thursday morning, the lady friend dropped pat and i off at the airport.
we had two layovers on the way to austin, one in Philly the next in Charlotte, then we are on the ground in austin picking up the rental car.
let me tell you about our rental car. it was a dodge charger with some sort of muscle engine SVT mumbo jumbo...basically, the car made me feel inadequate. it was this striking blue color and had a contour to it that reminded us of a penile vein....thus, the car was titled BVT (blue vein throbber). it was even more gratifying to find out that the previous driver had pumped the bass all the way to 11 and it was dialed to hip hop. so we rolled with it. i think we blared paper boy's "ditty" while driving off the lot.
( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROVkXEBeQWE )
there are many things i think about when i am back in texas. one of the major thoughts is food. our first destination was Habana's on south congress. we also sat outside. and we ordered numerous mojitos. t-bag arrived and we dined and drank and talked. it was great.
from there we made a quick trip to t-bag's to drop off her car and out luggage then off to the Troubadour for some live music and drinks.
if you know me now, you know that i drink bourbon 99% of the time. i started drinking bourbon shortly before i split from dallas where it was typically maker's mark. now, i prefer woodford's reserve or basil hayden's or baker's. for some odd reason, maker's just doesn't taste as smooth to me anymore. i feel like i should be drinking it from a dixie cup or something, don't know why.
at Troubadour, they only had maker's. the oddest thing was that it tasted wonderful. it was the best glass of makers i have ever had. i think it is just for the simple fact that i was home. i was energized just by being back in my state, by being is a place where people were wearing shorts and tee's and moving about the city and there were many people, many ethnicity's...just many of everything.
and you could look at people and actually see the, not some michelin man-sized androgynous body.
the maker's tasted so good i had many.
when i shared this story, there was a laugh, but i don't feel that it was a laugh "with" me.
anyway, we wrapped up our drinks then headed back to the casa.
FRIDAY, 01.23
first and foremost, coffee. t-bag had already left for work, so it was pat and i in the BVT cruising town. we grabbed some coffee then headed down to south congress to look for a new wallet for myself. we hopped around a bit hitting up different shops then found ourselves at Freebird's. we scarfed down a few burritos then walked back to BVT.
we headed back to the casa to let the food settle before going for a run. it was great to be able to run outside and with no shirt on. it was also nice that the start of our run was along a river, then we turned off and ran straight up to the capital building, then back to the river, then back home.
friday evening, we had plans for BBQ. after t-bag had returned home and settled in, we hopped in BVT and headed for Lockhart,TX. we stumbled into Black Barbecue and were immediately in awe. the smell was amazing and so was the salad bar. i know i am home when the salad bar consists of jalapeños, banana pudding and romaine hearts with fake bacon bits and either italian dressing or ranch, nothing more. after the salad bar were the pies, then the sides. fried okra, baked beans, creamed corn, mac & cheese. the the stars of the evening, homemade sausage, brisket and spare ribs. you know you have a good rack of ribs when just by picking it up, the meat falls to the plate.
i just spent a few minutes writing, then deleting, then writing again, then deleting, trying to describe the meat we ate that evening. nothing i wrote seemed to do it any justice.
after stuffing our faces on barbecue, we returned to austin and to t-bag's pad. from there, we didn't move until a little after midnight, at which point pat and i ran down the street to a neighborhood bar and killed a few drinks. just something to settle the belly, then back home and to bed.
SATURDAY 01.24.09
my parents drove into austin late friday night. they live in beaumont, which is about 4:30 hours east of austin near the louisiana border. since it is rare that i am in texas and since i am an only child, they decided to make a weekend of austin to see me and get away from the sphincter of texas, known as my hometown beaumont.
so t-bag, pat, BVT (yes, BVT is personified and will be for the duration of this post) and i headed to Habanero's to meet up with my parents, pat's cousin willie and leslie and her husband and her new baby.
lunch was great. leslie's baby was adorable. i talked my parent's ears off to the point where they had little chance to respond. oh, and i had the carnitas. nothing like lightly fried pork chunks. f-ing tasty!
from lunch willie, leslie and her crew parted ways. the remainder of us trekked back to south congress for coffee and boots. i picked up a new pair of luccheses. i think my twang upped itself a notch just by putting the boots on.
off to waterloo records, grabbed a few new cds then to REI then to book peoples. then it was time for dinner and we trekked over to hoover's for some comfort food.
i had a green chile burger with roasted poblano peppers and cheese. it was like the smoked the entire burger. it tasty amazing. even the queso tasted as if it were smoked. everything was great.
my parents returned to the hotel and t-bag, pat BVT and i decided to go straight to the bars so we would not get sucked into nursing our full bellies on the couch.
when we crossed the street to get to the outdoor patio area the band was just wrapping up their cover of GNR's welcome to the jungle. just by hearing the squealing vocals i had a vision of what the crowd would be like. mid-thirties, overly plush leatherette couches with the built-in recliner and hidden remote storage, maybe a mullet or 20 and white sneakers (hi-tops if really lucky) and tapered leg jeans.
i was dead wrong...it was even better. think mid-forties, to late fifties, higher socio-economic status (still has the same couch, but probably in real leather), no mullets (at least none that i spied) and expensive jeans all around. my favorite character was a guy in slacks, hounds-tooth/checkered sport jacket with slightly too large shoulder pads, greased back thinning bland hair and a stair that either said "shut up before i try and punch you" to a male, or "i would probably date rape you if you weren't here with your friends" to a female. my favorite quote of his for the evening was when he addressed an equally as scary guy walking out of the bathroom. the guy was slightly young and had a slightly larger forehead, enough to where i considered the possibility of mental retardation (hey, they need to get their drink on too). should pad guy gave retard guy a hi-five and said "hawk, we need a drink". hawk is by far the toughest name i have ever heard. i thought it was a name only used in fiction, but i am dead wrong. it immediately brought the image of a camaro's hood to mind, and i shuddered from the intimidation. these were the guys that would kind of bounce at their knees (think of a happy baby bouncing up and down) and shift their weight from side to side as a form of dance...throw rhythm out the window of course.
the groupies assembled at center stage was probably the largest congregation of menopaus-ing women i have ever encountered. and they cam across as being all divorced...and desperate for a man's touch...no, a touch from one of the band members. they were the type of women that would blush when the singer or guitarist would wink at them while stroking his mic stand/guitar neck like a cock. they would also sing back the words and tilt back their heads with the same imitated vocal strain the singer would display while belting out journey hits.
the band was the creme de la creme.
the lead singer was a slightly fatter in the face version of rod stuart with frosted tips. he had the raspy voice as well. my favorite quote of his: "it ain't sunday till i've had sex for breakfast". hot damn, i will never be that cool. i think i have a man-crush now.
the rhythm guitarist was probably the youngest of the group, not over 40. and he felt the music. it showed in every strained stretch of his face and neck. he knew just how far to hold his mouth away from the mic to give it that powerful yet distant accompanying vocal.
the rest of the band members were obvious posers. sorry guys, you didn't leave a lasting memory, but you didn't look out of place, must have been a poser.
posers or not, rod or not, the band rocked it! and i mean that sincerely. i have never seen so much fruitless vag sway and bob for so long.
the band rocked so much, they made pat cream his pants. i have known pat for 26 years, i have seen him happy, i have seen him joyous, i have seen him ecstatic, but nothing in the past 24 years prepared me for his creamed-panties spontaneous reaction when the band said they were about to launch in to a few bon jovi hits. his hand thrust up so hard and fast he feet left the ground and his body was propelled forward. the inverse reaction happened with his jaw. his mouth shot open and a squeal of pure, uninhibited, carnal excitement belched out! I DO NOT LIE! it was a scene that i will never forget because it shocked me so.
we were all so enthralled by the band we found our perch above the stage so we could feel like the crowd was screaming for us...AND WE FUCKING ROCKED OUT!!!!!!!
we closed down the bar then headed home.
SUNDAY 01.25.09
it was a sad day. it was the day we left austin.
we grabbed breakfast with my rents, bought a new t-shirt then headed back to t-bag's. then it was just glum. pat and i swapped music, grabbed some coffee and packed. we headed to the airport around 3. pat dropped me off since his flight left later. we gave a hug and said our good byes.
the next thing i know i am in portland, my ass is freezing again and i miss texas.
it was nice to be home and see the lady friend. it was nice to see bertie.
