I went biking after work on Wednesday in an effort to whip myself back into shape. It's been a while since I've ridden the ol' bikes on a consistent basis and I figure I am all out of excuses (rain, cold, work, band, lazy) so I was determined to get a lap or two in at the lake.

The first lap was great. I hauled ass and went faster than I normally do. Since the sun was still kind of up, I thought I could get one more lap in before it set entirely, so kept riding. About twenty minutes into the second lap, something strange happened. Well, it I wasn't so strange because I experienced the same thing a couple summers ago when I was an intern here, but I didn't expect the same thing to happen since it's not really summer yet.

What happened was this: swarms of tiny airborn bugs descended on the lake. It was like the Ten Plagues. Determined to drive me away from their feeding grounds, they bombarded me with their presence. They made noise as they hit my helmet and glasses and bike. They were too small to see with the fading light, but as soon as the sun was completely down and my bike light was the only thing illuminating the bike path, I could see them streaking past in the night. I had to duck my head as I rode to keep from eating or snorting them. It was hilarious. One of them got caught in my ear. That wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Today, I went for a ride in the beautiful 75 degree three o'clock air with The Evil I. After he complained of nausea and impending hurlage and headed home, I kept riding for another lap. Somewhere along the way I found myself in a strong head wind. While I was huffing and puffing up a hill, a bug much larger than the tiny insects from the other evening set itself on a direct crash course with my mouth and quickly got lodged in my throat.

It happened so fast I hardly had time to come to terms with the fact that I had just eaten a bug. Thankfully, he didn't go all the way down, but had just gotten caught in the back of my throat, so I hocked him right back out. Bastard. I'll show you. Then I vigorously rinsed my mouth with water, cursed at nature, admired the pretty trees, and rode on.

One of my friends had two extra tickets to a Jimmy Buffet concert last night so I called Evil I and drove out to Frisco, TX to meet up with her and her boyfriend. Just so you know, Frisco is the closest I have ever been to Oklahoma without flying over it. I found that rather fascinating for some reason.

She mentioned to me that they were hanging out in their friend's RV in a huge parking lot full of other RVs. I didn't know what to expect. It was a little bit like a Grateful Dead concert experience, or at least what I imagine what one would have been like. And it was also a little bit like your average concert experience, except the fans were a lot older and wearing goofy Hawaiian shirts. Such is apparently the dress code at a Jimmy Buffet concert.

Evil I and I made the trek from our parking space to the stadium and along the way passed through a grassy field temporarily modified into a RV/SUV/whatever you're driving party extravaganza. We passed one guy who said, with a very thick Texas accent, "I pulled that sucker right off and painted it myself," referring to the silver Chevy emblem on the grill of his Chevy truck. At that moment, I could have gone home happy and content. Mission accomplished. I had experienced something unique and entertaining. Regardless, we pressed on for the stadium, which was actually a soccer field for Dallas' soccer team.

Once in line, Evil I and I were treated with more walking comedy: a roaming bachelor party. Who knows where these guys had started their weekend, but as for now, they were all wearing custom-made yellow shirts with various lewd and quirky proclamations. Each guy apparently had his nickname emblazoned on the back of his shirt. One guy called himself "The Canadian Schlonghorn." Again, I could have gone home happy at that point. But we pressed on.

We finally met up with my friend and her boyfriend and entered the stadium. We were greeted with a massive throng of aging hippies and bored executives trying to let loose. It was quite a sight. While walking to our seats, a mid-40s woman and her friend (both drunk) offered Evil I and I a piece of their pink cotton candy. This is not a euphemism. They asserted that pink cotton candy was the better kind. I'm sure.

Once in our seats, we were able to enjoy the Jimmy Buffet concert experience. Basically, imagine sitting on a beach and listening to lazy songs about drinking, sitting, and screwing. Except that we were sitting in plastic seats with 20,000 other people, and there was no beach, which really made me want to take a vacation to a beach. So at that moment, my friend said we should pick a weekend in June and all go to Cancun or something. Sounds good to me. I need a vacation.

My favorite part of the show is that Jimmy Buffet has managed to find what may be the perfect career. He flies around the world filming himself having a good time in various far-off places. He spends a few months out of the year touring and showing videos of these vacations on massive screens at concerts while he stands around and sings a few songs to a bunch of drunk and/or stoned suburbanites. I obviously need to reevaluate my career choice.

After the concert, the four of us went to my friend's friend's RV and hung out and walked around the parking lot. People have apparently driven from all over the Southern US to Frisco for this concert. We saw a Tennessee license plate. People set up party pads next to their RV complete with imported sand to simulate a beach, beach chairs, kiddie pool, PA system playing laid-back tunes, a makeshift bar, mannequin pirate things, so on and so forth. One person built an actual pirate ship on a full length trailer. I'll wait for Evil I to upload the picture. It was impressive.

All in all, it was an unforgettable experience. And fun. I can check off that line item now. I've seen Jimmy Buffet and experienced the Jimmy Buffet concert experience. Even if you don't want to go to a Jimmy Buffet concert, you should take a trip the nearest parking lot or four adjacent to the stadium where Jimmy is platying. It's a free show of drunken hilarity. And you might see a pirate ship on wheels.

I have three options where I could go on my next vacation:

1. Sevilla, Spain, to hang out with my friend and her boyfriend.
2. London, with the singer in my band, to hang out with our friend and all the fun random people she's met by the time we get there.
3. Akumal, Mexico, just south of Cancun, to hang out with some college buddies and their friends and go snorkeling and sit on the beach for a week and drink.

What do you think? I went to Mexico last summer. I was in London for three days in 2001. I was in Sevilla for one day in 2003. Cast your vote.

My sister and her family moved into a new house this past weekend. Being the dutiful brother, I drove to Austin to help with the move. Thankfully, they hired movers to do most of the heavy lifting, allowing me to avoid permanently injuring myself trying to move things that require actual strength. The cool part is that one of the movers' names was Devo. As in, the band. How cool is that? Way cool.

Less cool is having to be asked, "Like, the band?" for your entire life.

All the necessary food groups in one convenient, tasty package. Cheese: protein. Crackers: carbs. Wine: alcohol.

I've been on an 80's music binge lately. Tears For Fears, The Smithereens, and XTC. I've decided that Mad World, Blood and Roses, and Making Plans For Nigel are each pop perfections in their own way. One spooky, one rocking, one goofy. Blood and Roses seems like three and a half minutes of songwriting perfection. The pieces of that song fit together so well.

Since I don't like Microsoft, and I don't want to pay stupid sums of money for Office, I downloaded OpenOffice, free of charge, from their webite and have been running it for about six months. I'm happy to report it doesn't suck. It's actually pretty good, especially considering how much I paid for it. No, it's not a flashy as Office 2007, or even Office 2003, but it gets the job done. Its version of Excel handles formulas just the same as Microsoft's version, and the documents are all cross-compatible. Just be sure you save your "Word" doc as .doc so Microsoft can open it on someone else's computer.

In other news, I'm buying a plane ticket to NYC to my friend over the July 4th weekend. I'm psyched. I'm also pondering a trip to London or Israel, depending entirely on scheduling and flight prices. What was once an $1100 ticket to Israel is now $1700. Bummer. Even England is over a grand now. I remember when flights to London could be had for under $500, and I'm not talking about the "Go to London for Three Days, Starting Tomorrow" deals.

Happy St. Patrick's day. My blog automatically qualifies as St. Paddy's day-friendly because it has green on it. All of the time. Every day. This was not planned.

I spent yesterday at the Greenville (no pun intended) Parade. Greenville is a street that runs north-south through Dallas. The city closes off a mile or so of Greenville every St. Patrick's day Saturday and holds a parade. There is also a concert. This year, Ghostland Observatory was the main act. I bought two tickets a few weeks but thereafter decided not to go. I just didn't feel like it. But my band's guitar player had also bought a ticket, and I really needed the fresh air, so I invited my singer and the three of us had band-bonding-day out in the sun.

Off we went traipsing through a sea of drunk green-clad partiers. The three of us were completely sober the whole time, so we got to laugh at all the drunkies falling all over the place. For some reason, there is something about me that compels strangers to ask me for directions, or advice, or guidance, on what the hell they should do and where they should be going. I'm certainly happy to oblige, but I get the feeling I'm always the guy people ask, "Hey, is this the right way to __________?"

The concert was good and we were all sufficiently sunburned. Especially me. It's mostly my face. When I wrinkle my forehead, it hurts. When I smile, it hurts. It's not pleasant.

I ended the night drinking Guinness with Evil I. I couldn't go through St. Paddy's day without having at least one pint of Guinness, so I figured three was a nice round number. Evil I and I talked about tables, music, engineering, lawyering, paint, traveling, sinks, and home-ownership. You shoulda been there.

Now that St. Paddy's is over, I don't want to see another green shirt for the rest of my life. Please. No more green. Anything that is green kind of annoys me now. The little Skype icon in my computer's tray is green. It annoys me. The forward and back buttons in Firefox are green. They annoy me. My website is kinda green. It annoys me. I think I just OD'd on green. Give me some time. I'll get over it.

WTF
My mother is on
facebook and we are friends now.
I think its wierd.