13.5.04

Good Things Come In Threes

Little Miss Austin is officially 3 years old as of Sunday. I'm writing this at work (actually, I write most of these at work) and I'm having to cram two days of work into a couple hours so I can take some time off to be with The Brighton Duo. Notice how I am taking the time to write even though I should be working. It's a theme that has saturated my work days. I like to work really hard for 15 minutes, then mess around for 10. In the course of the day I work probably about 3-4 hours out of the 8-9 I'm here. I'm wandering now, I meant to just put up some birthday pics, but instead I'm rambling on about me.

I'm sure I'll have more about "me" later. For those who are just here for the pictures, you can tune out after these.

On the pregnancy front, the kid has flopped over AGAIN into the breech position. With less than two weeks until arrival, it's looking like this may be a c-section. This is hurting Mrs. Austin for two main reasons. First of all, it physically hurts. This much movement is killing her, for real. Guys, if you plan on having kids, just grasp the fact that there is no pain or level of discomfort you can imagine in the course of your average male life that will compare to what your lady will or has gone through during pregnancy. Yeah, passing a stone I hear is pretty bad. Yeah getting nutmegged with a hockey puck is a little painful. But keep in mind, this is a 9 month endeavor. Could you imagine being wracked every 15 minutes for 3 months? I didn't think so. So just shut up and sit in the corner waiting for your summons to fetch food and administer foot rubs.

At any rate, LMA's 3rd birthday came and went. With some family coming in the next weekend we held off on the big to-do in favor of an inflatable pool-scape in the backyard on an overcast day. LMA doesn't really care one way or the other if her friends are over or not or if mommy and daddy are trying to ruin another grill as long as she can through things in a shallow pool of water and run around screaming at the dog.




Oh cabana boy? Bring me a koolaid.



Arrr! I'm the Littlest Pirate. Avast ye adultlike scallywags!



More toys should come with a water canon.



I cast you into the air. Fly! Be free!






I've nothing further to add. There's apparently something going in the Middle East, but I'm not qualified to even complain about. I'll vote my conscience in November, but until then I'll just listen to NPR and Air America Radio and be quiet.

7.5.04

Nothing new to report.



Seriously. Status Quo. You'll know when we do. Not that I'm tired of getting phone calls asking about Mrs. Austin's health, I'm just finding it hard to write about anything else. Frankly, there's nothing else going on.

To give you and indication of how little is going on, we have 1 new photo in the past 2 weeks.

I'll let you soak that up a bit. It's been a slow few weeks at work and Mrs. A's been going cuckoo at home by herself. The term "mow the roof" has come up a couple times, in jest, commenting on how she is looking for anything to do. The house has never been cleaner, Lil Miss Austin's lunches are all made the night before. Errands that have been put off for months have been done. It's like having a personal assistant. Well, it's like having a personal assistant that requires random naps and chocolate and might occasionally fall over.

Seriously. Those visiting will notice the front bathroom has some new tile and the hedges have been expertly trimmed.

Nesting my ass, this is Bob Villa shit. A blitzkrieg of home improvement on the eve of the New One's arrival.

Which leaves me to do little at all aside from trudging through the day to day and coming home to be a walking brace and answering service.

So now I have this place to update, so I will.

The Avs are out of the playoffs. They were stopped 2 games short of being only the 3rd team in NHL history to come back from a 3-0 game deficit is the playoffs. I have to tell you, unlike most years, I'm not terribly saddened or shocked that this happened. Most times I'd be grumpy for days, eschewing all hockey related news and events the moment the Avs were ousted. Not this time. I'm still visiting NHL.com to get the latest news on the CBA and to see if any other deals are being made. I'm actually quite hopeful the Flames will do well this time and bring the Cup back to Canada. I figure we killed a couple Canadians in the war, they can have the prize back.

But let's face it, the Avs were anything but a powerhouse this year. And it's the end of an era I believe. Detroit, Dallas and Colorado, perennial favorites each year, looked pretty sick this time around. The aging Red Wings barely able to keep up with the younger teams, the battered Stars not being able to generate offense and the scattered Avs having their team daily reconfigured so as to lose all cohesiveness. When I look at the teams that are left, I'm quite surprised, namely at the Southern California and Floridian teams. There's not even any ice for your drinks in these places much less to skate on. It's just not natural.

Forsberg is gone. Let him go. Stop being so clingy. The Kariya/Selanne deal was a bust. Cash them out and send them back to the Ducks. Abby is still a good prospect, Svatos looks promising. But dammit Lacroix, stop wheeling and dealing for a while. Let these guys get some chemistry. The CBA will expire, there will be no agreement and there will be no hockey so let it rest for a year, play with what's left when the dust settles. I'm ok with it. Denver'd be ok with it. We've already got two more championships than the Nuggets and the Rockies.

Moving on, what's left. Oh yeah. We tortured some foreigners. Heck yeah! Go America! Nothing like bombing the shit out of a country to free them from oppressive rule, then take the survivors to the same prisons and do worse things then the original dictator ever conceived. Saddam is in some Cuban safe house thinking, "Naked? A human pyramid? Sweet Fancy Allah that's creative!" But I won't comment on it any further. Others have, I'll leave it to them.

Hey, Friends is over. Lattes for everyone. I don't know. I can't get worked up over this. When you cancel Farscape because it's too expensive, but this show and its billionaire cast lives on for 10 years, I shed no HDTears for you. It's not good riddance, it's just riddance.

I have a beef about people not answering emails. Not people so much, like my friends or family, but people as in giant conglomerates. Embrace the technology you fools!! My whole point is if you put a Contact Us page up, and it has a phone number AND an email, well then answer the god damn emails! What does that say to you as a consumer? That you're voice should only be heard if it's just your voice being heard? Emailing a company larger than, say, a local florist, is like placing a phone call to the Byzantine Era. It's a slap in the face. We're supposed to swallow that bullshit form letter down and pretend we didn't send anything. If companies answered phones like they do email, there would be no companies. I'm going to start picking Fortune 500 companies at random and sending them emails from their web sites with questions like, "Greetings. I am quite interested in dropping inconceivable amounts of cash into advertising with or for your company. I am not the Prince of Syria, I'm an American citizen. Please email me back at your earliest convenience." Then sit back and wait for the Nothing to rear its vacant head.

Man. Need to get off that subject.

I'm still kickin' with the art. The funkiness attributed to not having the time needed to make a solid push into the industry comes and goes with each new issue Jeremy Dale puts out, but I did get my first commission. Someone saw my art and said, "I gots ta have me some of that." I'm a little worried that it's taking me so long to do it, but that's what happens when you've got 30 mins a day to draw. Half that time is getting set up. I know, bitch bitch bitch.

Well, that's about all I've got this time around. Sorry it was mostly blithe filler, but I'm sure soon enough you'll be getting tired of all the baby pictures and the longing for pithy commentary will consume you.

Until then...





28.4.04

We're close people, I can feel it.

Just a quick update for all you baby watchers. Mrs. Austin and I are enjoying a West Wing while I'm typing this on her new laptop.

I have to say laptop, it's not labtop. At one point in the past, when portable computers were new and plugged into main frames, they were mainly used in laboratory situations and called lab tops.

Come on now, they were. Really.

Ok even if they're not, I have to call this thing a notebook now because my lips can't form two p's in the same word apparently.

And I can't even really say that we're enjoying West Wing right now. It has nothing to do with the absence of Sorkin as the creative drive, it's that Mrs. Austin is terribly uncomfortable with contractions. That's right, evening contractions are now between 8-15 minutes apart. She's packed a suitcase and we've told the people who need to help what to expect. One of the last Dr. visits today revealed that the baby has now flipped over and the head is huge. Not huge like deformed, but huge like "I am not looking forward to pushing that thing out of me" huge. Heartbeat is 147, so maybe a girl.

Yeah, another girl. It's actually pretty cool. Lil Miss Austin is such a groovy kid, having another kinda like her would be fun. But man I don't look forward to being outnumbered. Even more reason for me to ramp up the Muppet demeanor, that'll keep me in the game.

But my mind is wandering. We're close to having this second child now and other than pushing through some painful and uncomfortable contractions, we're oddly calm about it. At least I am, but I'm the one with a laptop...er, notebook on my lap watching the West Wing.

So anyway, I don't expect anything new in the next day or two but I think the next update may have new baby pictures. Maybe some pictures of the current spazoid will hold you over.



Little Miss Austin meets the worlds smallest taco.


The perils of creativity, the inability to find a proper medium.


The perils of being cute and sleepy, mom's always got a camera.

19.4.04

The Redecorating Continues

So this weekend was spent finishing the face lifts on one of the last rooms in the house to be updated. Honestly, I'd still like to do something with the office since most of the stuff in there is considered geek collectible nonsense, so something along the line of Geek Chic I feel would be appropriate. However, I believe the kitchen, realistically will be the last room tackled, then maybe some landscaping. Then we move.





So we finally took a stab at the bedroom. The master bath I got away with a stay of execution by suggesting a coat of paint and some new towel racks, but eventually the sink and bathtub will have to go. It's cool the way it is, but I'm sure Mrs. Austin will tire of it's theme eventually. She'll talk me into it again by offering a trip into outer space or something. But the bedroom was only ever going to be paint. We wanted to do the windows as well, get some blinds or new drapes or some such, but could never really get that going.

All along I wanted to continue with the rest of the house theme of giant bold shapes or stripes, but was voted down on the gold base with large red diamonds for the bedroom. Frankly I think that would have looked like ass so I'm glad we didn't go that route. However, pushing for a brushed look held firm and Mrs. A was integral in deciding on the colors and we went with a gold brush over a tan base. The actual color is Yellowstone, but come on, who needs to know that.

Oh but we're not done yet. As you can see from the furniture, there are black accents involved, so we had to incorporate black into the paint as well. Not satisfied with just doing baseboards and door jambs, we decide it would be very cool to cover the chair rail wallpaper we couldn't peel off with a thick black stripe. It was bold, it was daring, it was risk we were willing to take. Black gloss is not a high seller at Lowe's, especially interior paint. Unless you're opening a night club or you just really love The Cure, there's no incentive to buy it. Hence, there were maybe 3 cans in the whole store. Little cans too. They sat there on the shelf like hesitation stab wounds; not really making the effort, but there just in case someone crazy enough came along shouting "I need an accent to my newly painting room and only shocking black gloss will suffice!"

Seriously, I was nervous. You can tell how a paint will affect a room by how you feel putting it on the brush then onto the wall for the very first time. I thought the gold was bad (and by bad I don't mean it looks bad, just that it was different and scary) but putting black on a wall is almost like dipping a French Fry into a chocolate malt; it's deliciously naughty. So the first swaths went down, then one wall's done, then another, then some base boards, and before you know it, the room is complete. Even the outlets are painted a shiny noir. We added back the black drapes that were recently abandoned in favor of lighter Roman shades, put up some gold framed paintings and voila! Instant Grecian bedding chamber.

It's quite stunning, actually. Not only does it match the furniture, but it makes the room feel cozy, yet bold and decadent at the same time. Something I'm sure we'll get used to, but it makes you want to keep the room clean so you can enjoy the ambiance. Yes, I need incentive like that to keep a room clean, shaddup. Mrs. Austin made the comment that this will be the cleanest this room will ever be, ever.


















So this season, I guess some would call it Spring, is wildflower season in Texas. Growing up in Colorado there were two seasons; Winter and those two weeks of Summer. There wasn't really a fall since we'd get snow in late September which would kill all the trees, and then 2 months of Indian Summer until December or January. Then it was cold and snowy until nearly May, sometimes June. Then it just got hot and dry. So to have actual seasons is somewhat of a shock. However, spring is big here. It starts a little earlier with the Cedar Fever around the first of the year, then slowly rolls into a rainy season in which you have 5 minutes to mow your lawn between February and May. But eventually you get wildflowers. The most famous, so much so its the state flower, is the blue bonnets. Come spring break, everyone with a child is stopping along the highways to get their kid into a field of legally protected flaura for a good snapshot to send home to the family in Canada or Mexico or some other place that apparently doesn't have flowers of their own. Our family is no exception. This years crop wasn't as prolific as past years, but there were enough beds to find a nice place to get some Little Miss Austin photos. So without further ado...










Mrs. Austin is doing ok. For those who we've talked to already, you know about the bed rest. For those who don't, someone tell us about pregnant women overheating. The doctors all think it's a virus, but high blood pressure just doesn't make anyone sit well, so we are taking it easy now. The weekend was spent watching hockey, painting and doing laundry. And it looks like we needed to.



So, am I hip now?







10.4.04


It is a mathematical fact that the casting of this pebble from my hand alters the centre of gravity of the universe.

- Thomas Carlyle, Sartor Resartus III








That's right suckers. Mr. Austin defied the perils of gravity from 11,000 feet and jumped from an airplane, on purpose. My writing this now means I'm ok, obviously, so all you weak of hearts can just relax ok?

Yes it was exciting and thrilling and a little frightening. I say a little frightening because honestly I've been more afraid of other things in my life, which is weird I know, but I was also with my family and professionals so I knew I'd be ok. I never had foreboding thought enter my head, just the anticipation of freefall and the gentle calm of the parachute ride down.

Let me back up a little. For Mrs. Austin's brother's 30th birthday, we got a skydive with video. He and his wife have been once before and loved it so we thought a good gift would be to send him again. Mrs. A then does her damnedest to talk me into going along with her brother. She says it will be fun and she's a little bewildered that I'm not chomping at the bit to go along. (That's a pervasive theme throughout, and you'll see in a little bit.) So finally I agree to go, just a couple days ago actually, and our jump was Friday.

The the big day rolls around and we all head down to a little town outside San Marcos called Fentress where Skydive San Marcos is located. If you don't know Texas, San Marcos is home of the outlet mall between Austin and San Antonio. San Marcos is close the New Braunfels, home of the world famous Schlitterbahn Waterpark.

Anyway. We get there, sign up and wait for almost 2 hours before it's our turn to go. In all fairness, you have to remember that it's not like a ride at Six Flags. One plane can only hold so many people and after a while that plane needs gas. LMA went with us and had a pretty good time running around being cute and what not, like usual. All things aside, it was a good day for her. She was fun and friendly and more well behaved than any day we could remember.




If only they made parachutes that small.



So now it's our group's turn to go. We get on our jump suits and get our 10 minutes worth of training, which boils down to the tandem jumpers saying "Please don't get in my way" but they were all very good and friendly and informative. Seriously though, when you're already falling from an aircraft, are there things you can do to mess the situation up further? I would think my actions lend to the falling coming to and end rather than perpetuating it.




Just for legal purposes I'm sure. I'M SURE!!



I can't really describe the calm I felt as I donned my jumpsuit and harness. As mentioned before, I was without the feelings of apprehension and dread. Even comically, there weren't the signs around the office saying "Jumps without a fatality: 27" although getting onto the plane the tandem jumpers were very quick to ask each other the last time they had to pull the reserve chute, which I thought was endearing at most.




No no, there's two O's in Goose.



So the three of us headed for the plane, brother-in-law and sister-in-law practicing their altimeter check/rip cord pull Martha Graham moves until the last second. I had little to worry about, they had their own fate in their hands really, so I could understand them feeling a little trepidacious. I did poke fun at them a lot, watching them mime their actions to be as if there was an audition for the Met in 15 minutes.










Like lambs being led to slaughter...



So we board the plane, don't ask what the plane was because I didn't find out. It was a small prop plane with a loading hatch. Growing up attending the Air Force Academy Falcons football games, I was witness to the Wings of Blue and their plane was a Twin Otter, I can only assume this was a similar craft. Anyway, once aboard we sit in front of our tandem jumpers and circle up and up to roughly 10,000 feet. The ride takes about 5 mins. At a certain altitude, we hook up with our tandems and open the doors. The noise level was pretty high as there was no pressurization or sound dampeners on the craft, but once the door was open it was deafening. Brother-in-law and the cameraman were the first out. I didn't really have time or the sensory RAM needed to process him jumping from the craft. He was gone in an instant and before I knew it, I had my toes dangling over the edge and on the count of 3 I was out myself.

The first few seconds were a blur, tumbling ass over tea-kettle through the cool air until I remembered to arch my back so we could control our decent. Trust me, it was the only thing I had to remember, arch my back, and for a few seconds I had forget even that. My brain went from "You can't really be serious about this" to "Holy F-cking Sh-t!!" pretty quickly. Soon enough we flattened out and I got the shoulder tap telling me I could put my arms out and feel the sense of flying. The wind, no, not the wind, the air was rushing past as we picked up speed to roughly 120 mph and terminal velocity. There's no sense of falling other than the rushing air. The distance is so great that you don't feel like you're falling and the air feels like a cool buffer actually trying to keep you up. I would say that people with vertigo would even be able to jump as the ground doesn't rush toward you, it's actually quite serene.

Eventually though, you have to open the canopy and arrest your decent. Our chute opened and we were jerked back into a nice gradual 15-20 mph drop. I was given the chance to steer the chute left and right, then my tandem took over and we did some spirals. The ground approached, he checked the wind and we landed without incident. I noticed that even being the 2nd ones out of the plane, we were the first ones to land. Come to find out, we were heavier and we pulled the chute later. Reason for this, I didn't have to open the chute. The other two were in charge of their own fate and were given a much higher altitude in case something did happen, giving their tandems time to react.




From left to right: Me (green), Chip (yellow), Siobhan (pink).



Mrs. Austin was a trooper through the whole thing. Being pregnant AND corralling a 2 year old AND watching her husband jump from a freakin plane...I wouldn't have been able to contain my bowl shattering nerves. When we were done, and heading for a beer, she STILL couldn't participate. The birth of #2 will be like a 21st birthday for her so you're all invited over to our house for lots of drinking.




Meanwhile, back on the ground...



Yes I will go again, I have to. After 2 more times and a ground class, you can jump solo, but no so low...hehe. Ok, sorry. Anyway, I'd like to go back at least enough times so that I CAN jump alone. I mean, don't get me wrong, jumping at all is amazing. It's the most rebellious thing you can do to mother nature and Einstein and Newton. "Hey, gravity. I realize you have me in your grasp, and I realize that I intentionally leapt from a flying airplane, but you will not win this day because I have 20 yards of silk at my disposal, so ppphhhtt!!"




Cue Top Gun theme song.










5.4.04

Rudeness 101


Well, what a weekend. It had its moments, that's for dang sure.

I'd like to start out by saying that I have no pictures on this version of LIA, but I'm sure some will surface in the coming days.

I'd also like to mention that for the first time since we moved to our new house, Mrs. Austin is pretty happy with our house. With the exception of the kitchen cabinets and maybe the fact that I thumbtack comic artwork up in the computer room, she seems to be nearly at peace with the decor and furnishings of each room; the last piece coming at somewhat of a cost.

The weekend started with the 30th birthday of two friends. One, my brother in law, on April 2nd, the other an ex-coworker on April 3rd. We started the evening at a bar across from the office and proceeded to get really happy until midnight when it was time to wish the 2nd 30th birthday happiness. The next day was spent mowing the Greater Austin Jungle and Wildlife Preserve we have as a backyard. I lost count of how many times the mower died from inching forward into 12-15" high dandelions and morning glories. It's not to say I'm a lazy yard care professional, it's to say I'd rather pull a toenail out with my teeth. Plus, Austin weather times itself to act up during bouts of free time.

When that was done Mrs. Austin got another of her debilitating headaches that require a decent amount of TLC and Rx for her not to go insane, but we had a birthday party to go to. I didn't want her to go, but she said she bought a new outfit and they had come to her party so she was going. I promised not to stay longer than necessary, meaning "We'll leave after the 'Surprise.'" While we're at the party, and it's dark and everyone is quiet, one person who I didn't know sprayed someone else I didn't know with silly string, right in the eye. Accident I'm sure, but the recipient of the blast would not shut up about it. Birthday Boy was on his way in and she kept lippin off about her contact in the loudest possible voice. Hey, lady, it's not your party. Hit the bathroom and shut up will ya?

The next day sent us to the outlet mall to get the finishing piece of furniture for the living room. We went for a chair but got a chaise lounge instead. Yeah, it's kinda pompous, the chaise. It requires a separate purchase of two slaves, a large palm frond fan and a year's supply of grapes.

Anyway, we get to the store, we'll call it Bottery Parn, and find there are no chairs like ours in stock but they have this chaise lounge. Well, there are a couple other people looking at the chaise lounge as well. They're sitting on it, laying on it, looking at it, asking it questions. Mrs. A and I decide we like it and since the price tag is still on it, we grab it and head to the front. While I'm talking to a clerk about what the different prices on the tag are, a guy starts standing next to me listening in and mentions that he'd been looking at that chair but couldn't find anyone to tell him what the tag meant so he didn't pick it up yet. Well, I felt bad for about two seconds, then figured, hey you snooze you lose. I head over to the check out and I can see him shaking his head and leaving the store, apparently a little bent outta shape, so I start feeling a little worse. I figure, if this guy comes back in and says, "I'll give you $50 if you let me buy this chair" I'd let him have it. (It wasn't the one we wanted but from almost $1300 down to $260 I'd have bought a meat grinder.)

But instead, he comes back in and says, "You know, I'd been looking at that chair for about 30 mins trying to find someone to ask about the price tag when you guys took it." To which I said, "Wow dude, that sucks." Then he gets REALLY pissy and storms off saying, "Fine! Keep it!"

Now, two things. It does you no good to get antsy with me when I'm buying something. Until you pay for it, it's not yours. It's not like I stole it from you. We just pulled the trigger faster and now we get to relax in comfort whilst you get to tell your wife (because come on, no guy buys a chaise lounge) that you lost the purchase. And two, who spends 30 minutes looking at one chair? There was only one in there, and it took you 30 minutes to decide? It took us 2 mins to decide, another 2 to ask about the price tag. I'm sorry, but if your brain can't handle decisions faster than an abacus, you don't deserve comfort, you deserve a thorozine milkshake and some bed rest.

For the rest of the day, I'll turn the commentary over to Mrs. Austin.

Thank you Mr. Austin.

After having absconded with the ill-gotten chair, I went to pick up
LMA. It turns out that she'd not been on her best behavior so Chucky
Cheese had to be denied. Instead, I offered to get a movie and dinner
for the family that watched her. We all piled into the car and sped off
to the local grocery store to pick up supplied. As we were standing in
the ice cream aisle (Robert, Schuyler, LMA and myself) the girls decided that an impromptu game of ring-around-the-rosie
was in order. They were cute and a little on the loud side but not in
the house-ape kind of way. Trust me, I'm the LAST person to allow LMA
bad behavior. She doesn't get away with it at home, at a friend's
house, and certainly not in public. I'm not of the mindset that
children should be seen and not heard but I'm a stickler for manners and
can't tolerate much chaotic noise (flashback to me at any family
gathering where I drown out the noise with jack & coke or rum). As we
are trying to figure out which ice cream will have the least amount of
sugar impact on the girls, a woman in her mid-forties walks by and looks
at the girls and then looks at my pregnant belly. She clicks her tongue
at me and says "And to think you are going to have a third. Perfect."
and walks off. It took me a second to figure out that she wasn't being
nice. After I grabbed LMA up in my arms I followed her to the check
out stand and "blessed" her with a dozen children just as wonderful as
mine. She made some comment about never having children like mine and I
walked off. My gallant friend was not so ready to let it go. I didn't
know really what was happening until I walked back down the ice cream
aisle and saw Schuyler standing there pointing at Robert who
was exchanging words with the woman. About five minutes later he walked
back down the aisle and said that we should go as soon as we could. It
turns out that he said some things that she didn't necessarily expect
and she refused to apologize to us. Long story short, she ran from the
store and I'll bet she is careful checking her mail for the next few
weeks.

It's nice to know that there are people out there that still stand up
for other people and sad to know that people think it is alright to take
potshots at pregnant women. Of all the people in the world to be nice
to, I thought pregnant women and children were top of the list. Its
alright though, I'm pretty sure she's not on God's favorite people list
at the moment.







Why would someone poke fun at a woman big enough to sit on them and crush their ribs?




Mommy says that if i eat all my tofu someday I'll be taller than the chair.



30.3.04

I don't think humans were meant to do this.






The Statesman Capitol 10K was last weekend and yes Mr. A strapped on his Sauconies and made a go at it. Mrs. Austin's brother went as well. It was the first race for both of us, the 5k from the previous month having been canceled. There was no cancelling this. The Cap City 10k is the 5th largest 10K in the US, largest in Texas. There were 14,000 people registered.

So the highlights, because frankly it's late and my feet still hurt. We did it in about 100 minutes, it was hard to tell because neither of us had a watch and we started in the very VERY back of the huge throng of run/walkers and older runners and strollers (most of which passed us later) so we didn't cross the start line for about 10 mins.

We ran the frist mile and a half solid, made good time to the half way mark, made up time on the last stretch, died at the end. We didn't run the whole thing, because, well, neither of us were being chased by law enforcement or wild animals. Nor were we, as one support sign read along the way, running "Like we stole something."

To answer some questions: Yes I will run another race, there's a 5k coming up in a few weeks. Yes I hurt something, my right foot has a bruised heel which is funny because I was worried about the other foot prior to this. Mrs. A and LMA showed up at the finished line to snap some shots and get a big sweaty hug. No I didn't pass out afterward, I wasn't that tired. I did have enough energy to have some burgers at a friends house (who also raced) and then go home and paint the bathroom.

You all heard me.

And the color is Lucious Moss.




So some news on the job front for Mr. A. My employment is shifting yet again. I can't give details yet as the final contracts aren't, well, final yet. The short of it is I will be transfered with two other coworkers to a knew company. This company bought the software we build and test so we work for them now. No more working downtown, no more big company in New York calling the shots. No more 5 weeks vacation. It's good to finally have this done because it's been 3 years of not knowing what's going on but being promised some kind of resolution or action or news or something.

Some people didn't make it, some got let go immediately, some got a 3 month stay of execution followed by a severence. No one was surprised, everyone is pretty ok with it. I'm fine, don't ask me. I'm serious, we're fine. Plus I don't have many specifics yet as the ink hasn't even left the pen much less dry on the dotted line. I'll update when it's done.

In the meantime here's a picture of someone who loves to read.






24.3.04

Gratuitous Picture Post #1

I'm sure not the last. I realize I haven't given the familial viewers enough LMA lately.







And if you don't read news papers, or CNN.com or watch TV or have news passed to you by passing oil tankers as you live on your deserted island with a volleyball and some FedEx boxes, here's something to get fired up about. I won't tell you witch way to strike the match, but strike you must. As long as the fire's lit.

I personally would have been in the gallery applauding.

And a follow up to the hot button issue lately.

Giant thumbs up from Casa Austin.

Carry on.


23.3.04

Move along. Nothing to see here.

Seriously.

For the gelatenous few who read our little page, I have very little new to add this week. Really. TV still works, back feels better, Mrs. A's still pregnant (some would say even more so) Little Miss Austin is still little, and at last check, still a Miss. I think the hottest news is I got new running shoes and Mrs. A went to see Willie Nelson with her dad.

I suppose I could pontificate about that lovely experience.

If you are in a relationship with someone you adore more than your own life you tend to do things that to them seem extraordinarily endearing and well intended. You get out of a warm bed to fetch some water, you take off early from work to pick up the kid so they can go out to happy hour, you offer to babysit so they can see a movie or hang out with an old friend or pick up some comics. You do these things because that's your job and you do it gladly. If you didn't, you shouldn't be on the HMS Relation. It's that easy.

So when your wife or husband or partner says something like, "Honey there's been a problem with my concert tickets." You immediately jump into the fold, sword drawn, ready to slay the ticket conglomerate beast even if it takes your own life in the process. You offer to help, you ask, "Ok, what's the problem?"

"Well, I haven't got them yet."

"Yeah, that's a problem. Did you call them?"

"Yes, they're going to hold them at Will Call."

There it is, problem solved. You've shown genuine interest toward an issue that was resolved before you mounted your noble steed.

"Oh, good."

"Well, but there's a problem with that."

And yet the shadow of the threat looms near, always lurking. It's a darkness that never leaves you.

"What's the problem?"

"I used your card to get the tickets, so I have to use your card to pick them up."

Whirling, the knight is incapable of tracking the monster.

"So, take my card. I'll be home with the kid."

"Well they need your ID too, and basically you need to pick up the tickets."

As if the Gabriel himself blew his horn and opened the sky above our hero, the beast falls and crushes the knight with his mighty talloned foot.

"You're kidding. So I have to go all the way out there, with LMA (I don't actually say LMA), pick up the tickets and drive back? That's the best they could do for you after the post office lost the tickets?"

"I'm sorry?"

*sigh* "No, that's ok. We'll hit the comic store on the way back. No big deal."

"Really?"

"Really."

No big deal. I should avoid using words like "No big deal" and "Sure you can borrow that" and "No I don't have plans this weekend" because I always get the short, dirty end of the stick. What neither of us knew was that it wasn't just a trip down and back, I had to park a half o' mile away just like all the other concert goers, hike myself and an nigh 3 year old to general admission, get the tickets, then walk back, then drive home.

Had I known they were going to not give me back my credit card, I wouldn't have stopped for gas.

And the beasts foot twists and turns, grinding our hero's back into the hot, acrid brimestone.

So I had to call Mrs. A at the concert from a payphone, then again at home, to get her to get my card. All in all it wasn't a bad experience, I mean, there have been worse. I think the point is I handle situations poorly. I'm like a little kid whose routine has been disrupted. I get grumpy and pissy and just generally abrasive to be around. I make people promise me favors and gifts and retrun investments for the hardship I'm currently enduring. I make people fear the retribution that will follow. I'm like this if I can't sleep or someone stands me up. I really wish I could deal with it better because I'm sure as a role model, it's not the best trait to have.

So, in the end the concert was great and I got home in time to hear the Avs get their butts kicked. Mrs. Austin promised me a 19" flatpanel monitor for our PC for my troubles, I settled for a few new packs of comic art paper.

...slowly the knight grasps his fallen sword and swings up at the beast, piercing its soft underbelly. The beast recoils in pain. The wounded knight rises and lunges one last time, arm high, sword raised for the killing blow...


Told you I didn't have anything to talk about.




I'm playing with new templates on Blogger, so if you don't see anything over here -->
try stretching your browser a bit, it's just down below but the frames don't like it.
I know, I know, giant pain in the ass, but if you're a current reader,
you won't need the archives anyway, right? Maybe someday I'll host the whole thing myself
and there will be no more ads, and I can post pictures of naked hedgehogs with swastika tattoos.

Ah the dream.

15.3.04

Hellboy Screening Review

Good morning true believers. It's 8am, Monday the 15th. I'm working on 4 hours sleep. Last night was an exclusive screening of the new Hellboy movie directed by Guillermo Del Toro and starring Ron Perlman. Hellboy was created by Mike Mignola.

To start, if you can help it, try not to see a movie at The Paramount. On second thought, in light of the fact that my leg is still twitching from cramping all night, don't do anything there. I'm only 5'8" and I had a hard time being anything within the same zip code of comfortable.

But this is not why you're here. You're here to hear about the movie. I will warn you there are spoilers ahead so read at your own risk. I choose not to hide in special highlightable text the spoilers so just click to another page if you'd rather wait until the release of the film.

This film got it right.

Not only was it a good adaptation, but as a film it was far better than most, if not all comic book movies that have been made. It's simpler, more solid and more charismatic. Perlman is fantastic as Hellboy, and confirming what some other sites have said, he wasn't the studio's first choice, but he was Del Toro's first choice. And after seeing the movie, it was the right choice and the best choice. There's no one else that could have played Hellboy, no one, and been as convincing, as quirky, as uncomplicated.

Where other films of the genre tried to force back story down your neck, or gum the story up with fancy camera shots, Hellboy keeps it as focused as possible. There's mercifully few Bond/Arnold one liners that have plagued action movies. The reason more than likely is because of Mike Mignola's fantastic story telling in the original books. Again, it's simple. It proves its point, shows its hand and moves on. It doesn't dwell on why so much and that was a relief. Non-readers will appreciate that this is a story that could stand alone without the book. Fans will appreciate that it took as few liberties as possible.

John Hurt as Professor Bruttenholm was very solid and stoic in his role. David Hyde Pierce and Doug Jones as Abe Sapien were perfect and stole the show. Most of the cast did their jobs so well, and fit so well into the roles, there's nothing to say about them. Again, it worked well enough that your brain just couldn't pick up on things that were wrong or right or even out of place.

My first of two complaints comes from Selma Blair. While she wasn't horrible, there was flatness in her introduction as Liz Sherman that made one believe her role was unimportant and left a bad taste in your mouth the rest of the film. It felt like she was a beacon for Hellboy or a muse rather than the integral part in the story that was seen later. Now, granted we first see her in a mental hospital, but the glaze in her eyes was more than just thorazine. She picked it up a notch as things moved along, but her dreariness didn’t seem like a characterization, she almost seemed bored at times.

The second gripe had nothing to do with the movie, but skewed my perception of the entire evening. The sound at the Paramount is awful for movies. It's built for amplifying sound for stage actors and blasting 110 decibels of movie explosions into that atmosphere and you've lost a lot of dialogue. This aside, there were times when Perlman or Hurt were talking and I had no idea what was said. Karel Roden as Rasputin was only slightly less difficult to understand. I know I missed some important dialogue and some funny lines. My hope is in the theater it isn't so overpowering.

Something else that was refreshing was the fact that even though the sound was a problem, the visuals were not. I could follow the action in its entirety and the CG was as seamless as it gets. When the rest of the world is based on a comic book, CGI tends to work better, but even with that given, the badies and effects were tight. Rick Baker's makeup also deserves mention. Abe and Hellboy were amazing. But to go back a few lines, the action was easy to see this time. I'm glad we've strayed away from the Aliens era camera and editing work that "suggested" action and fast motion and are now actually showing it. I never had to think to myself, "What the heck is going on. Who is that guy? Where are they? Oh wait, didn't he get killed already?"

For you parents out there, I'd suggest Clifford's Big Adventure. Yes this is a comic book, but it's pretty violent. There's no gore and honestly not a lot of blood, but we're talking about a demon with a gun. Don't take your kid to this and then get all bent out of shape because your vision of comic books is Archie. This is a good movie and a good story. It's rated PG - 13 and that's honestly a pretty good call. The violence is mainly between fantasy characters, but it still hits hard and moves fast with a lot of growling and shouting. The most blood we see is on the face of Jonh Myers (Rupert Evans) and even that's superficial.

The ending I'll say is predictable because there isn't really any other way to tell it. I'm sure if there was they would have. I knew that when you had a giant monster and a hand full of grenades, and you've directed MIB II, there's going to be some blue blood. Also, before you come away thinking it was Del Toro's vision that brought in so many Lovecraft references, I would suggest reading a few Hellboy trades. Mignola is steeped in symbolism. So all those giant tentacles are not there for the sake of the film, they are there for the sake of the story.

For those who stuck around through that to hear about the rest of the experience, let me say this. I'm not a movie critic, or an active screener or reviewer. I don't see too many movies and I haven't read all that much Hellboy to even know if this was close to the story or not. The facts I knew were not toyed with so that made me happy. After standing in line for 2 hours we were packed into a venue that seats 1200 people. The movie itself was a digital projection (that's how early the screening was, it apparently isn't on film yet) and held up well.

There was a short Q&A afterward where we found out that not only was this the first time Mignola and Perlman had seen the film in its entirety, but the studio hadn't even seen it yet. I felt a little honored to hear that Austin, the fans, the film society and all us schleps that waited in the rain for passes, were the first (by weeks) to see the final version.

Yes there was a bat flying around in the theater. Its poor ears probably bleeding from 1200 voices in an acoustically perfect environment. For those looking for pictures, the best I have are some sketches from my comic book friends (up soon.) The threat of not allowing any cameras or camera phones into the theater, or rather if you had one you wouldn't be let in, had most of us making mad dashes for our cars to put backpacks and accessories away. Well that included my Hellboy trade paperback. Had I hung on to that, it would have had a Del Toro, Perlman, Mignola autograph trifecta. Someone said, "You have paper, go have them sign that." It was my sketch pad. "S'cuse me, Mr. Mignola? Could you sign my sketch of Hellboy?"

So no signatures, no photos of the festivities, a cramped, twitchy leg and it was 3 in the morning. Thank god the movie was good.

12.3.04

A bird in hand is better than two next to Bush, unless you're a gay bird.





(Note, this is the 2nd attempt at this update so some of the wind was removed from my sales by a 2 hour wait in line to get free passes to a free screening of the Hellboy movie. More on that later)

It's now official. The judges and local politicians have been scared "straight" by the GOP. In a couple years it will be unconstitutional to love who you want, live with who you want and will your worldly possessions to who you want.

I tire of this fight. I'm tired of it because I'm sick of hearing how religion is playing such a big part of law making. I'm tired because I just can't see the other side on this one, I just can't. I tried. I tried reaching back into my catholic alter-boy days, searching for a bit of compassion for those of the faith and how they view life. What I came up with was anger. Anger and pity.

You cannot govern with religion. You cannot. There is a separation of Church (aka the Bible) and State (aka the government) and you shall not use your faith to make laws to control the masses. I'll give you the use of religion as a guideline to morally correct laws, but you must look at the reality as well. The reality of this is there are thousands of law abiding citizens who pay taxes and have jobs and contribute to society who are considered less of a human being in the eyes of the government because of the religious undertones that are swallowing the White House.

How can you look at a fellow human being, look them dead in the eye, reading all the 40 hour weeks, lost wages, childhood traumas, car repairs, Christmas parties and sleepless nights and say that they aren't just as human as you are. By passing laws like this, laws and city ordinances and amendments, you are classifying another human as a lesser entity.

You in the 1920's attacked women who wanted to vote.

You in the 1860's enslaved a race and hung them if they tried to escape.

You in the 1600's beheaded, tortured and persecuted people for believing in a different way of life.

You 2000 years ago crucified a messiah.

Brings it home, doesn't it.

The faithful and strong are bad guys. They've always been bad guys. They get power and they use it for their agenda instead of trying to see what's good for the people. There is no democracy. There isn't in this country or any other country. But making a stand like this, that classifies another human by a 2000 year old tome, turns us from a free republic into Canada's red necked stepsister. Hey, I'm all for hockey, but this shit's gotta stop.

And it's over such a small piece of this book, this Bible. (In case you're wondering, it's Genesis 19:4-11, Leviticus 18:22/20:13, Deuteronomy 23:17-18, Romans 1:26-27, I Corinthians 6:9, & I Timothy 1:10.) And it doesn't even say "homosexual." That was a term introduced in 1946 in the umpteenth revision known as the King James bible. There is no Hebrew word for what the US is threatening to ban. And there is no word for my level of confusion towards those who would seek it.

At this point I want to site what else the Good Book has to say about things that we're doing now with no repercussions, but I'll let a fictional president to it instead.


Bartlet: Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I'm interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She's a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be? While thinking about that, can I ask another? My chief of staff, Leo McGarry, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or is it okay to call the police? Here's one that's really important because we've got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean. Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side-by-side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? Think about those questions, would you? One last thing, while you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the Ignorant Tight-Ass Club, in this building, when the President stands, nobody sits.


I have friends who are gay, and I have friends who believe in and live by the Bible. But I also have pagan friends, black friends, jewish friends, guy friends, girl friends, artist friends and friends who I've never met face to face. In all these cases I chose to ignore everything but the simple fact that they are human beings, no more, no less. There are so many reasons to dislike a person based on how they act and what they say. If you chose to dispise and degrate a group based on the preachings of a book written 58 years ago based on stories told 1800 years ago about a group of people who lived 2004 years ago in a country 13,000 miles away that doesn't even resemble anything of what it was today, well then frankly Jed, I don't even know who you are.




Yeah, cuz these people are more threatening than bombs on commuter trains.

10.3.04

Yes, I saw the check.

For those who know I'm an Avs fan, I'll answer your questions as best I can.

  • Yes I saw the hit. The game wasn't televised, but there were cameras on hand to capture the event. Within hours, minutes probably, the entire slow motion sequence was put on the Net. I spent the better part of the afternoon watching and reading about it.

  • No I don't think this is as big a deal as it could be. There have been worse hits that have received less attention. What I think is the major sticking point is the fact that Bertuzzi mentioned something about "...that punk won't be in their roster in march." Hence, the criminal investigation.

  • The other thing is, this is hockey. This kind of meltdown happens once a year and each time the media starts asking questions. Is the sport too barbaric? Why are they still allowing fighting in hockey? A writer for the Denver Post said that until fighting was removed, the intellectuals would still think of hockey as that 4th major sport in N. America, played by toothless canadians beating each other up.

  • No I don't think ill of the guy. He let his emotions get the best of him and he'll pay the price. There was an offhand comment on Fark about not letting Bertuzzi play until Moore can play again. Last word, the young defenseman was still in a Canadian hospital awaiting a move to Denver. I think that's fair, and if Moore never plays, Bertuzzi never plays.

  • If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out.






  • You know, I think I've been here before.


    Yes it's that time of year again, when the family from Austin buys their season pass to Sea World. We were pretty lucky this time as it was the first weekend and it was neither hot nor crowded. For a family with a pregnant mom and a dad with a thrown back, it was a blessing. (Wha? Back?) Yeah, I'll get to that. And it's the same Sea World I remember from, oh, last year. It's great that LMA and Mrs. A love it so much. They can't get enough of it. And frankly, to them, to feed a dolphin is worth the price of admission. I could use a few more roller coasters and some free time to play video games, cuz a man can only look at fish for so long. I guess that's why they have the Beer School. (mmm, beerilicious)













    So how did you throw your back out Mr. A? Well I'm glad you asked. Mrs. A had a bad BAD headache the other day and was out for the count for half the weekend. The other half she spent in a worn out, post medicated haze, which is normal usually after these bouts with one exception; we were at Best Buy.





    Yeah, that's what I said. True it matters little, our acquisition of things and stuff. Yes I believe he who dies with the most things is just dead. I also believe that High Definition is better than regular TV. So all you minimalists and academics can get bent, right?

    Anyway, the point of the story, and a word to the wise, is that the first purchase involved a non-widescreen HDTV. What this means is let's say you have a 27" tube TV. You guy buy a 32" HDTV thinking "Heck yeah, buddy. Got me some MAD screen size, yo!" Well yo would be incorrect. Had I done some due diligence, I would have realized that an HDTV will not show a screen like a normal TV, so if you get a HD cable box or converter to go with it, what happens is you end up with a viewing area of 22 inches. So while the silver casing and flat screen were nice, they weren't the bliss I had anticipated. Back to the store it went. But not before stupid Mr. A decides to be macho and throw his back out lifting the thing by himself to get it back into the box.

    Gah!

    Got a new one, a widescreen this time, and got it home and set up without incident. We had to get a new thing to put it on, and in the process we can't get the VCR to work and there's no closed captioning for TV, but there is for DVDs, but the picture is amazing dammit! *sigh* With all that doesn't work and a wounded lumbar to boot, it brings up the saying, "This is why we can't have nice things."




    The 76th Annual Zilker Park Kite Festival was this last weekend and Lil Miss Austin and daddy made the trek together on this one. This would be our first forray into the wild without mommy on an adventure that was more than getting coffee and donuts to bring back home. To be honest, I was a little worried. I mean, I think I'm a good dad, but I also think The Force is real. I can be considered absent minded and forgetful, so the notion of spending more than 2 hours in a crowd of several thousand people had me a little anxious. Would I lose her in the mob? Would she get trampled in a mad dash for a free t-shirt that was flung from a mascot driven 4x4? Would she take a bad hop on the moon bounce and snap a little femur? Not to mention the fact that we had to walk 10 minutes down a street with no sidewalk to get there. I was a wreck.

    That was, until we got there. There's something about LMA when you're one on one with her, a sort of serenity, that she doesn't exhibit when around groups or even just the three of us. While we were out there she was calm, non-combative and kind of cool to have around. We waited in a long line for roasted corn and she passed the time drawing in the dirt. We sat in our portable chairs and drank juice and soda and water and just chilled out. Got a face painting, saw a puppet show, then went home. I mean, it was cool, but in a way that I can't really describe. It's like finding out your parents are cool or a coworker you thought was a jerk is cool. LMA isn't a jerk or anything, but it's a realization that opens the door between the Day to Day Care Room and the Fun Deck. I had a great time, and I think she did too.










    Some Random Pictures