Urinal Rules Apply

Guys, you wouldn't stand right next to someone at a wall full of empty urinals would you? I didn't think so.

I am working during my six hour lay over in Newark's cavernous President's Club, the one by security not the one above McDonald's. Here I sit being productive until some schmuck sits down right next to me to make a phone call. It wouldn't be a big deal if there weren't 27 vacant cubes with phones in this general vicinity. That's not to mention the other mostly vacant cube farm in the other part of the club.

He didn't even leave the customary empty seat between us. I'm pretty sure he rinsed with Tar & Nicotine mouthwash and topped it off with Eau d'Old Fart.

"We got a limo to drive us to the airport. I need to drive classy."

"The husband got a job? I didn't know she was married. That's amazing."

"Give my love to her...and them, too. Tell them I'm going to see Ted."

"I'll call you later tonight."

That's sweet, bub. Next time use a phone that's far enough away so that your neighbors can't hear the cat using the litter box on the other end of the line.


Bob @ Gruene

Bob @ Gruene
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.
I'd never been to a show at Gruene Hall, Texas live music venue of near mythic reputation, until last Saturday when live music maven, KEB, and I set out into the humid darkness at warp speed from downtown Austin to catch Bob Schneider.

Gruene Hall and its surroundings live up to the hype with loads of charm hearkening back to those days of yesteryear. The plumbing, air conditioner and stage lights may not have existed way back when, but everything else seems like it's been frozen in time.

Freshly paroled from the Dixie Chicks tour, Bob is continuing to support his latest release, The Californian. Bob's supporting cast has shifted a bit. Bruce Hughes still anchors the line-up on bass, but has been joined in the rhythm section by Ben Harper's lost twin. Further, Billy has been replaced on lead guitar by an Orlando Bloom doppelganger. Despite the new faces, the band was tight cranking out the new tunes and Bob standards with precision.

Props to the sound engineer for getting the acoustics to balance in that ramshackle palace. And shame on you pretty boys for drinking Michelob Ultra at a place like this. It's Pearl or Lone Star all the way, jerkies.

In short, the night kicked ass. As Tony Bennett might say, " Great show. Great venue. Great company. Everything was just great, great, great."


Maybe It Was the Teacher?

Dog's driving lesson ends in crash
"A woman in Hohhot, the capital of north China's Inner Mongolia region, crashed her car while giving her dog a driving lesson, the official Xinhua News Agency reported Monday."

I'm not an expert behind the wheel unless you need a getaway driver. I have a horrible driving record for real life situations that includes failure to stop for red lights and the ability to get speeding tickets in Pecos County where the speed limit is 80 MPH.

But, Asian ladies should not give driving lessons to dogs even if it's Benji behind the wheel of Herbie, the Love Bug. Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure, I am perpetuating a stereotype, but so was the Korean lady I watched flip her car over in the LSU Wendy's drive-thru in the Spring of 1996.


Best Tots In Town

Tot In Sauce
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.
Waterloo Ice House features a robust sandwich menu ranging from healthy chicken breast variety to cheesy burgers. The negative space in the wax paper covered pie tin plate is stuffed with you choice of french fries or tater tots.

Make Napoleon proud and go for the tots.


Off We Go Into the Wild Blue Yonder

To quote Roger Murtaugh, Danny Glover's character in Lethal Weapon, "I'm getting too old for this shit."

I'm lounging in Austin-Bergstrom's President's Club after having arrived, without any toiletries and assorted gels, two hours in advance of my flight to Reagan National via Houston. I should be
working right now, but my few minutes of exposure had rendered me ready to rant and in need of a cocktail.

My nerves are already smoldering from the tourons running around in the airport. Teenagers abound wearing their fucking cargo pants with 16 pockets in which a myriad of miscellaneous shit is stashed. Only eight of the pockets have been emptied prior to their first attempt at the metal detector. Pockets are emptied one at a time resulting in an awkward, three-way two step between the shoeless knucklehead, the metal detector and the TSA agent until all mysterious items have been located. Just behind the kids were three Asian ladies who packed the equivalent of a Wal-Mart inventory in their carry-on bags. At least they have a valid excuse in that they don't speak any English except for the sundry pleasantries. My obnoxious compatriots in the P.C. have no such crutch.

Airline club patrons, in the U.S. anyway, typically consist of two breeds of traveler: corporate travelers and vacation travelers who gain entry via an overseas ticket or voucher. The vacation travelers are usually low profile, unless kids are on the trip, probably due to a fear of pissing of some Scotch swilling jerk with a blue tooth headset crammed in his ear. Corporate travellers are loud, gregarious and annoying. They know their way around the airport, hotels and car rental joints. But that does not give them carte blanche to yell into their phones via speakerphone, crank up their CD/DVD/IM audio on their laptop or boss around the airport staff like cabana boys.

I am embarrassed to be a corporate traveler on days like today.

I fit the mold of the corporate traveler in that I know may way around most airports of import and maintain the upper level of frequent traveler status at a couple of airlines and hotel chains. I hope that's where the similarities stop. All I ask is that you, my fellow traveler, no matter the sort, think about what you need to do at the security checkpoint before you get to the metal detector, if not before you leave the house, and that you exercise courtesy in your airport operations. Use headphones and don't yell into your cell phone or use the speakerphone. And, take the damned blue tooth headset out of your ear when you aren't using it if you don't want to
look stupid.

My friend, Garland, would say, "So young. So angry."

So what!

I may need an anger management class.


Ten Things That You Should Know Right Now

10. If procrastination were an Olympic sport, I would have won a gold medal in both the Summer and Winter games during each Olympiad since 1980.
9. You should rent Brick and watch it twice.
8. I just realized that I am flying from Milan to Newark on September 10th and that freaks me out a bit.
7. "Isn't ironic, dontcha think," that drinking coffee has a calming effect on me during stressful periods at work?
6. I'm getting close to buying a house, but then again, I'm getting close to moving to Chicago or New York.
5. I signed my second marriage license in the state of Texas on Sunday; my reverending career continues.
4. The Heater is on her last few laps around the neighborhood. I'm pissed and sad. Who wants another car payment? Who wants to deal with car shopping? I would start riding a horse if I thought he would survive the heat coming off of the asphalt during lunch time.
3. The cankle feels spectacular. Thanks for asking.
2. People in Chicago and New York, and everywhere else north of I-10, should quit crying about the heat and come to Austin or New Orleans. Then you'll know what hot is. And, go by a window unit already, you morons.
1. I gave my 24" BMX bike to someone that needs it. That made me feel good.


So You're Saying There's a Chance?

CNN and other tabloid media outlets are reporting that, "Kate Hudson and her rocker husband Chris Robinson have separated after six years of marriage."

Who are these people and why should I care? After a bit of research, I have unearthed the following.

Apparently Kate Hudson is an Oscar-nominated actress who also happens to look good in her drawers. Her mother is a lady named Goldie who, I'm told, looks good in her drawers and is an actress, too.

A few years ago Kate married some guy named Chris who considers himself a singer and musician. He even has a band named the Black Crowes. Unfortunately, things didn't work out....probably because musicians don't really make any money - ask my buddy, Scott.

I'm not a fan of divorce. I don't advocate divorce. I think divorces suck. But, if you can't be happy, then you should eject.

Kate, I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me. I'm kind of a big deal. I mean, I am good at spooning, have a good job, and still have all of my teeth. I've even been told I'm fun at parties. Don't worry. I like doing girly stuff like watching football all weekend and drinking High Life with the guys during the week.

So, look me up when your Greyhound stops in Austin. I'll be the curly haired guy wearing a goofy t-shirt and a sweet ankle brace.


It's Monday Afternoon. Do You Know Where My Luggage Is?

My trip to Chicago was supposed to have been a busy, but restful respite from my post-surgery house arrest period. Unfortunately, my travel callouses had lost their strength as had my right calf during my extended languishing period sur la couch.

I am continually amazed by the lack of skill and awareness exhibited by the American traveler today. It is little wonder that these knuckleheads are pickpocketed during jaunts to Europe or Oakland. I have seen more self-awareness demonstrated by my nieces and nephews - most of whom still crap their pants on an hourly basis.

To top off everything, the Continental agent swapped the luggage check tag for my bag with another bag - destination McAllen, TX. Sure, it's only the second time in seven years of constant jaunting that the big CO has misplaced my luggage. But, it's like breaking up. There's never a good time.

I pledge to fly up back to O'Hare and kick that guy in the teeth if my new Cubs hat isn't in my bag when I get it back.
The last time I ranted about traveling is here.