Long Time Coming

One of the major downsides to living in Texas is the lack of good sports teams.  More specifically, they aren't Chicago teams.  So when I do get the chance to watch a Chicago game, I try and take advantage.  The Bulls play on WGN pretty much every Saturday night so I get to see them at least once a week.  The bad part is that WGN does not have an HD channel here, which might actually be a blessing since Joakim Noah came back.  Dude is not easy on the eyes.  So I spend most of my Saturday evenings watching the Bulls in standard definition.  In this day and age, that amounts to me being a hardcore fan.

The week I moved down, it was the last weekend of the NFL regular season.  I went to the sports bar a block away and watched the Bears game on a 20 inch TV behind the bar while the shitty Cowboys game was played on the projectors.  Next week, the Bears had a first round bye in the playoffs.   For the second round of the playoffs, I watched the Bears vs. Seahawks by myself in my apartment.  Shitty, but I made nachos, drank free beers, and screamed and shouted my ass off.  When the Bears won and advanced to the NFC Championship game, I decided I had to watch the game with other Bears fans.  Considering I'm about 1100 miles from Chicago, I figured I may have a tough time accomplishing this.  Enter Google.

A Google search for "bears bar Austin" did not provide any help since the first search result is for "Best Gay Bars in Austin."  After a more detailed Google search for "CHICAGO bears bar Austin" I kept finding a listing for Cluckers, a chicken wing bar/restaurant about 20 miles north in the city of Round Rock.  Throughout the week before the game, I kept changing my mind about going to the bar or not.  I didn't want to risk drinking and driving since Texas is insane about cops.  (side tangent: Austin PD, Travis Co. Sheriff, State Troopers, UT Police, and Travis Co. Constables all patrol the city and surrounding area.  An no, I have no idea what the fuck a constable is or how they differ from the sheriffs)  The game started at noon, and at about 10:30am I finally convinced myself that I was going to go watch it with others. 

Bear Down indeed

I called the bar beforehand to make sure that they actually were a Bears bar and the lady on the phone hesitated quite a bit so I had no idea what to expect.  As I pulled into the parking lot and saw this, my fears quickly subsided.  The parking lot was filled with people in Bears jerseys, cars with Bears license plates, stickers, flags, giant inflatable players, etc.  My mind was blown.  And unfortunately, nothing else was.

The bar was packed with Bears fans.  I managed to find a seat next to a guy who had moved away 10 years ago but still loved the Bears.  When the Bears scored, the bar played "Bear Down, Chicago Bears."  This is video of said song.  While the outcome of the game fucking sucked, being able to watch it with fellow Bears fans was something I'll never forget and am looking forward to doing on a regular weekly basis come Sundays in September and beyond.  Do not fuck this up for me owners and players. 

Please try and ignore my finger that keeps getting in the shot. 
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With so many volunteers and agencies we are involved with, I meet a lot of new people almost on a daily basis at my new job.  When meeting someone for the first time, as I'm sure is the case with most people, my first reaction is to go in for a handshake.  For whatever reason though, I always tend to misjudge the other person's hand and either grasp too high where my fingers touch their wrist or go in too low and only get finger tips and no palm.  There's nothing you can do to amend this as it's happening, you just have to forge through and hope the other person doesn't think you're a complete ass for messing up a handshake.  Can't remember the last time I participated in a good handshake.  Probably this one from May '09. 

My dad even looks intense

For whatever reason, my friend Dan and I attempt to take a picture of us shaking hands whilst looking serious.  It's probably one of those "gotta be there" things, but it always takes as a minimum of four attempts to look serious.  I always tend to find this hilarious while those taking the picture tend to get super annoyed.  And yes, that is an O'Donnell University shirt I'm wearing.  Very exclusive. 
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This sign is on the building I work in.  Good thing I only pack shotguns. 

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85 here tomorrow.  Y'all come back now y'hear.

Short and Sweet

I really hate to brag about the weather in Austin.  Not because 98% my friends and family are currently getting more snow tonight.  But because I'm pretty sure I will regret it come late July and August.  But for the time being, 80 degrees on February fucking 21st. 
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No new items crossed off the bucket list, but two new ones were added:
1) the Pubcrawler.  Driving through downtown last night, I turned a corner and found myself behind this contraption: 15 parts bike, 1 part bar.  You get 10 people to pedal, 1 driver, and then 5-6 others who can sit in the back and enjoy the ride.  All while drinking.  I see no downside.  I must partake.  I will partake. 

2) BYOB mini golf at a place called Peter Pan Mini-Golf.  Never never land indeed. 
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Took this picture a few weeks ago.  Pretty sure these rims belong on the villain's car in a Batman movie.

Fond memories of the Road Rash games

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One more picture, and that's it.  This was taken earlier today on Mt. Bonnell overlooking Town Lake.  There's not any observation or attempted joke with this one.  Just making you northerners feel bad. 

Wanted to piss over the edge, but didn't

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Really short on material and/or jokes this week.  24 days til St. Patrick's Day/start of SXSW.  Getting excited. 
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Y'all come back now y'hear.

Buckets and Lists

When I moved out on my own, I planned on being adventurous and trying new things.  And while this has been accomplished to a point, I still tend to not do things out of the ordinary.  Thus my Austin Bucket List was created. 

Ideally, my bucket list will become a living document that grows every day.  At the moment, my Austin-specific bucket list has ten things on it, with one of those already being completed.  I believe I wrote it one night while drinking in my apartment, which is a very new concept for me. 

1) ride the giant mustache- if you remember, I posted a picture of a giant mustache in front of a local restaurant.  Well maybe three days later, I rode that bitch.  Pretty sure I don't actually need to point this out, but I'm on the left. My fellow rider is one of my co-workers.  Seems like I may be enjoying this more than him.

 

Mustache ride indeed

2) see the bats- I've spoken about this before as well, but I want to see the giant bat colony fly from under the bridge.  I've been told that there are boat tours one can take and watch from the river.  I've also been told that the bats shit all over those boats.  Looking forward to it!!  Pictures and maybe even videos will be posted when this one happens.

3) go to South by Southwest- for those who don't know what SXSW is, just ring your call button and Tommy will come back there and hit you in the head with a tack hammer.  The music portion of SXSW starts on March 16th.  On Thursday, March 17th, which also happens to be the birthday of Ireland, my oldest sister is coming to Austin.  I magically was able to get the next day off work (hooray for working MLK Day) and we will proceed to do what people do at SXSW.  I'm not really sure what that is yet, but I'm super fucking excited to find out. 

4) ride bikes with Lance- Lance being Austin-native Lance Armstrong.  I've heard all kinds of stories about Lance and most of them have not been positive.  I've heard he only has one testicle.  Pretty sure that one is true, but its still not positive.  I've also been told that he tends to ride his bike around the city and surrounding hills.  While I haven't owned a bike since about sophomore year in high school and do not have one here, this goal will be mine.  Oh yes, it will be mine. 

(Not to get off topic, but the bike I used to have was a Dyno NSX.  Blue frame with yellow lettering, black pegs on the back, hand breaks; it had it all.  My mom sold it at a garage sale for two fucking dollars.  Can you tell I'm still a little bitter?)

(The last word in that last paragraph originally was spelled biter which is still true, but is a different story for a different time)

5) tailgate a UT game- I went to college at a small-ish school in northeastern Ohio.  Not terribly small, pretty sure there were around 30,000 students.  (Just made that number up, could be way off).  In my four years, the football stadium was located 8 miles off campus.  On several occasions I went and tailgated for our sad, sad football team.  (2005 MAC Champs though)  No matter how shitty the team was, tailgating was always amazing.  With that being said, UT has more than 100,000 students and the stadium is the 6th largest in the US and 9th largest non-racing stadium in the world.  So if I thought that tailgating at a stadium with maybe 15,000 spectators was awesome, I can't even comprehend tailgating for UT.  (Related note: I drive past the stadium on my way to work.  The thing is massive.)

6) get boots and a hat- everybody wears boots down here.  And I cannot wait until I get some.  However, they are pretty damn expensive.  $200 for a cheap pair.  Wonder how much mine made out of mustache hairs will cost.  Same thing goes for a hat.  They aren't an accessory down here, they're a way of life.

7) go to a rodeo- this one is kind of self-explanatory.  To be honest, I've been to a rodeo in South Dakota or Wyoming.  The one thing that I remember from this rodeo was a conversation my mom had with an usher:
Mom: "excuse me, can you tell us how to get to Crested Butt."
Usher (not the singer): "It's pronounced Butte."

While hilarious to a ten year old, this is the extent of what I remember from the rodeo.  This is the reason why I need to experience one again. 


8) ride a horse- I have never ridden a horse.  The closest thing I've come to riding a horse is getting a piggy back ride from a fat kid in college.   

9) kayak down the river- another activity that I've never done.  My family went on a fishing trip to northern Minnesota one year.  We planned on a canoeing trip near the Canadian border.  My parents, two sisters, and I were all in one canoe.  Parents sat on the seats as they paddled.  My sisters and I sat on the floor of the canoe and slowly became soaking wet once we realized the canoe had a tiny hole.  We were in the middle of nowhere, sitting in water, and just had to deal with it.  That kind of ruined canoeing for me.  But I'm hoping kayaking is nothing like canoeing.  I'll let you know. 

10) float down the river- So it seems that there are lots of outdoor things to do in Austin.  Floating down a river in an inner tube and a cooler of beer sounds awesome.  My family did this sort of thing in Arizona about 12 years ago.  The whole time, the river was rather calm but the current was definitely taking us downstream.  My dad, uncle, oldest sister and myself broke off from the rest of the family at one point.  This was good until we went around a bend and noticed a tree had fallen into the river.  My sister couldn't avoid the log and was dragged underneath it.  She ended up losing one of her water shoes and the sheet that was covering her tube.  Don't fuck with the river. 

I'm hoping there are no trees in the river here.

This is the extent of my Austin bucket list at the moment.  I'm sure once I get more familiar with things here, I'll be adding and hopefully crossing things off.
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This last Tuesday, I went to a roller rink for the first time since about '96.  And it was awesome.  It was adult night so there weren't any bastard kids around.  There were afros, short shorts, track suits, knee high socks, tank tops, sequined shirts.  And that's just what I was wearing. 

As with nascar, people go roller skating to see other people crash and fall.  Or maybe that's just me.  But I saw quite a few nasty spills.  There was one guy who had a black tshirt, black jeans, and a whistle around his neck.  His shirt AND jeans were embroidered with the name of the roller rink.  Either he was the owner or their best customer.  Whenever someone would fall near him, he would stop traffic like a crossing guard and blow his whistle. 

Sadly, no pictures from this event but roller skating was quite enjoyable.  I can't remember the last time I'd actually worn roller skates instead of blades.  And yes, I did feel like T.I. in ATL. 
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I don't own a vacuum.  I didn't really think that this would be a problem until I realized that I clean off my table and counter tops by brushing everything onto the floor.  After six weeks, the carpet was looking pretty rough.  So while I don't have a vacuum, I do have a roll of duct tape.  I spent my afternoon wrapping my hands in duct tape and attempting to get all the shit out of my carpet.  Well a half hour later and half of the duct tape gone, I had cleaned roughly a fourth of the carpet.  If anyone has a vacuum for sale, I'm looking. 
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One last short note: I was driving home from the store today when I saw two blind people walking together.  It was literally the blind leading the blind.
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65 in Austin today.  Y'all come back now y'hear

Operation: Phuck Fil

Four years ago tonight, I participated in one of the greatest 12 hour road trips known to man.  But more on this later.
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As most of you, I love my mom.  When I was moving, she already had so much shit for my new place that I honestly did not buy any utensils, pots/pans, towels, sheets, etc.  Some things I am the proud owner of: ice cream scooper, cheese grater, two grilling tongs (no grill though), 4 coffee mugs (don't drink coffee or tea), a cooler, 4 folding chairs, and a squeegee.  For the record, the other things were just filler until I got to the main point, the squeegee.

Apparently the squeegee is to use in the bathroom after I shower (and dodge the nail gun that is my shower head) to get all the water off the shower curtain and walls to reduce the likelihood of mold or other nasty things.  Well it sat in my shower for weeks.  Still had the tag attached to it three weeks after I moved.  Then one day I decided to give it a try.  And let me tell you, my mom is a fucking genius.

I could give a shit if it stops mold or whatever, but it makes me feel like I'm harnessed up and swinging from some giant building, just cleaning those windows.  And after two weeks, I am superbly skilled with my squeegee.  Left handed, right handed, axe handle, behind the back.  All the moves are in play.  I feel like I could stand on the corner of 35th and Western and clean windshields with the best Chicago has to offer.  I won't even mention the Big Steve because the bums here do nothing but hold signs.  At least be productive. 

It's gotten to the point that using the squeegee is part of my routine: stand under the hot water for 6 minutes, open the curtain and flex in the mirror, wash hair, flex again, wash my body, flex, shampoo again (seriously), then squeegee the wall.  Sometimes I even attempt to squeege the curtain as well.  This is a lot tougher since I need to attempt to use my off hand as a backboard behind the curtain, but its still fun. 

Who would have thought that the first sentence of this story would be "I love my mom" and it would end up being a story about me showering.
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The greatest 12 hour road trip began at roughly 10pm on February 2007.  It was cold, but not snowing.  Three friends and I decided to check something off the bucket list: setting foot on Gobbler's Knob.  We set out from Akron heading east towards our destination Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, aka the mecca of Groundhog Day.  Exactly 17 minutes after we left, we had to stop on the side of I-80 to piss.  It was going to be a long night. 
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I went and got my first Texas haircut tonight.  I'm not picky when it comes to my hair.  I don't need a fancy salon place.  When the person asks me how I want my hair, I just tell them "shorter."  So after following the advice of two co-workers, I had settled on Floyd's Barbershop.  The weird part is that it's actual a semi-national chain.  They even have locations in Chicago (northside though, so I never came close to them).  Not what I was used to, but went for it. 

I called ahead and asked how long the wait would be and was told 15 minutes.  I got there 20 minutes later, signed in, read a paragraph of the newspaper and then it was my turn.  Pretty impressed with the lack of a wait, not so impressed with the estimating skills of the girl who answered the phone. 

So once I get my hair did, the lady mentioned that the hot towel was up next.  She then wrapped a pretty fucking hot towel around my neck and covered my face.  And then she kept it there.  For at least a minute.  Now being new to this, I didn't know if she was waiting for me to do anything at this point (walk around like a mummy was the only thing that came to mind), but I just sat there.  And so she kept the towel on me, even as the boiling water ran down my neck.  I can only imagine what I looked like, sitting there with some big ass towel draped over my face, not moving.  Just a strange situation for me.  I mean, it was awesome, but still strange.

I've always been a proponent for the hot shaving cream and straight edge shave on the back of the neck and Floyd's did not disappoint.  The perfect ending to a haircut: heated foam and cold steel on my neck. 
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Before I say anything else about the trip, know this: our driver was stone cold sober.  He actually had to work the next morning at like 9am so he had to stay sober to get us all home.  With that being said, the backseat of his Chevy Cobalt was packed with three things: myself, an old friend, and my other friend Jeff.  The old friend in question was beer, just to make that clear.  Three and a half hours, probably 6 piss breaks and one restroom incident that I won't even get into, we had made it to Punxsutawney.  For the brain dead, Punxsutawney is where they make a HUGE deal about the groundhog coming out and seeing his shadow or not.  The other 364 days of the year, I'm sure this town blows. 

Our directions were just to the city itself, since we didn't really know exactly the festivities were actually held.  It must have been 2 a.m. by the time we pulled into the Walmart parking lot in Punxsutawney
 

Can't see a damn thing

Everyone boarded a bus and headed up to Gobbler's Knob, which must be the worst name those early settlers could have come up with.  After a fifteen minute drive we reached the summit.  Exiting the bus, we had no idea what to expect....  Well the place was packed with an easy 30,000 people.  At this point, the sun is beginning to come up so we moved as close to the stage as possible.  Along the way, we even got a picture with a man dressed as Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.  We were still so far away that I couldn't even tell what was going on.  They took that damn groundhog out, aptly named Punxsutawney Phil, and he either saw his shadow or he didn't.  I really have no idea what happened.  The whole thing was over within 15 minutes.  We ran back to the buses and rode back down to the Walmart parking lot.  

I slept the entire way home.  My roommate, who had to work later on that morning, drove us home.  The entire trip lasted no more than 12 hours.  The whole time we actually saw the damn groundhog was no more than 5 minutes.  Yet this trip might have been the epitome of my college career.  I will never forget those 12 hours (except for the ride home, I was knocked the fuck out). 

We tried to relive the glory again the next year too.  We had three core members from the first trip and took another friend with us.  This time is was freezing, snowing, and windy as fuck.  We again arrived at the Walmart lot but it just wasn't the same.  We turned around and just drove home.  It wasn't meant to be.  I'll never forget that first Groundhog Day and appropriately named Operation: Phuck Fil.  

on the Knob

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Y'all come back now y'hear