Reading press clippings at The Hair Hut

An unexpected break due to circumstances beyond my control. Though I'm the captain of this particular ship, my duties are more or less ceremonial as they pertain to the real world. Nevertheless, some interesting notes in the interim. I've still not managed to get the photos of the immolated house. Not due to slackness, mind. My source in the local media, (the dear Marisol) has been tied up with other things. Surprisingly a rope was not one of them. Hopefully when things settle down, which probably won't be until next week, I can get some up here. Until then, my advice is to put those Disney imagineer skills to work. If you can dream it, do it. Etc.

So last Saturday was the big 15K in Jacksonville. The race itself was a grand time and I was quite pleased with the event itself as well as my time, 1:20. Good organization, the course was not as easy as I'd anticipated but not all that rough either. This was still Florida, which I believe is the flattest state in the union. Some may argue Delaware is. I like to call those people wrong.

There were no great tales from the run that I'm aware. There were some bands playing along the way that for the most part were probably getting paid too much for the services provided. I appreciate that some hard-working cover band is willing to get up on a Saturday morning and crank out all the songs I never want to hear again and badly at that. However, it's really not necessary. I along with, I'm guessing, 90% of the runners had their own little soundtracks and the other 10% didn't want/need to hear bad cover versions.

The bright spot/low point was one of the bands rocking the runners with some Candlebox. Kudos to them for dredging up a past we'd all rather forget but in the name of Kurdt and all that he unwittingly spawned, please consider trading in those guitars for shovels. On second thought, perhaps a third-rate version of a third-rate grunge song from a third-rate grunge band played roadside to disinterested/annoyed runners at 9 am on a Saturday morning is the respect the song deserves.

In a further quest for cutting-edge relevancy, perhaps I'll go after Everclear in my next post. Consider yourself warned, gents.

But before all this, MB and MB's hubby wanted to show me and dear old Dad around their newly adopted home. And by home, I mean current place they receive their mail. Since it was a surprisingly chilly, drizzly and foggy night, they wanted to take us to the one place to best take everything in: the beach. Figuring this to be more like an Adams Family excursion than a popular destination on a such an eve, I was surprised to find out that everyone else in Jacksonville decided to do the same thing. I guess if you've paid for the rooms though, you're going to have that beach experience regardless.

Jimmy: "But Dad, I can't feel my toes."

Dad: "Shut up, Jimmy and build that sand castle. You're having fun; you just don't realize it."

Mom: "I hate my life but at least I've got my pal Jimmy Bean to keep me warm since you don't anymore."

Enid: "My family is so lame. Thankfully, they sell rebellion at Hot Topic. At last, I can use someone else's money to get clothing that will adequately express my angst and turmoil over my current domestic situation. I can't wait to go to art college." (Enid, being a reader of Camus and huge fan of The Cure, is more sulky and verbose than the rest).

And scene.

Where was I?

I don't remember and it doesn't matter anyway. It was a good weekend though.