Dallas Con.

Mr. Austin here. Went to the Wizard Universe Texas Convention in Arlington, TX last Saturday. Boy oh boy am I glad I showered.

Let's face it, I'm a geek. I like Star Wars and Lego and comic books and movies about all of the above, but I will admit that I in no way consider myself a Fan Boy. You might ask, what is a Fan Boy? You might also ask for your 5 minutes back when you're done reading this. You might also ask for pie. To me a Fan Boy is a human being that lives, eats and breaths comic books. They know all about each and every creator under the sun, they know all the story lines, they know all the histories, and they are intimately aware of all news and events surrounding comics.

Most genres of entertainment have similar creatures. Groupies, buffs, 'heads, stalkers. Call 'em what you like, for comics it's Fan Boys.

The main difference between myself and an average FB is I posses some measure of talent. Not to say all FBs are talentless hacks or wannabes trying to schmooze up to any and all creative geniuses they ever meet. Well, yeah that's exactly what I'm saying. I know most artists and writers have had inspiration and a reason that they got into the field, but I've never heard of a true Fan Boy making it big. Likewise I've heard of very few movie critics that have made feature films.

The other difference is that for the most part I just don't care who did what on which issue. I'd like to be entertained by the story, but that's about where my loyalties end. I could really care less some times about the guy inking for Green Arrow or the guy who took over on a back up story of Batman because the main guy had a heart attack or whatever. I mean, there are characters I like, and books I've read that I was blown away by the story telling or art or something, but my life just doesn't end there.

I guess it's different for everyone. I don't mean to harp on the guys and girls who read religiously and follow their favorites and go to cons to get signatures and sketches and press the flesh with the almighties. I wandered around Arlington Convention Center in a daze. I wasn't with anyone for most of the time, and I didn't have any plans other than get a few sketches from the people I knew from Penciljack, so my time was spent searching for books that were recently out, something I never found. I shook hands with and got a signature fromPeter Mayhew, very nice guy, and got a Ray #1 and #2 signed by Joe Q. That's about the extent of my Who's Who.

So you can imagine how humbling it is to come home to a wife who wants to be involved in what I do, but is finding it harder and harder to give two craps about it. All she wanted was to put a sink in, not listen to me go on and on about how Noah Hathaway was in a car wreck and couldn't be there to sign autographs. I don't consider myself a Fan Boy, but I'm sure others would.

So while I was considering leaving early because, frankly, I had no business being there, I realized that no matter how cool I thought I was, or how dorky I thought everyone else was, I paid my $20 to get in. I stood in line for an autograph of an E&C. I seriously considered buying loads and loads of books and figures and toys and shirts and art. So while I can actually claim some Fan Boy Holy Grails such as having sex or owning a home or getting paid pretty decently, I can't claim I'm 100% removed from that life, because like it or not, I made the choice to be part of it. I can either embrace it, or get rid of my pencils altogether.

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Completely unrelated note, Mrs. Austin and Little Mystery (as we'll refer to the latest offspring until such time as they reveal themselves to us) are doing fine. Yes there's the typical uncomfortableness and irritability that can only be found when a woman is with child, but Mrs. A is handling it with aplomb. She IS a little worried, though, I mean, look at the size of this kid. Keep in mind this is 3 months.



Kid is laying on it's back sucking it's thumb, probably. If they're anything like LMA, they're picking their nose. But you can see the head, body, toes, elbow. There's a video of the sonogram where you can see the heart beating very strong. Reason we're worried is right now the kid is more than twice LMA's size at the same time. I hope for Mrs. Austin's sake this isn't a large child.

That's all.

And for those requesting New York pictures, you can email us if you want to get copies, but trust me, it's nothing spectacular. Bunch of buildings at night, mostly out of focus. Probably better off watching Letterman or doing a stock photo search of Midtown.

Ciao.

Sorry folks, had to take down the movie. It was just chewing up space on my site.

Will update more later.

17mb - 2mins 10 sec on 10mb/s DSL

Little experiment, we've got a little movie of Lil Miss Austin. Hope it works. It's pretty funny. I don't have a lot of web space so these might get rotated in and out rather than stuck up here ad nauseum.

Anyway, nothing new.

You ever have one of those weeks when you feel like Charlie Brown? Basically a blockhead? You forget things, you lose things, you break things. Doesn't matter how hard you try to remember, take care or be nice, the universe has deemed it your turn to wear the big floopy shoes and pointy hat.

Look ma, no brain

Lately not only have I felt like Chuck right after Lucy pulls the ball away, but I've also felt like my parenting skills are lacking. Lil Miss Austin has become a No Factory as of late and is maxing my abilities to cope effectively without resorting to corporeal measures. I can feel my grip on any situation slipping with every sass or refusal or outburst. Anymore our interaction has become the game Taboo, where I can only say certain things in order for her to respond, but each time those things change. What worked yesterday, won't work today or tomorrow. A year ago I could get away with getting her to go to bed or eat her food by using the same tactics again and again. Now she's become a flu virus and adapted beyond my abilities to synthesize a new vaccine. She knows my tricks and has started to develop tricks of her own, forcing my brain to fire and fire and fire until the synapses are blown and I'm left a crazed idiot using the almighty Time Out trump card.

Which is NOT how I envisioned how this little life would be treated. It makes my heart hurt to always say negative things. No. Get off that. Don't jump. Put that down. Go back to bed. Be quiet. I wish I could slow down and not let her crying and shouting short out the fragile parenting circuits while I think of positive and creative ways to help her become a good, loving person AND keep the house peaceful and orderly.

I didn't expect to play this role, the role of the bad guy, the disciplinarian. Not that Mrs. Austin has it any better. LMA throws things and bites and punches with all she's worth sometimes, and I'm not always the target. Lately, though, I feel like I'm the one who's putting the foot down, while Mrs. Austin is the one providing the love and affection and understanding. Her near limitless patience taxes my imagination and only adds to my fear that I'm not a good parent.

Add that to all the normal adult crap one usually goes through during a slump of brain activity, and you start to feel you're a video camera away from having CPS knocking on your door. LMA is a great kid and her capacity to learn and grow is just amazing to me. Within two years time, she's had to cram in learning how to effectively make me look like a gibbering baboon and at the same time learn our language, customes and gross and fine motor skills. If I had a 2 year old's capacity for adapting, I'd be, at the very least, doing better at my job.

The Matrix Lost You

I hope the rest of you don't see this because, well, it wasn't great. I wasn't HORRIBLE, but it was a giant let down. There's no way it could have pleased everyone, and I've heard there have been folks silently praising this as a decent film, or at least entertaining.

***SPOILERS BELOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!***

First off, the Neo as the Christ figure was an ok story line, as long as it wasn't handed down with the subtlety of Sherman tank. The Wachowski brothers are very religious or at least very heavy into spiritualism and it shows in their movies, dripping and oozing with imagery and subtext. I was fairly certain at some point a chorus of Hosannas was about to break out above the industrial pounding.

I can complain all I want about this trilogy, but I'd be swimming in hypocrisy. I liked the story, I liked the fight scenes, I liked the special effects. The problem is, I liked them in Star Wars and Alien and Lord of the Rings. Yes Matrix changed the way films are made, but it was the first movie that did it. These latest installments are just so much after thought. There was an attempt to answer at least some of the questions, but to answer a question with a question is not an answer, it's a crappy way to get seven more dollars out of Drool Q. Public. Any movie that lists a character called Deus Ex Machina is just begging to upset people. I left no closer to understanding the story line then when I walked in.

That is however until I was able to process the film a bit, let it stew around in my head for a little while as bits of all 3 movies fell into place. I played a little of the Spaz-tacular Enter The Matrix game, hoping to glean a little more of the continuity, but it was SO bad I didn't play past the first few levels. Even most of the Animatrix was weird and goofy enough not to be bothered with. This leads me to think that the first film was SO cool and such a good idea, but it could have stood ALONE, by itself, for all time. There didn't need to be a sequel, did there? Was there a need to have it all wrapped up? They explained it to us. War between man and machine, the Matrix is a program, Neo's there to get rid of it. Leaving us with him destroying Agent Smith was good enough for me, good way to end it. But no, now we have to live through Zion Dance Party, The Death of Trinity, 150 Tons of Metal and Shell Casings, Blind Neo, and some of the worst writing, acting and directing I've seen outside of high school. A friend commented that Matrix: Revolutions was like watching Blade Runner, Superman and Dallas all rolled into one meaningless story and given to a couple of fan boys with an unlimited budget.

Now I don't want to totally down this movie, there were high points. Ian Bliss was great as Bane, Jada Pinkett Smith I could watch in anything, there's something stoic, sexy and urban about her. She had some crap lines to deliver. I liked seeing all the horror of the machine's final invasion of Zion and seeing the mountain defense around the machine city as Neo and Trinity approached. Sati and her family were good and their scenes were pretty well done, if not long. That was the main problem I think, is that most if not all the scenes in the movie went on WAY too long. Maybe the movie was ghost directed by Lorne Green and he's trying to make an SNL move towards totally blowing a good concept by beating his audience over the head with more words and lines than we really need. Does Trinity have to babble so much when she's dying? She sounded like 5 year old getting home from her first day of school and having so much to tell you just tune it out after a while. There were actually giggles in the theater while she was doing her Hamlet audition.

They handled Gloria Foster's death as well as could be expected. Some thrown in story about them needing to sell her "shell" so the last exile could be freed, but then she got another shell. It seemed over looked as it was a big part of the story in the end, but something that may not have needed telling had she not died.

A couple more high points. One, the preview for Troy starring Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom and Eric Bana. The preview looked SO cool, if you can find it, watch it. It was stellar.

The other high point, for the first time in my life I was first in line for a movie. I got there 2 hours ahead of time, which for Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or Spidey or X-Men it would have been too late by then. So with a bafflement I can only assume was the result of years of inhaling faux butter fumes, the ticket attendant said they weren't making a line yet. 30 mins later when I asked again he said go ahead and I took my place, the only place, at the head of what was to be a fairly long line. What was funny about this, was the ticket guy and I spoke at least 3, 4 maybe 5 times. On the last time we talked, I had gone outside to find some friends and was coming back in, at this point he ripped my ticket and told me where the line was forming. I was sitting 10 feet from him for 60 minutes and talked to him repeatedly about where the line was.

I'd love to go off on this longer, but arguing how much of a dork the guy was as I'm relishing my being first in line for a movie is a little two faced. Let's just say it was my first, and it was a good feeling as I walked into the theater slowly, knowing that my pace dictated the pace of all behind me and I was in fact able to pick, out of all the seats, which was to be mine.

It was a fine day. Then the movie started.

All Hallow's Eve

Remember Halloween? Remember being a kid and the unbridled thrill you could feel creeping into your bones as you applied copious amounts of make up and donned yarn wigs and thing colorful material. Remember putting up with the fact that you couldn't breath through the mask because you knew the mask made you look cool? Remember the sugar starved insanity that preceded dumping a bag of candy onto the floor, sifting it through the haul like a gold-digger looking for flakes, weeding out the good candy from the crap trinkets?

Yeah me too.

I also remember carving pumpkins and watching Peanuts on CBS and football games and raking leaves and the light going out early and the weather being on the cusp of winter, nipping at your heels as your tennis shoes, which didn't match your costume, mounted assault after spirit of the dusk assault on lighted porches and driveways. It's a magical time of year for me, one of which I never forget and always look forward to, but one that I never plan for until about 3 days before the event. There's no commercialism in it for me, there's only the deepening of the sky and the chill on the air and the smell of apples and cinnamon and burning pumpkin guts. What this translates to is an almost obsessive desire to see Lil Miss Austin dressed up in something cute. Yeah, I'd like her to have the most creative costume, or the most endearing, but when she sees the costume at the store and goes into toddler bliss, who am I to argue?

Yeah I think it's a bit different now then when I was a kid. I had a mom that was pretty skilled in the area of, how shall I say, Seemsteric Creation. I had a clown outfit as a standby for a good couple years just in case my Tron costume didn't pan out. And while I constantly tell people about my infamous Mystic costume from the Dark Crystal as they politely go inside their own heads and scream at me that they've heard it before, I haven't considered creating a costume for LMA. There was talk of the three of us dressing up as Lego pieces, then the Ragedy's (Anne, Andy and, hmm, is there a third?) but in the end, $20 at Target did in a pinch. Next year. Right? Next year she'll be a beautiful butterfly with home made wings and teased up hair and sparkly make up. Next year she'll be Kyra the Gelfing and I'll reprise the Mystic role. Next year Mrs. Austin and I will dig out our M&M outfits and make a Mini M&M outfit for her. Next year. Promise.




ooOOooo, the ghost is so scary!!




Don't get near me clown, I'm mischievous as all get out and I WILL take your bubbles.




A bumblebee on the edge! Look at that barely contained excitement. Anymore sugar and she'll explode.




Mrs. Austin let's me play with knives. Lil Miss Austin was there to supervise.




"That's right honey, get the whole arm in there. It's not Halloween until you're covered in orange slime."




Not so ghoulish after all, well done kiddo.


I keep saying, Halloween, when in fact only 1/3 of our household celebrates Halloween. That minority is I. The women of the house celebrate Samhain, the Last Harvest, the darkening of the days before the god is reborn. It's yet another holiday that all good Christians celebrate that has its roots firmly founded in more ancient beliefs. It's ironic; Samhain is all about reflection and recognizing that the end of the light is coming, but with a strong belief that the light will come again. It's in no way evil or satanic or even spooky. The fact that Christianity has both adopted this as All Hallows Eve and bastardized it's meaning is quite extraordinary. It's like ignoring a family member for most of their life, then towards the end creating an imaginary friend in their likeness that you tell people you hate. It makes no sense. Ah well, with Resurrections being portrayed as Chocolate Eggs, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

At any rate, regardless of what you call it, it still seems ok to go out and basically beg for candy from strangers, which I find mind blowing. As a kid you don't catch the subtle hypocrisy of "Don't take candy from strangers, except for this one day and you have to ask them for it while dressed up all funny." I haven't worked out if Trick or Treating is cool on Samhain, but I will say this, I had to do a lot more Tricks when I was a kid. Between having to tell jokes or sing songs, it's a wonder I got any flippin candy at the end of the night. I think next year I'm also going to put a sign up, or carve it into a pumpkin on the porch. "No costume, no candy. And some face paint doesn't a costume make." There's no effort there, grab a pillowcase and bum rush all the little kids in costume at a doorway, not even saying Trick or Treat. They just hold their bags out like if I don't give them candy they're gonna tell on me. Man, kids today. (Yeah screw you I'm old.)

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Random Pictures





Fresh off her role as Ms. Nora Dinsmoor, the starlet takes time for a photo op.




Uhhhh...I hope I can retrieve all Daddy's files before he gets back.

Big Ass Apple

Holy crap I'm in New York. And not just New York, Midtown Manhattan, Times Square baby! My company decided they needed more people up in NY for some testing so they were very kind in appropriating the funds to fly and house me in the city that never sleeps.

I'M IN NEW YORK, MAN!

For those that have never been, let me start off by saying, you just have no idea. It's so big and so loud and so alive. I don't care where you're from, you will just overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. (With apologies for those random readers from Tokyo, maybe).

Coming from Texas, big means spread out over several, sometimes, dozens of miles. Yeah there's 4 million people in Houston, but Houston has the same area as Rhode Island. (Don't check on that, I'm pretty sure it's poetic license.) Meanwhile you have twice, three times that number living or working in an area 5 miles wide and 15 miles long. Just unimaginable. There's no grass, no dirt, no trees. It's just concrete and steel and people. Ok, well you get the idea, it's big. Moving on.

I haven't been able to do a whole lot, my job's kept me pretty busy, but in just wondering around you see things that for someone's whole life, sometimes, you only see in movies or TV. Studio 1A, Radio City Music Hall, Time Life Building, Hello Deli, the CBS Studios, the Ed Sullivan Theater, Rockefeller Plaza. This is all within 10 blocks. I haven't even been to the ESB or Ground Zero/Freedom Tower site, or up to Central Park, or the Met, or Yankee Stadium, or the Garden, or the Statue of Liberty, or the, or the...

I'm here 4 days, two of which are spent traveling, so to try to cram everything in would be foolish, so what do I do instead? That's right, try to fit in. I don't have the time to catch a train to see the Museums up on the West Side or down to Battery Park. You'd need a two week vacation just to see the famous things in Midtown. Easier for me to blend, do my job, appreciate that I'm here, geek out internally, and go home to my family. I'll be back.

So to fit in you can't take pictures, you have to have an umbrella and you have to walk very fast. No one stands here, and if they do they are a doorman, a moving guy or mentally unstable and directionless. My friend I met for drinks said she found me because I was the only one standing still. Pretty sad. There are also no traffic rules that apply in the known universe. Lanes are not strict, they're for decoration. Drivers have a third arm that lingers on their horn, but not in a road rage type way, more like a car saying, "Pardon me" or "Come on that's yellow." Your head has to be on a swivel here, and you always have to be moving. If you stop, you have to pull over (on the sidewalk) and find a doorway. If you stop in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoe, well then you die. It's that simple.

Oh, and everything here is priced like the island consists of Maharajas and Texan Oil Tycoons. Pack of smokes? 8 bucks. Heineken? $5. #4 breakfast at McDs? 6 bucks. The umbrella I bought was less than a pack of cigarettes. And people don't MAKE more here, and with living here the way it is, they eat out more too. So how do they do it? I'm thinking lots of crack and or Hawaiian goof balls. I know Austin isn't that pricey and I know people are making ends meet, but only just. How one could survive with the same pay, but higher rent, higher food prices and constant use of public transportation just boggles the mind.

Anyway, cutting this short because I'll write more when I get back, and include pictures.

Ciao.

Life In Austin: Episode II

For those who didn't get blanketed with emails, Mrs. Austin and I are expecting our 2nd child. We found out a couple days ago, Mrs. Austin is 8 1/2 weeks along. The due date predicted is June 5th of next year.



JUNE 5th! That's like (Nov, Dec, Jan...) not very long from now!

I don't know what the protocol is for telling people, whether you have to wait 2 months or 5 months or just introduce the kid at parties, but we decided that the shock we were in was really prohibiting us from keeping a secret any better than the White House.

And it's Shock and Awe, I tells ya. Nothing like going into the Doc to check on a cold and he tells you you're pregnant. It's like saying "Pinch me, I'm dreaming" only to have 5 people punch you in the gut. We were absolutely sideswiped with this news, it coming on the heels of a LONG summer discussion on how having LMA around was good enough for us for a little while longer. We had thought of having more kids, at most one more, so LMA could have a sibling, but our current life was really getting good. We were taking small vacations and going back to school and following dreams, all the while still being able to pay the bills. LMA was 90% potty trained, and becoming quite self sufficient. It was pretty groovy.

Now before you send me hate mail about not loving #2, that's not what I'm saying at all. No one plans on getting pregnant the way you plan to see a movie. It can take months, years, and even then you question whether you can handle it or not. Overwhelmed would be a better word, but overwhelmed with caveats.

Second time around we don't have to worry about labor pains and if it's time to go. We'll know how to deal with diapers, teething, sleeping patterns, how to feed, how to nurse, how to do all things Baby. LMA was a learning experience, and I'm sure was a bit coddled and overly protected. #2 will be less so, just by nature. I'm pretty sure we won't be dangling them out a balcony window in front of the paparazzi, but we'll be a little more lax in our, how shall I say, neurotica protectiva.

Plus, the 2nd will have the benefit of having a play partner. LMA is going to be a great big sister. She's fun, sweet, happy. She always wants to help and wants to play. I'm sure there will be normal regression for her and (write this date down) I vow to not over look her needs or place either child's needs above the other. LMA is going to need extra attention, almost forced, because most of our focus is going to be on keeping #2 from rolling off the bed, sleeping on their face, feeding, etc.

It's going to be so much fun, though. Mrs. Austin is a great mommy and she's said I've been a good dad, so who's to say this is going to be anything but a wonderful romp through family life. She'll have cousins, grandparents, probably great grandparents. I think it will be really groovy.

Mrs. Austin will still be going to school, I'll still be drawing, we won't lose who we are, just be making more people that look like us.

LMA and Mrs. A taming the wild bayou critter.


It's been a few days hasn't it? I'm sure you've got a lot done in that time. 10 days, that's enough time to wait for two handguns in the US.

So what else. Red Sox forced a game 6, Cubbies got knocked out in game 7. Avs lost to St. Louis but beat Chicago. Tonight they play the Wild, vengence shall be theirs. And it shall be good. It shall run down the mountain and smite its enemies like a crazed avalanche. UT got SERVED by OU. Wasn't even a game. I think St. Mary's School of the Deaf and Blind would have done better.

I'd like to mention that I love my wife. She's been great lately and just loving school.

LMA is getting more and more lippy and self aware as the days go on. Picking her up from school each day is like going to the airport with a car service sign, you never really know who you'll get, it's new and exciting. Well, it's new, exciting depends on whether or not I have snacks with me. If I don't, it's just new and loud.

Speaking of Loud, the family went to Conroe this weekend to partake in a two fold celebration of Texas size magnitude. First off was the birthday celebration of, count 'em, 4 of Mrs. Austin's family. Two kids, two adults. I can't describe to you with words the din that is associated with so many children in one room. Since I've moved here, 4 children have been born. When they all get together it's like those movies about family get togethers on Christmas or Thanksgiving where there is noise and laughter and wrapping paper flying and shouting and crying and running. No punch line there, it's exactly like that. I came from a family that was a little more somber and relaxed, although I didn't know it at the time. So to be thrust into what I can only call vainly controlled chaos takes a lot of deep breathing and frequent smoke breaks. What's amazing is everyone behaves, everyone is generally happy and if there are problems, they aren't brought up in front of everyone. It's kinda groovy.

With the majority of kids staying back at the homefront, a group of us head out to the Conroe Catfish Festival. If you've ever been to a street festival you know what this is; arts and crafts, food on a stick, beer bought by coupon (ah the American dream) and music. We again were able to see our favorite live band Los Lonely Boys and a few of us got to ride a mechanical bull.

You heard me.

No this isn't Urban/Rhinestone/Midnight Cowboy or whatever movie that was in. There was no Travolta, no dimly lit bar and very few cowboy boots. (There is a movie clip of us on the faux beast, but gimme a while to figure out the web stuff for that.) Of the three of us that rode, it was hard to tell who was the better. No one stayed on for more that 3-4 seconds, and a couple of us had problems getting on, but no problem falling off. LMA got to ride for a second or two, the operator was very nice and didn't try to throw her.

I'm sure my Colorado parents are so proud of me.

It's actually harder than it looks, most of the "holding on" as it were, is done with your legs clamped down on the bull leaving your groin muscles to ache for some time. Unless your Mrs. Austin's brother, in which case only your pride is hurt.

Seguay.

I know I'm getting older. Everyone is. But I finally felt a bit OLD today. I was talking with Mrs. Austin's brother on a smoke break and we both decided that music videos are for kids. Think about it, do you watch music videos? You do? How old are you? I haven't watched MTV since they stopped playing videos and I haven't watched VH1 since I realized there was better TV and other things to do. I can imagine, with great detail and richness of color, a world without music videos. Musicians are in music because they are musicians. If they are worried about their looks, chances are they aren't very good musicians and I don't listen to them. Anyone think Janice Joplin was hottie? How about John Popper? Lyle Lovett? Yeah Britteny Spears is every 18-48 year old male's guilty fantasy, but is she a good singer? Maybe. Can she play an instrument? Don't know, never seen her. Why then do I care to watch her music videos?

The industry as a whole baffels me. Somewhere, sometime in the late 70's, someone decided that just hearing music wasn't enough. They had to see it. So after the entertainment venue failure of laser shows was exhausted, they turned to broadcasting short bits of drama or assembled concert footage along with the song or performance.

Anyone ask for this? Anyone say, "You know, I like the Cars, but what would make my enjoyment jump that last bit would be to see Rick Ocasek as a fly on a bar of soap." I didn't think so.

So this begs the question, or maybe it doesn't, depending on how much free time you have. If this trend is so popular as to require its own award show, what does that say about others in the performance art industry? Does anyone want to see how well a comedian can weld or assemble a killing machine from mere junk? How many ballet dancers are also excellent chefs, I think they should have an entire station devoted to finding out.

Yes, yes. It's a ramble. It's what happens when the days of writing test scripts at work start to wear thin the small membrane seperating your brain from the rest of you that gives a crap.

Like carnies, but with better weapons.

The Austin family's gone medieval! That's right, it's that time of year again. The Texas Renaissance Festival opened this past weekend and we were again part of the madness in all its turkey-legged, period costumed glory. Both Mrs. Austin and I worked the fair in the past, her in Texas, myself in Colorado. We both have fond memories of the fair, how it changed our lives and how it changed our viewpoint on life.

This, however, was the first time I'd been camping at the fair. When I worked the Larkspur, CO fair, the partner I had wasn't about to camp and get all dirtied up, so we drove there and back each day. Mrs. Austin had camped in "Toon Town", as the employee camping area is commonly known, but never in the patrons area. So we were to meet another family there and camp together on Friday, then hit the fair the next day. We arrive around 9pm on Friday and set up camp with 2000 of our closest friends, most drunk, probably high, and all Rennies. Wow. I wouldn't say it was Sodom and Gomorra, but I didn't go near the Fire Pit. We proceeded to set up our little world with tents and lanterns and chairs and alcohol, put the kids to bed, drank and then tried to sleep.

We were awaken twice all night. Once by the retired dude who decided it was cool to play Shania Twaine at 3 am as loud as possible until Mrs. Austin shouted at him, "For the love of God, turn that shit off!" Then again around 5-6am by a group of drunkards who'd split up looking for their camp site and decided to stay abreast of each other's progress by shouting their locations to each other in poetic, yet still annoying, fashion. When the train rolled past around 6:30, we knew it was time to wake up to the dewy chill of Plantersville and get ready.

So, a camp like breakfast and some mild morning traditions later, we made our way to the front gate. We tried to hang with the other family for a time, but keeping a group of 4 adults and 3 kids together in what ended up being a 28,000 person fair was just too much. How we found them twice again during the day was an exercise in celestial odds. After about 4 uneventful hours, we decided we'd had enough. It wasn't that we had a bad time, just that we didn't have a time at all. The camping was fun, but the actual festivities saw us aimlessly walking around, not wanting to see any shows, not wanting to shop or eat much. LMA was perfectly behaved for the most part. I think in this instance, the lack of sleep really wore on us.

So we did what most tired people do, head the exact opposite way from home. We made a pit stop in Conroe to drop off an item for Mrs. Austin's aunt, had lunch, and got a hotel. Man I love hotels after a day of walking around in dirt and sweat. It was the last room in the place, thanks to the overpowering numbers of rennies and fans. We bought some ice cream, Doritos, cokes and milk and just vegged for a few hours before getting what amounted to 10 hours of sleeping. Fully rested, the next day was killed by trying to decide on how best to further exhaust ourselves. There was talk of Galveston, the Zoo, the Butterfly place or just going home. We hit the Outlet Mall north of town, another shop and lunch, then back home.

I will say this. I love camping. We went a lot when I was a kid, and I am very nostalgic toward the smell of camp fires, the taste of Dinty Moore stew, and the chill of crack of dawn breakfasts. Now as an adult, I can also enjoy the warm stupor of liquor to boot. There's something peaceful about entering an environment, making it your own, then leaving it exactly as you found it the next day. I hope we do more.

I also hope I can fill out my costume a little more. For some reason I chose a Scottish get up, although I don't think there's much Scot in my family history. I think I did it because I knew I'd get a sword to go with it and man aren't lowland broadswords just the coolest?

Oh yeah, some more cutie pics.

Notes from the Peanut Gallery

Mrs. Austin here. I just wanted to take a moment to let you all know what horrible parents we are. Lil Miss Austin has, on various repetitive occasion, been known to poop in her "night time panties" in bed. These are pull ups so there's no real harm done other than we have to change her and she still isn't asleep at 10:30 at night. We've been very clear with her that you don't poop in your night time panties. She knows that she is supposed to poop in the "big potty". I think maybe we were a little too clear on this.

Last night she walked into the living room (west wing interrupts) with a handful of poo. Yes, you hear me. A hand FULL of poo. But she didn't poop in her panties. That's right folks. She put her hands in her pants, pooped, and then brought it to us.

"See, Mommy-Daddy? I didn't poop in my night time panties!"

God.

Highs and lows, man. Highs and lows. Lil Miss Austin is to the point where you can almost understand her, even if you don't live with her. Words like "dangerous" are starting to be clear now. She's also decided to start using inclusives like "we" and "us." It's something of a gradual step, because while I still think it's parrot like repetativeness that leads her to these vocal improvements slash cognitive leaps slash quasi adult communication skills, it's starting to become more and more her own thoughts and actions rather than just repeating what she's heard. I came to a realization recently that she's already reading letters, and soon she'll be putting words and sounds together, not even realizing what a huge step that is. She'll be reading cat, not exactly knowing that she's reading a word that she's already known for years. It almost seems backwards to the adult mind, doesn't it? I'm going talk about something I don't know anything about, and then go learn all about it. Well, I guess if you work in marketing that's how it's run.

So we think it's a big deal. She now wants to do things together, or follow us, or "we can do it". It's no longer about her. The I has been replaced with TEAM. It makes it seem like she's finally figuring out that even though she's a left handed shot, she's still better off on right wing; now part of the family, inclusive.

I'm guessing now that because she's been having all these great mental accomplishments, her brain is working overtime. Which would explain why she's NOT SLEEPING! Holy Pot of Coffee Batman, this kid hates going to bed and hates getting up. While she's getting some verbal skills, she still has a long way to go for temporal reasoning. "If you go to bed when we tell you, you won't be crabby the next morning." Yeah, good luck with that until she's 28 and can truly appreciate a good nap. She doesn't sleep at school or at home. She only naps on long car rides and the last couple weeks has been like a horror movie each morning. She cries herself to sleep and cries as soon as her eyes open. It makes for fun car rides to school.

I can't really fault her, I've got shoes that are older than her, so it's not like she's got any idea what's going on. But man I feel bad about her not getting sleep. She has to be at school at 7:30 so I can get to work on time, and then she's there till 5:30 so I can stay at work till 5. Then it's a flury of activity in the evening right before she's shoveled into bed, story, bath, dinner or not. Ugh, poor kid. I'm seriously hoping my company adopts a more European work week so I can knock down some of my hours. Of course, we could always wait for Mrs. Austin to gain financial independence allowing me to quit, draw at home and have LMA in school only partial days until she's 5 or so.

Of course, if it turns out she's a genius, she can stay up as long as she wants. Right?

Denver Trip

The Austin Family goes to Colorado





Wow. I'd like to retract my bitching and whinning about short trips, and that's all I'll say about that.

We packed a lot of stuff into our little 4 day trip to Colorado. What was at first just a weekend packed around an Eddie Izzard concert on Monday turned into a pretty packed couple of days, capped off by a hysterical performance by our favorite Executive Transvestite.

To start, we flew into Denver and headed straight for the Air Force academy to see the Falcons take on the Cowboys of Wyoming. In the past, I was pretty sure that Wyoming would have kicked our butts, (I say "our" because Air Force is the home team) but it turns out AF is pretty good this year. They won, but not terribly convincingly. If you don't know about Falcon football, for the past, I don't know, 20 years, the head coach, Fischer Deberry has had about 5 plays in his playbook and he runs them all in succession. They're all Option plays. Q-B runs, Q-B pitches out, Q-B hands off to running back, or drops back and throws to the only receiver. You'd think with a name like Air Force, they'd pass more. Anyway. We also found out that my dad is now the 3rd highest "ranking" civilian to hold season tickets. Way back in the late 60's, AF built a new stadium and my grandpa got tickets in the family section. These tickets were passed on to my dad and I'm sure one day to either me or my brother. I'm hoping they make a Rollman plaque somewhere on section M13 to commemorate the dynasty of airchair quarterbacks.

So a good time was had by all. I haven't been to a Falcons game in years, and it was such a treat because this represented a piece of my childhood. The memories of fly-bys and parachuters and the cadets marching onto the field and peanuts and cocoa and frigid cold days and sunburning hot days, they all came back to me and it felt like a home away from home. I'm glad I got Mrs. Austin to see the Drum and Bugle Corp, I'm glad Lil Miss Austin got to see the Bird and the "only performing mascot in the NCAA" (which is actually a peregrine falcon, not the guy dressed up, though he does do some fun stuff.) Afterwards we headed back to Casa Rollman and grilled up some burgers and chatted with everyone in what amounted to a family reunion. LMA got to see her great-grandparents, who are pretty great, as well as most of the great aunts and uncles, so it was pretty keen.

That was just Saturday.

Sunday we headed south to Colorado Springs to see my mom and step dad. We grabbed some coffee and headed to Canyon City and the Royal Gorge. The Royal Gorge is an 1100 foot crevace carved out by the Arkansas River. I don't know the distinction between gorge and canyon, but I guess the geologists among you will whisper this tidbit into your needy little ears. The point is, there's a bridge that goes over this chasm and it's pretty spectacular. Along with the shops and kiddie stuff, there's a gondola/tram that goes to each side, an incline railway that goes to the bottom and a Skycoaster that flings out over the abyss. We did all the attractions, and took a lot of pictures.

Mr. and Mrs. Austin at the Water Clock.


Mr. and Lil Miss Austin petting some (devil) goats. (I hate goats.)


Dad and Daughter riding the tram. (Scarier to me than the skycoaster, for real.)


Mrs. Austin was taking pictures of this while simultaneously on the phone checking how much life insurance money she could get.

So we spent a goodly amount of time trapsing around the Gorge and its Bridge and headed back. The next day was a pleasant lunch with the other great grandma, great aunt, grandma, Mrs. A, LMA and myself, then a nap, then off to downtown to hang out and see Eddie. We had some plans on going to a candy factory tour, or a movie, or Elitches, but by the time we actually got downtown we had just enough time to do nothing in particular. So we walked down to the Capital building, saw a drug deal, felt kind of threatened and out of place, ate some Subway and did some window shopping. 16th Street in Denver has changed a lot since I was there so it was fun to see what has changed, and what hasn't. Over all it was NOT fun to get lost while driving. Between having a 6 year gap in memory and all the construction going on, my normally keen geo and topographic mind was reduced to a stuttering nimwit full of holes and "I think this is it."

>	But we did make the show, and it was awesome. I remember seeing Seinfeld in Austin and not laughing this hard. Izzard is the funniest comedian today I think. Nods to Mitch Hedberg and Thomas Rhodes, but for my money, give me a British Transvestite talking about Neanderthals. Top notch.

So we made it home without incident. It was a good trip and everyone behaved, for the most part.

Editorial Retraction

Well, it happened. I knew some day I'd upset someone with what I write here. It ideally was a place to document Little Miss Austin's journey through her childhood. We don't do a lot of home movies, we take a crapload of pictures though. So I thought it'd be a good place to write stuff down.

The problem is, folks, that after about 2 years old, the leaps and bounds just aren't as common. Parents will back me up on this. Children are amazing creatures. Their ability to learn and adapt and grow is nothing short of miraculous. But lately, and I'm not FAULTING anyone here, but lately the milestones just aren't happening every four hours and it leaves a journal to wallow in blankness for days upon days. "Oh the idle brain is the Devil's playground, trouble! Folks right here in River City. Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!"

Don't know where that came from.

The point is, lately I've had to come up with filler, and I don't have much to talk about other than what's rattling around in my excuse for a brain. I could bore you people with talk of what I'm doing with my drawing or what I plan on doing with some comic book scripts or what happened on West Wing, but that would be pretty dule, wouldn't it? Isn't it then more interesting to delve into the depths of what really drives a person? Understand their motivations? Gleen a little insight into what makes them tick, what makes them get up each day?

No? You say you just want more pictures of LMA doing cute things?

Yeah I do too.

Well, it's not totally current, but it'll have to do.

Jibba Jabba

So we're planning a trip to Denver to see our favorite comedian Eddie Izzard. Actually, I don't know for sure if Mrs. Austin has a favorite comedian, but it's probably Eddie, maybe Ellen. Entertainment-wise, I'm really only sure she likes Sex in the City and West Wing, Willie Nelson and Bob Schneider. Everything outside of that is a guess or an anthropomorphic assumption that she likes what I like, which is pretty impossible to believe because what I like is pretty much crap. [ed. -True. He likes crap. Total crap. He's so not kidding. He tried to let LMA watch a violent anime movie the other day and I almost had to set up the therapy session right then.]

So yeah, we're going to Colorful Colorado and honestly I really wish we weren't. Let me explain before you get your mouse cord completely around your neck. I wish Eddie was coming to Austin, it would just make life easier. We've got just enough time off and just enough funds to make this mad dash 1200 miles north, cram in as much family face time, sight seeing and event doing as we can before whisking back to Austin in time for school. I guess it's a vacation in the strictest sense; we're leaving our home, spending money, taking time off work, going somewhere else. But it doesn't FEEL like a vacation. [ed.- its a vacation. shut up. i'm totally excited about it and all he can do is whine that there aren't going to be free drinks w/ umbrellas and girls in bikinis.] I have this overactive imagination that dictates vacation as a Corona commercial. No stress, sand, surf and alcohol that flows freely while steel drums drip their lovely, haunting melodies in the background. As it is now, here's what I'm thinking off. Early flight, is the airline going to give us crap because LMA is over 2, where are we spending the night, will we have enough money, are both my mom and dad going to be equally appeased by our presence, will either need more time, will we need more time? [ed. Notice how he hasn't mentioned that we are going up there for our anniversary? Anyone want to lay odds that he forgets this important date too?]

The last few months have been just choked with these weekend spurts. Quick drive to the beach, quick drive to the swimming hole, quick drive to Sea World. I think it all started with our Boston trip. Suddenly we're Power Vacationers. There's no lounging around and relaxing, it's all BAM BAM BAM, get your check list marked off and get home. Fly to Chicago, cram in a convention, don't even get out of the hotel for 3 days. Fly to Denver, see mom day one, dad day two, friends day three, go home. [ed. he whines a lot doesn't he? I wonder how many people he is going to piss off with this entry. I wonder if I'm pissing him off by editing this and calling him a whiney-baby. He doesn't mention that half the "power vacations" were his idea. Additionally, I've been trying for a year to get him on a cruise ship but to no avail.]

I'm fondly looking back now on our trip to the Bahamas that was as lazy, food fed, liquored up and sand in the crannies as any trip I've ever taken. There was no rush, no schedule, no need to be anywhere at any time. No juggling over which family members to see when. It was my idea of a vacation. [ed. -again, cruise ship.] Not to down play the fun we've had on our outings within driving distance, or the last minute jaunts. They've produced some seriously memorable photos and keepsakes and, well, memories. It's something fun to do with LMA, and especially being in a large state, there's so much to do and we'll probably never do it all. I just wish I could stretch it out more, make it 10 days instead of 3, a full week instead of 4 hours. Am I being greedy? Probably. And probably a bit slacker...ish..y.

Besides, I don't have much to write lately and not a lot of time to organize pictures. I can't wait to have my own web server so I can post hundreds and hundreds of pictures and film clips and art and what not, depicting our great Texas travels. I have just enough time lately to write this. [ed. - don't thing I didn't notice the blatant attempt here for me to give in to the concept of buying a new computer just so he can post pictures for this website. As if that would lead to more less-whiney entries about the lack of sand in his shorts. Yeah, and I've got a bridge for sale.....]

I've been haggled!

If you're a new parent, take heart. It's only 2 years and some months until you don't have to deal with diapers anymore. I can't tell you the relief we're now feeling that LMA is about 90% potty-trained. She still wears "night panties" to bed (ie pull-ups) but during the day it's just regular underwear and the occassional prancing about with no drawers on, or what I like to call "The Uncle Chipper." It's a true blessing now that no money is spent on disposable clothing anymore. Now we're just working on the regular clothing that we have to buy every 2 months.

Which brings me to a conundrum Mrs. Austin and I have run into. LMA doesn't eat. I mean, she's capable of it, and we see her do it and somewhere in the forgotten worlds of possibility she's finished an entire meal, but for the most part she just drinks milk and water. Now I don't want to panic, I've heard other parents say that toddlers are picky eaters, but LMA is already small as it is. She's still wearing clothing with tags that say 12 mos! I'm a little worried, a little scared. I'm sure nothing is actually wrong with her, but you can never tell right? So every night becomes another bribing routine. "You eat one more beet and you can watch the Muppets." "One more bite of tofu and we'll go play outside." I don't like the fact that I have to bribe my child to get her to do something I think is right or needed. And with that statement, there are scores of grandparents just laughing their asses off. Now that I think about it, a story of me not wanting to eat pot roast comes to mind. I would stuff my face full of meat just to get it off my plate, but I wouldn't actually eat it. So there I sat with chipmunk cheeks just waiting to be excused so I could go spit it all out. Man I didn't like pot roast. Now I'm trying desperately to get this little one to eat her veggies, just praying I don't see pull a Dizzy Gillespe with some broccolli.

Pictures to follow on this. Our latest family outting was in sunny, sandy, surfside Corpus Christi. We decided 10 mins after leaving our house that we were going there. (Planning is not our strong suit, stay tuned from the Eddie Izzard in Denver post.) Both of us are sick with head/chest colds, so what better way to spend a weekend then driving someplace unfamiliar.

Truth be told it was fun. The sudden burst vacations and road trips tend to yield the most enjoyment for us. I'm sure mainly because there's no expectation, no stress from planning and no reason to fight over stuff that may or may not happen. We drove down 35 to San Antonio, stopped a couple times to potty and once in Buda to wait in apparently the only Subway in Texas for 20 mins while Saturday Business Atire Lady decides to haggle over her 27 turkey light sandwiches. We arrive in CC around 4 and just hit the beach running. I'm reminded of another story of me and my younger brother in Florida, seeing the ocean for the first time. Running like gang busters, we pitch into the oncoming surf to be greeting by a mouthful of salt water. Not what I, nor LMA was expecting. Oh the water was warm and delightful. LMA spent her afternoon chasing seaguls, running into then away from the surf and throwing as much sand back into the water as possible. Her 2 year old brain must have thought the water was broken because it was dropping all this dirt along the beach, all she was doing was helping it get it all back.

High point was burying daddy in the sand. We'd buried LMA earlier and that was cute, she giggled. While I was being covered in sand, my upper body already succumbed to the weight of it, I shout that my nose itched, like it always does when you suddenly can't move your hands. Well, Mrs. Austin just laughs and says I'll have to tough it out. Not Lil Miss Austin, she wants to help. Crunch! Face full of sand. Sand in tear ducts, nostrils, molars, ears. I'm sure it didn't occur to her that the hand she wanted to help daddy scratch his nose with was full of sand. A for effort, that's for sure. Lil demon.

Rest of they day was cool. Say a big navy type ship (USS Lexington) from afar, have to wait to go back with my dad cuz he loves that stuff. Ate at Joe's Crab Shack, which I thought was a bit cliche, but we were hungry and not picky and it was my idea so shut up.

I dig my family. I'm glad that even though we have a kid, some times we can pick up and just run off someplace. As much as I love, and could really use a 2 week vacation in Greece, these little weekend adventures are pretty cool.

As soon as I figure out the web site situation, there will be pictures. Oh yes, there will be. Don't try and stop me. I'm a blogger on the edge!!

Lil Miss Austin gets a lot of comparisons to the Olsen twins. Not so much lately but from about 18 months to 25-26 months old, we got a lot of people approaching us with this little tidbit. I could see it for a while; big eyes, sandy blonde hair, puffy cheeks. She was, and still is, a little sprite. Plus being so precocious it's hard to not see a little bit of star power behind her cherub face.

Knowing she was a camera hog (says "cheese" when a camera is in the room) we did actually send a picture to the Gap when they had a "talent" search, realize as we did so it went against the beliefs that we held about not turning our child into a little starlet, the ramifications of such a life not one we'd wish on anyone. But we were swept up in the glow that is our little girl and probably a desire to let the world know just how adorable she is. Parental bias aside, she's just damn cute.

With this in mind, I'd like to set the record straight on the cute factor.



My money is on the girl dialing her agent asking for more press and less nap time.

Just a quick word, polariscomics.com is down and that's actually the host that stores all the photos for this page, so you fine viewers are going to be pictureless for a few days till it's sorted out.

Not much to report otherwise. Couple days of rain, working on the house more, Mrs. Austin started school and then proceeded to get very sick, but she's ok now. Rowan's moved up to the older kids class, not the oldest but one up from where she was. Very exciting.

I had a bunch of pics to show you but it'll have to wait, without them talking about them really doesn't make much sense.

Meow

Meow!

Austin wouldn't be the same without adopting a couple of stray cats.

back to it

Patio Roof is not our friend from Ireland

Now that you've all had a chance to read and probably hear about certain marital issues, I'm going to move back to some regular stuff. Exciting to us, maybe not to others, but just the same it gets its place here.

First off, a quick recap of Chicago for those that don't have our phone number and who we've talked to since last week. Chicago was really great. I can't come up with any other metaphors than that, although I'll do my best to keep you readers entertained. (It was good. That's great dude, click back to Google.) It started out a little odd, the flight to Rosemont was pushed back an hour while we sat on the plane and waited for our flight crew that was delayed in LA. But I had my mp3 player and a book so I was fine. Got into Chicago later than I wanted, had to hang around for a shuttle (Chicago's a big ass airport come to find out) all the while dragging a very heavy portfolio case and a box with all my books in it. Get to the hotel, check in, meet some PJers at the hotel bar where we were gauged on prices for beer and Midwestern tasting quesadias (sorry guys, you have to come to Texas to get good Tex Mex) and then hit the hay, a little drunk, ready to start the convention. Friday was kind of a bust. Other than meeting all the PJers who came and hanging out with Jeremy and his wife and brother in law, the day drug on like a three toed sloth eating peanut butter in the heat of August. Broken up by quite a few smoke breaks and a few trips to the "Expoteria," it was a really long day. Jeremy and I didn't have much to say to each other and ended up staring into space just dying for some foot traffic, conversation or spark of inspiration. That night was spent meeting new people in the bar.

Saturday was awesome. Friday a couple from a cable access channel some distance north of Chicago asked us if we'd do an interview. They were wanting to talk with small press creators, try to get a grass roots look at the big business, such as it is. We said we'd do a short interview, didn't cost us anything and they went off. The next day a camera and a few people show up at our table and really made us look probably more impressive than we deserved. Jeremy was all business and very articulate, I was talking through a haze of cotton mouth and blood-in-the-ear idiodicy. I don't expect to ever see the interview so it doesn't matter. We could have requested a copy, but I think that would have required a "donation." The rest of the day was just as exciting. Jeremy and I decided to actually work together and draw something, so he'd sketch random characters and I'd color them. These mo's sold like hotcakes. That and we offloaded about 20 books, I sold some pieces of finished art and Jeremy's wife got a lot of sketches and photos. It was a good day.

Sunday was more of the same, little less traffic, but still very cool. We got to wander the exhibit floor a bit and see some freaks and cool things. The amount of money put into this event is just staggering when you consider some insiders' views that the industry is dead or that comics are just for kids. Screw them. This place was bigger than most car shows I've been to, and I've been to a few. Made it home safe and sound, a little heavier in the art portfolio as I bought a case and Jeremy donated some boards.

You can see some con pictures here.

I came home and was treated to a good ol' Texas style freak storm. I can't really explain it any better. It wasn't just a thunderstorm, nor was it a tornado, it was somewhere in between. Right on our neighborhood, all the cold air over Texas decided it was going to drop through thousands of feet it what's called a downburst. It has tornado style impact on property because it's moving at up to 70mph. I'll get some damage pics up later, but let's just say it's enough to fell trees, fences and roofing. We sustained some moderate hail damage to car and house and our patio umbrella was shredded. We lost power for about 15 mins, but everyone was ok. So to commemorate the passing of the umbrella, Mrs. Austin and I decide now would be a great time to build that patio cover we'd been threatening to for the past year.

So here it is. It only took about 4 hours to put up, including shopping time for supplies. We had no plan, barely any measurements and just enough moxy to get this thing in place. We didn't even fight. Then we took on the arduous task of trimming back our mesquite tree. Folks, let me tell you, mesquite is the devil's tree. Both MA and I received some thorns in our feet because of this tree so we were more than happy to cut it's damned branches off. I'm pretty close to cutting the whole thing down, but it offers some shade so it stays...for now.

Things to do When Your Husband Forgets Your Birthday

Things to do When Your Husband Forgets Your Birthday


10. Pick a fight at 11:30 p.m.

9. Break all his pencils.

8. Let your child loose on his artwork with a bottle of glue and permanent markers.

7. Consider getting cozy with that divorce lawyer you used to work with.

6. Buy yourself expensive jewlery.

5. Use photoshop to black out his face in every family picture.

4. Subscribe him to that service that calls you to remind you of important dates.

3. Call his mom and tell on him.

2. Cry.

1. Use it as emotional blackmail for the rest of his life.

- Mrs. Austin

Happy Birthday To Me!

Twenty eight years ago Cliff and Sharon had a beautiful baby girl. They reached down and took her tiny hand in theirs and said hello for the very first time. She hasn't let go since.

I love you guys. Thanks for giving me a great start.

-Mrs. Austin

What would Jesus Castillo do?

Texas is not without it's share of stupid shit. Man I love Austin, but we got some uber-winners when it comes to the governing body of this state.

I'm sure most of you across the nation have by now heard about the Dems that have left the state to protest/avoid/delay the special session called by Gov. Perry to work on redistricting. That's national, that's debated, that's up to each person to decide what's right and wrong.

What you probably haven't heard is a little known case dealing with one Jesus Castillo, a comic book retailer in Texas. Castillo was convicted for selling an adult comic to an adult from a store that handles its adult material very carefully. However, the stores proximity to a school and in one counsel's remarks, comics being for kids, the jury ignored expert testimony and followed the trial with a guilty verdict based on an emotional closing argument.

For those with little kids, please cover their ears.

WHAT THE FUCK!!

Here's an excerpt from the close.

"And, again, why are we here? ... This medium, the medium that this obscenity is placed in is done so in an appealing manner to children. Comic books, and I don't care what type of evidence or what type of testimony is out there, use your rationality, use your common sense. Comic books, traditionally what we think of, are for kids. This is in a store directly across from an elementary school and it is put in a medium, in a forum, to directly appeal to kids. That is why we are here, ladies and gentlemen. I want to re-emphasize that the fact that all this smut is out there, does not mean it's acceptable and is decent by our community. We're here to get this off the shelf."

I'd like you to look at two things. First, comics are traditionally for kids. Yes, traditionally, in the 1950's! The average comic book subscriber is now late 20's early 30's, works a steady job and is more often then not married or has kids of their own. Getting a conviction on the opinion that comics are for kids isn't any better than getting a conviction for a Wal-Mart employee found selling an adult video game, rated R movie or firearm to an adult. Where does it stop?

Secondly, the phrase "and I don't care what type of evidence or what type of testimony is out there...use your common sense." What? WHAT? You don't CARE what kind of evidence is out there? This asshat needs to be careful what he says, he's going to end up setting Rules of Evidence cases back 30 years with this bullshit. And as a juror, would you listen to a lawyer that said that? I don't care what kind of evidence is out there. I don't care about this airtight alibi, or the eyewitnesses, or the lack of forensic evidence, or the fact that the defendant wasn't in the country, doesn't your common sense just tell you that he's guilty? Look at him? Jack McCoy would be having a FIELD DAY with this case.

On the heels of just printing up my own, PG-13 comic book (no sex, mild violence) I'm really worried about this case. If a retailer can't sell it, what does the creator do? Why aren't these guys attacking the adult video stores? Why is sex even a problem in this country? The Italians are just laughing at us. Now that we have Reverend George Bush in the White House, this kind of emotional legal crap is going to slide down that slippery slope like Peekaboo Street coated in KY. This absolutely infuriates me. What's worse is both the Texas Court of appeals AND the Unites States Supreme Court have refused this case. So this poor schlep just trying to make a dime by selling comic books gets to spend a year under supervised probation, and pay $4000.

Now before you get up on your rebuttal soap box and say, "But Mr. Austin, don't YOU have a child? Would you want her exposed to this kind of filth?" Let me say this. First, the material in question was clearly marked, away from general viewing and required a photo ID to purchase. If you're under 18, you wouldn't have been able to even see it on the shelf. Second, I know what is bad and what is good. I know what's best for my child. I know how to watch out for her. I know what I'll tell her when she's older so she can appreciate adult material for what it is, adult material. I can't stop her, but I can educate her. It's the parent's job to teach and protect their children. I'm insulted that the legal system feels it's their job to not only obliterate my 1st Amendment rights, but to assume that my child may be in danger from a threat no worse than the Playboys in 7-11. This case is an abomination and shouldn't have gone as far as an appeal to the USSC, it should have died in the grand jury. The judge should have taken one look at this case and said, "You're kidding right?" But on the heals of the Minor Protection/Put Your Child In A Government Funded Bubble actions being taken in Arkansas right now, I fear the life of the comic book industry is slowly coming to an end. Meanwhile, prostitutes and crack heads are free to walk the streets. Yeah, I don't see the distinction either.

On a separate note, but relating a little to first part of this entry, Mrs. Austin and I met Rep. Lloyd Doggett (D-Travis County) last night at our local National Night Out event. Mrs. Austin had some question for him about his stance on the Dems breaking quorum and he said he was totally for it and in fact they're having a rally this Saturday to protest Gov. Perry's 2nd special session in the house. Mrs. Austin knows her stance, knows it's wrong to waste money on these sessions while the budgets are being cut. I'm not so sure. I want to cheer the Dems on, but I have no reference for it. I don't know enough about it to make a stance. The last couple months I've had tunnel vision and haven't paid much attention. So Mrs. Austin will be at the rally while I'm in Chicago. Please, if you're in Austin, come by the south steps of the capital at 11:30am on August 9th and make yourself heard.

If you're not, well then go find something in your state to fight for.

THE HORROR!!

As you know Mrs. Austin and I try to take time on the weekends to do all things Austin, or at least all things Central Texas. We have a guide book from Austin Monthly Magazine that comes out in May of each year chronicling the cool things to do. Well it's gone. Our oracle of knowledge about the 103 best things to do in our fair city is missing. Whatever shall we do? We'll be relegated to movies and bowling and never again experience the rapture that is swimming in a secluded spring or enjoying fine German cuisine.

It's not all that bad, but we're a little disheartened. Mainly because we turned our house upside down looking for them. (There are two, one from last year as well.) There was no stone left unturned, which leads us to one sad conclusion. The books were taken.

Now I'm not one to point fingers, so I won't. They're just magazines and we can back order more. But if turns out someone did abscond with them at some point in the past 2 weeks, how low. How low to remove a magazine from someone's house. We wracked our brains trying to think if we'd lent them to somebody at work or family, but just couldn't make any connections. They were on the table, now they're gone.

Yeah, not a lot going on at our house lately. Can you tell?

Well it's done. After 3 months of staying up late, getting pissed that some pages weren't as nice as I wanted and finally getting a great deal on printing, my comic book is finally finished. Next to being a dad, this trip to Chicago is probably the most importan thing I've done or probably will do and it wasn't an easy road. The family's made a lot of sacrifices, financially and emotionally to help make this happen and I owe them big time, especially Mrs. Austin who almost had to put off going back to school to get this going. We've had to put off a few fun things this summer and I've had to postpone my brother's birthday present as well. (I'm getting that to you by the way.)

I've learned a lot doing this, mostly in the art department. I've learned I CAN draw fast if I need to and that if I didn't need to I could do a really good job. I've learned a lot about lighting and mass and points of view. Most importantly I've learned the value of having friends and family. Between them I've been given time to work, gracious bits of work and inspiration and constant coaching and critiques that have helped make this the best it could be in the time given. I'm DEFINITELY looking forward to starting the book as a series now, making it my life's work as well as my hobby. I don't plan on quitting my job, but it's nice to have something other than a rat-race 9-5 to come home to. By this time next year I may even have a full 26 page color book. Wouldn't THAT be something.

So now I've got a box full of 100 copies of Project: Gemini sitting on my kitchen table. Some are going to a party tonight so I can bask in the limelight a little, the bulk are going to Chicago with other bits of artwork and whatever's left is going to the local comic shops. (Yeah, a book on the shelves even, how exciting!)

I'm also glad it's done, I've been slacking on chores and time with the family. Life In Austin has lately turned into Life of Mr. Austin so I hope that will change too. As much as I like drawing comics, I can't let it rule my life...yet. When it pays well enough to take care of my family, then it can do what it wants to me.

Week's worth of stuff.

What a week. So much to talk about. So much going on.

It started last weekend with Lance Armstrong, an Austinite, winning is 5th straight Tour de France. He ties Miguel Indurain of Spain for the most consecutive victories in Tour history, and since he's from Austin, that's big news for our town.

Next comes the Democrats in the Legislature breaking quorum again on a Republican called special session. This is the 2nd time this summer the Dems have exercised their option to leave the state (this time to New Mexico) and it's sparked a lot of debate. The last time a group of state senators broke quorum was 1979, the Killer B's. Before that was something like 1875. It's a huge deal in the city and state right now. For a good recap and point of view, check this out.

To cap the weekend off, Mrs. Austin and I cruised to Carlos and Charlie's on the lake. If you don't know Austin, it's basically a boat bar. Decent enough restaurant, you can rent boats and jet-skiis and they also put on concerts. Well that later bit was new to us and two of our favorite live bands, Los Lonely Boys and Bob Schneider were playing. So we went basically long enough to see them, then we headed back. I got a lot done on my (now finished) first comic and over all it was a good weekend.

The refinance woes are now a memory. After telling these people we didn't want to pay escrow at the end of the year, I guess they decided we're too savvy and would have probably dumped them sooner than later. That's the last we heard from them. Good riddance. (And that's all I'll say about finances.)

Lil Miss Austin is just developing by leaps and bounds. She's enrolled in a little dance class now that comes to her school and teaches them...well...dance, as well as some basic gymnastics. For a 2 year old, basic gymnastics include jumping and summersaults. If I see her doing any vaults in the next few weeks I'm calling Bella right now! She's still precocious and charming, lately a little whiney, like she's always hurting or tired or something. She's also just damn cute. I've noticed she still doesn't grasp the Why question, but you can be guaranteed that it will hit soon. She knows how to count and what colors are what, what's hot and cold, what hurts, what's dark and scary, what tastes good, what her name is....it's just amazing what little sponges they are.

A friend and his wife recently had their 2nd, and while I haven't seen the little one yet, I know it's going to make me and Mrs. Austin take a close look at our family planning. We like having just one child, our lives feel full enough. We always get the question, "So are you going to have another?" Well, we might? Why? Are we in a race? Did a starter's gun go off when I was in the bathroom? I know it's socially acceptable and probably a benefit for the child to have a sibling, but that's no reason to prod parents with that stupid question. If we have another, we have another one. It may be by accident or after months or years of trying. If we never have another, are we disqualified from the Earth? I'm guessing the question is more often then not just a polite conversation starter and in no way meant to pick apart the private lives of parents, but let's find some other way to break the ice, shall we? I don't want to feel that this magical little creature we dote over is somehow less than perfect because she is a single. I don't want to feel lacking because I chose quantity over quality. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to own a hockey team, but I wouldn't want to father one.

The Flip

My brother in law and I were talking about the differences between being single and married, or single and dating. We came up with a good point.

If you're single, and you know a girl who drinks a lot and is real friendly when she drinks, you do whatever you can to put yourself into a situation that involves this girl and a quart of gin.

If you're married, you try to avoid this girl or make sure you've left the bar before you're the only one left to give her a ride home.

If you're single and a girl is flirting with you at the bar, when you know it's just to get free drinks you think, "Hey, out of all the guys here, she's at least picking me to get free drinks out of."

If you're married you think, "This skank has all these other guys to work on, why's she trying to get a free drink outta me?"

Even if the girl is hot, when you're married, friendly hammered chicks are kind of annoying. When you're single they are a jackpot, and the stuff of legend.

Not that either of us have a lot of experience with this. We're both married and I'm pretty sure have it quite good. I'll just leave it at that before our wives read more into this.

Wait, wait. I've got a coupon.

Depending on what part of the country you're from, you have a local drug store. Eckerd’s, Walgreen’s, I think it's GDC on the East Coast. These stores have a weird collection of items ranging from the not-so-useful to the purely eccentric. I like to think of them as an Impulse Shoppers Paradise. Really, the only reason you should go to these places is to get your Rx filled or before a road trip to see if there's anything really novel you're forgetting, like an Alabama CD or one of 10 novels they may have. Walgreen’s, especially, is notorious for having very little in stock, nothing in bulk, and no high end items. They don't have a lot of groceries, cool Sharper Image type things or the full range of office supplies one might need. It's also a place where they could run out.

That's right, in our day and age of consumer gluttony where we're only happy with our purchasing experience when we can log roll 22 gallons of mayonnaise out to our car, having to hear the words "out of stock" seem like their coming from another planet. And they art, sort of. These midsize drug stores harken back to the days when they were the Wal-Marts and Super Targets. They were the big kid on the block. But they've kept their ideals and their size and their product selection....and their clientele.

Oh Lordy what do I gotta do to shop at this place without having to stand behind the AARP'er trying to pay for make up, deodorant (moth ball scent), batteries and cranberry juice with twice as many coupons as she has items. I've worried that I've overspent before, like at a Best Buy when I feel guilty about paying $50 for a video game, but this is nearly haggling, another lost art. "Well, I think 3 chickens is a fair price, but I think you can do better. How about 2 chickens and a duck for this basket of Maybelline?"

Not to mention that they have to pay in exact change, change they don't have ready, change they can't find, change they don't even know they may or may not have. So after 10 mins of bickering over whether the weekly special on flash bulbs and Ambesol actually registered on the register, then digging through a purse the size of a waterbed bladder looking for 96¢, it's time for me to move up.

And the whole reason I go, is because cigarettes are cheaper there. We're not just talking a few cents. If a local kiosk selling gum, muffins and smokes charges $4.50, and the gas station is charging $3.50, Walgreen’s is charging $2.50. It's weird. I guess in the end, they're keeping a lot of things from the past, including the price of smokes.

Sinead O'conner I'm not.

There's nothing like shaving your own head. I've done it once before, but it was along with my brother. We grew long hair together, we shaved heads together. Sort of a bonding experience. Back in the day, I would shave down to nigh the scalp coming ever so close to needing to Shick it to get any less hair. Well I've gone and done it again. In a desperate act of hair dresser avoidance, I clamped the #3 guard onto the clippers and let fly with about 3 months of mop.

I tell you what. Something very cathartic about shaving your own head, even better if it's on a whim. I had planned to get my hair cut, and threatened to "trim it up" myself, but never to just go at it with some clippers. So as I stood staring at myself in the mirror, stripped down to my shorts, looking at my Johnny Storm hairdo, something profound came over me. Not a sadness, but an acceptance. Like a drunk finally making the first step in recognizing his problem. So the clippers came to life and I began hacking away like a weed whacker to that unruly patch of grass underneath the gas meter. The clippers sang out like a heavy metal guitar as lock after lock was dumped into the sink. I start slowly, and around the back and sides, so if I changed my mind I could still wear a hat for a day or two while seeking professional intervention. Then with one fatal swoop, I went for the widow's peak.





Widow's peak is a euphemism. I'm 30 now and the hair is receding so it's not so much a peak as it is a remnant. It military terms, as most balding men tend to use in these situations, it's scrimmage line for an ordered retreat. But there's frightfully few of them boys left. It almost looks like I'd just missed a spot. It's thin and scattered and hopeless. It's mere presence is a reminder that, while I feel young again by taking drastic stylist steps on my own, I am moving steadily on toward the end of my life rather than moving away from the beginning. It's humbling and ridden with anxiety.

Ameriquest woes

Another fun aspect of owning a home, fun in the classic Greek sense where there's a guy wearing a mask with a big nose, is the refinancing of your mortgage loan. To say I have a good grasp of how mortgage-lending works would be to insult brokers everywhere in the world. I have no more sense about such things than the average May Fly. Mrs. Austin was either solicited or started the process on her own to refinance our 6.25 loan with Ameriquest. They said they could help AND get us cash back as a home equity loan. We said go for it.

Now, if Mr. Brighton or Mrs. Colorado Springs are reading this, let me preface by saying we haven't signed anything and don't plan to.

So some time has gone by since our first dealings with Ameriquest. Mrs. Austin has brought me up to speed and I've done what I can in my capacity as an idiot to help with the proceedings. After we'd sent many an article of payment and bank history to these folks, we're still no closer to a) Understanding what's going on and b) Getting what was promised to us than we were 2 months ago.

The original deal goes like this. Contact is made. Our credit isn't very good, it's not bad, but it's not sterling. We had good enough scores to actually obtain the house, but to get a lower rate requires a credit report that hasn't had any activity since 1960 at which point the 30 years of prior spotless payment history was closed out, sealed in the hall of records and buried under the remains of the Statue of Liberty, to be excavated by Simian descendants of man wearing leather tunics and riding horses. With this in mind, the strategy changed from "lower rate and home loan" to "higher rate for a year, home loan, next year lower rate." Ok, we agreed. To get a lower rate is worth the sacrifice of one year at a higher rate while we repair our oxygen deprived credit scores. On top of it all, we get a few G's in a loan to help with the bills. Keep the "bills" bit in mind, it'll come into play later.

More time goes by. We don't hear from Ameriquest for weeks and we're starting to worry. One of the initial points was we don't pay on our current loan for 2 months during the process. Naive as I am, I don't ask why, I just assume it has to do with paperwork changing hands. Again, total moron. So while we're waiting for our closing now, our bank note is falling behind, and no one from Ameriquest has contacted our lender to tell them we're refinancing. On top of that, the original appraisal of our house has suddenly dropped below the level that will ensure us a home equity loan. The deal is slowly going south. I feel like Lando trying to keep Bespin while Darth Vader is hunting down rebels. "This deal is getting worse all the time."

Today was the back-breaker for me. Having very little to do with the dealings up until now, my only call to Ameriquest didn't sit well with my gut. My guts have seen me through quite a few spells and I just didn't see this deal as being on the up and up. First off, I'm referring to it as a "deal." Where's Monty to let me pick door number 2? As the rep explained it to us, we would be basically getting the cash back in the form of savings over the next year from not paying on our current loan for 2 months now and 2 more months in one year's time. Then we would be getting our escrow account refunded to us. Problem is, we'd still have to pay taxes on the property at the end of the year. Meanwhile our payments on the principle and interest were going up on a monthly basis, more than what a slight interest rate increase would yield. Something sounded wrong.

Something indeed. Like fish left in the back seat of a Datsun in Baton Rouge in August, the smell of this started to stick to my clothes. As soon as we fought back, just a little, to say that it'd be better for us that we pay the Tax along with the Principle and Interest and Insurance, suddenly their computers went down and they'd have to call us back. Call it Sad, Call it Funny, but it's better than even money that it's a stall tactic that this company is trying to use to string us along until we're so desperate for the funds we'll sign on to anything. Right after the call I checked epinions.com and put Ameriquest into the search field. 2 reviews, both bad. Both basically summing up what has been said here. One with an unresolved outcome, one with a decent outcome that required calls to the Better Business Bureau.

Speaking of the BBB, you should look up Ameriquest on their site. I'd say the report was scathing, but I don't know business. I'm pretty sure that when terms like "fails" "unsatisfactory" "unresolved" and "consumer complaints" are used, that's not going to win you many beauty contests.

So now we're in limbo. Yes, it's good we haven't made any commitments. Yes, I'm glad we found out about it. Yes I'm upset we didn't get the offer that was promised. The thing that upsets me most is we're now behind in regular monthly accounting practices because of the delays. It's really unfortunate that in an effort to straighten up and fly right, get ahead on bills, get a better rate on our home, we're going to end up even further behind. Now things like school and Chicago trips are threatened. Thoughts of selling household items to pay the bills is starting to creep into my mind. Hmm, blood goes for $25 a pop. I can get 10 bucks for those X-Men cards I have. Is that fair? Is that right? Is that the American Dream? No, but it's apparently the American Quest.

(Will update this story as more information becomes available.)

You invited WHO to the picnic?

So we were going to head out to Hamilton pool Sunday for a nice little picnic and swimming. Mrs. Austin loves the place, can't seem to get enough of it. I, on the other hand, find it gorgeous and serene, but I'm not a big swimmer, so I take my art or a book and a pack of smokes and enjoy the view. Lil Miss Austin loves swimming as well. She's so cute with her little inflatable life vest and swim suit. She can dog paddle now but occassionaly tips onto her back like a turtle and starts sucking down water so we have to remain close. It's not like we can just let her do laps, she's only 2.

Anyway, we head to Hamilton Sunday morning without calling first. Bad news. Mrs. Austin is always sure to call ahead, but this time it was spaced out and I never think to call. The reason you would call ahead is because it's a natural run off swimming hole. It's not a spring, so they have to check the bacteria levels and animal fecal levels and a battery of tests that I'd just as soon not know about or I'd never go swimming there again. It's a little creek that's carved it's way into an underground cave, and over time the cave wore away and a nice little swimming hole with a beautiful water fall was born.

Well we didn't get in Sunday. We've been once this year, and 3 times last year so the only thing wasted was the expectation and the drive. So we thought, we'll let's head to Krausse Springs. Krausse is a spring that turns into a little stream that ran through an old German's land. He damned it and directed it in certain areas and the result is a breathtaking little water fall and swimming hole. Mrs. Austin found it by sheer determination and a mind like an iron trap. We'd been once before, but if you paid me to find it I'd take you to Dallas, I had no idea. So we found it, and we found it crowded. The last time we visited we were but the third car to arrive. We spent a good amount of time by the little manicured pool then headed down to the falls. This time, it was like White Trash Day. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, it is called a swimmin' hole after all. Not that I'd want this place all to myself, but I was just amazed how many people were there. It's apparently the number one thing to do in Austin according to Austin Monthly Magazine's 103 things to do in 2003.

Well we had a good time. I dropped LMA as I slipped on some rocks, got sunburned and bitten by ants. However, I got some good pictures and some drawing done, Mrs. Austin got to swim and relax, and LMA got to play with rocks and water. It was a good time. I suggest visiting if you're in the area.

Home Sweet Home

The joys of home ownership are as numerous as the headaches. For every touch of love you put in, there's an equal and opposite catastrophe that requires you to empty your savings and learn about electrical work, plumbing or masonry.

Case and point, we have just finished doing the preliminary work on refinancing our house. Turns out we will be getting a home loan, have to pay a higher rate for a year and next year get a lower rate than what we have now. Doesn't affect our monthly payment, plus we get cash. Win win. I'm still a little confused as to how it works, but I know that the couple things left on our credit must be rectified. In purchasing the house in the first place, I know how fun dealing with your credit is, and no matter how much we fix things, in two years time something else from our past will probably pop up in a perpetual goose chase with faxes, pay stubs and phone calls.

But that's not the reason for my call, Doc. I was going off on the yin and yang of home ownership. So we are now expecting a good sized chunk of money in the next couple weeks (and for you Kato Kaylin's out there, it's to pay the bills we're already behind on, so don't look to us for a free club membership to Chez Austin.) With perfect English thespian timing, the air conditioner starts leaking. When I say leaking, I'm referring to how Niagara Falls leaks more than how a tap might drip a few times during the course of a day. There hasn't been this much water in our garage since our 2nd night in the house when I ceremoniously pried the water valve off the wall.

Being the industrious squirrels we are, and with some advice from Mr. Austin Sr., we made the trek to Home Depot and purchased some tubing, PVC elbows and other needed items and created a fine Rube Goldberg contraption designed to ferry the leaking water out of the AC/Water Heater closet and into the washing machine drain. It was A-Team tight. What we didn't count on was one thing. Water usually drips down and not up. So our ad hoc plumbing, while attractive and time consuming, really didn't do much. Along with a big air pump designed to inflate children’s' pools, we were at best keeping the deluge at bay.

A call to our local HVAC professionals, and $70 later revealed the AC doesn't drain out to where it should, but into the waste water line. We thought that made sense, so we called the City. City guy comes out and gives us the 411 on how the HVAC people screwed up out of $70 because nothing runs into the waste water line, gave us a boat load of tips on how to take care of these problems ourselves, and then didn't charge us a dime. Say what you want about city employees, this guy was top shelf. So we exchanged water on the rocks for his "contract" number in case we have any more questions and he went merrily on his way. Yeah we lost a day waiting for both these chaps, but the AC works for the next couple weeks and we have learned a valuable lesson. "It's always the 2nd guy that has all the answers."

"Flash" Jordan Thomas

Austin isnt' without its share of Freaks. Probably the most famous, and literally and institution, is Leslie. The thong wearing, gristled old whatever-it-is is a mainstay on 6th Street. However, just slightly less well known is the slew of cable access shows Austin has to offer. I've actually only seen a handful of episodes, more than half of those were of some normal looking guy getting really agitated over the Presidency.

However, even cable access fame is still fame. Our group at work just took a lunch at Spaghetti Warehouse and while there a coworker noticed an older gentleman dressed like Elvis enter the restaurant. We all took our gracious inauspicious glances at his table. Black tee shirt, trademark gold specs, chops, immaculately quaffed hair. As we were glancing and giggling, the waitress mentioned that the table was being occupied by none other than Jordan Thomas. Who? we asked. Apparently, "Flash" Jordan Thomas has one of the top rated access shows in the city and is somewhat of a cult classic. I plan on looking for this show now, but after looking at the description I may just leave this Pandora’s Box closed. See for yourself. (Look for Austin City Lights)