Foxjerky

As I was picking up some Stella on the way home from work yesterday, I stumbled into this unfortunate mess: official Jeff Foxworthy beef jerky. I was honestly stunned for a couple of seconds. Could this possibly preclude my enjoying beef jerky for the rest of my entire life? When my mind was done wrapping itself around the concept of a comedian-endorsed meat product, I laughed heartily and drew my camera phone. I'm still not certain whether you get 10% more jerky or 10% more sleeping-ferret moustache. In other news, I still like Stella very much but after having them both in a short time frame I think Bitburger continues to be my No.1 preferred lager.

Schlotzsky's gives you a pickle spear now! I don't know when they started doing this because before yesterday I hadn't eaten there in quite a while. In any case, it's a damn good pickle! I can't find anything about it on their website but it was really fresh and had an interesting flavor. Their sandwiches are still very good, and I went ahead and doused mine in a bunch of their hot sauce, which I hadn't done before. It was excellent. It was a relatively new location out in a big strip mall development near work, all pimped out inside with lots of big wood beam framework and free-use computers and wifi. I remember hearing that they were having some kind of bankruptcy situation or something a while back; I guess nothing substantial ever came of that cause the place was about as big as the one down on Lamar. I remember that seemed like it was going to be their home base back in the day, as big as they could get. Now that I'm thinking about it, me, Aner, and Mutton all went there on the last day of high school.

How Long? Walter E. Long!

We went to Decker Lake on Sunday (a.k.a. Walter E. Long Lake) for a little fishing action with the pops. It's supposed to be "excellent" for bass fishing and I've heard good things about the white bass there but we didn't run into much luck. First, we tried for some catfish early on with some cut up shrimp and bobbers in the power plant outlet; nothing doing. Then we moved around the main bend in the lake and checked out a little cove where shad were jumping, a good sign. We threw in a few spoons and floating lures with no response until my dad confirmed that the dark shape I had earlier witnessed chasing the little shad out of the water was a gar, and there were several of them about. To finish up, we started at one end of the dam and floated along throwing in some minnows. Finally c2 got a hit and pulled in a little bass, a little one but welcome company nevertheless. A few minutes later dad caught a freshwater drum. He croaked at us and we let him go. A couple of times on the water the sky opened up and dropped a downpour on us. Dad's little boat has a canopy on it so we were able to stand (or crouch) underneath and get some protection from the rain, but it was definitely the visual of the day to see the air thick with precipitation and the surface of the water turned into a layer of dancing spray.

This was a disgusting update on the abu ghraib b.s. It focuses on Taguba's account of the events but provides some believeable side sources, only a few of those anonymous. My favorite part is definitely the Top Gun-esque moment with Rummy and Taguba in the locker room. I can't help but envision Rummy head back, popping his gum in Taguba's face. "The plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies room." And I'd never heard of the terrible video they mention... all in all some lovely information, just great. Fuck! Of course those wonderful New Yorker cartoons definitely live up to their vacuous reputation. If comedy was beer they'd be piss warm chango.

I finished that last Vonnegut book I was talking about, Slapstick. There were plenty of amusing little ideas in the storyline but it ends really sloppily and nonsensically. It's a fairly unconventional story overall and just sort of comes apart after the main body is spent. Still, there's some great examples of his dry imagination buried throughout Slapstick, but the other two novels I discussed earlier were a little better.

I can't help but add one more Top Gun quote:

Slider: Goose, who's butt did you kiss to get in here anyway?

Goose: The list is long, but distinguished.

Slider: Yeah, well so is my Johnson.

from the vonnegut

I finished Bluebeard today, and it occurred to me that in my last post I may have given it, as well as Jailbird, somewhat too short a shrift (interesting etymology there). I wanted to go on record as saying that they are fine examples of Vonnegut’s style and skill. He always emphasizes the (sad) beauty in life that even a cynic can enjoy, which is probably why his books appeal to me so much. I’m about to start Slapstick, the last (and most officially autobiographical, if that makes any sense) of the three old Vonnegut novels I picked up from a garage sale a few weeks back. After that I’ll probably try to kill the two Anne Rice books I bought on the same occasion – Pandora and Vittorio the Vampire. I'm not staking any claims about their quality, but I've enjoyed one or two of her works before. Still, it's very possible she's completely sucked the genre dry at this point.

I had a pint of draft Live Oak at Papadeaux's the other day. I've had it before but couldn't remember the taste. I'm almost positive it was the pale ale. To me it tasted like a slightly weak Newcastle, which I guess is a good thing.

The very end of the Wire Season 1 finale was awesome. Fuckin' Omar!

more R&R

What's the word, turd?

I went to a tournament at Battleforge Games last weekend. There's a write up on my 40kology blog.

Books: I recently finished Imperial Life in the Emerald City, an inside look at Bremer's coalition provisional authority that set up in a big palace in Baghdad's green zone at the beginning of the occupation and proceeded to spend buttloads of money while accomplishing next to jack shit and many times making the situation worse. It was shocking, depressing, etcetera. A blissfully naive effort to create an insta capitalist democracy in what sounds like a backwards, corrupt(ed) dump. Oh well, launch all zigs. For great justice. Thereafter I read Vonnegut's Jailbird, which was good, but not especially funny or memorable. Now I'm reading Bluebeard which so far feels about the same. Both are told from first-person, both are loaded with coincidence and irony, and both feature playful little digs at different elements in American culture. Labor and economics in Jailbird, art and literature in Bluebeard. At least, that's my early take.

Movies: It's been a while since I reviewed any movies, let me play catch-up here and spin a few quick ones:

Daria: Is It Fall Yet? - Lame. I netflixed it for some goddamn reason, forgetting that we'd actually watched it already. It wasn't any better the secondtime around.

Flags of Our Fathers - OK, but it's no das Boot.

Land of the Dead - Decent, definitely in the idiom of his earlier movies (e.g. Day of the Dead). Some interesting innovations in zombie mythos.

Pan's Labyrinth - Meh. What was with all the big hoopla about this one?

Sophie Scholl: The Final Days - Definitely worth watching, depressing but very tense and dramatic.

28 Weeks Later - OK sequel to my current favorite zombie movie. Very violent, sometimes a little too extreme for extreme's sake.

Smokin' Aces - Meh. Who shot what now?

TV: Lost had the best 2007 season finale, hands down. Can't wait for the next season to begin. Heroes wrapped up fairly nicely, maybe a tad anticlimatic. The Shield and The Riches final episodes were both kinda lame, nothing really revelatory or cliffhangery. My current netflixed HBO series is The Wire. I'm nearing the end of the first season and it is fucking great. I can't believe the person that just got shot just got shot! Fuck!

Beer: Real Ale keeps me coming back for more Rio Blanco Pale Ale and Fireman's #4. Damn!

Fish: We picked up a couple new Oscars, very little but already showing the same kind of bossy, fearless personality as their predecessor. Behold, Romulus and Remus.

New Set of Melons

I just happened to check the Blind Melon Wiki entry today, and what I discovered shocked me to the core. Well, maybe not all the way to the core, but it's still pretty cool that as of late last year, they've reformed with a new singer and are currently recording a new album. Their Myspace blog discusses the album and the new singer a little bit. Like I say, this is old news, but somehow I never heard about it. Also I found the webpage for the tribute album, which I'd heard about when it was still in development. There's samples on the page there. I'm still making my way through them but so far what I've heard sounds pretty awesome. It's nice to hear some different artists give their alternate takes on of some of their best songs. I don't know whether I'd ever purchase it though - some of them are pretty generic teen rock band-esque.

My favorite is probably the Jena Kraus take on "Tickled Pink." And you gotta love the David Aaron version of "Life Ain't So Shitty." Jesus. Kiss of the Melonferatu. It says on his artist page that he's gifted with "Jeff Buckley reminiscent vocals and innovative transitions." From just hearing this one song, I assume they're talking post-drowning Buckley. That was a whole different phase.

Restaurant: Tropical Smoothie Café

A couple of weeks ago I got a coupon via email for free shit at a nearby Tropical Smoothie Café(www.tropicalsmoothie.com), so me and my lovely drove over to give it a try. It bills itself to be a healthy alternative to fast food, with sandwiches, wraps, salads, and obviously a bunch of different kinds of smoothies. Prices are about the same as other sandwich places, which for some reason seem to have shot up in the last few years. Schlotzky’s always had an excuse in my opinion, as the sandwiches are all warm, they come with tons of meat and veggies, and the bread is something special, but Quiznos, Subway... even for a smallish lunch you’re probably not going to pay less than $8. Kinda ridiculous. But I digress.

For food we decided to try their wraps. C2 had the Chicken Philly Grill, and I got the Jamaican Jerk Chicken wrap. They were both fair to middlin’, although the “Texas Petal Sauce” (basically a southwestern dressing) that comes with the Philly grill was a strange combination with all the other ingredients. The jerk chicken wrap was nice and spicy and all the ingredients tasted fresh, but next time I think we might give the regular sandwiches a try. The ones I saw others eating seemed a little small, but they’re served on some kind of focaccia that looked interesting.

I kind of blanked on the smoothies and just ordered the same thing that C2 asked for, a strawberry beach smoothie (strawberries and yogurt). They were ok, but I should have tried something different - next time maybe I’ll go with a Blimey Limey (strawberries, pineapples, orange, lime). I would also add that the smallest size of smoothie you can get (the regular) was maybe too much for one person (especially to go along with food). Getting one to split might be a better choice in the future.

All in all, there wasn’t anything particularly spectacular going on at Tropical Smoothie Café, but I think we would eat there again for variety. It was a nice switch from burgers and burritos. According to signs inside, they’re open for breakfast as well.

South Padre Island 6-01-07

This weekend we ventured down (way, way down) to South Padre Island. We left Austin on Friday around 13:00 via 35, to 37, 77, and finally, 100, to arrive at Beach Access #6 around 19:30. The tide was low and we drive on the hard pack along shore; a few more miles up the beach and we found Robersan's truck, empty. K-lube emerges from the ocean and led the way to the established camp site behind a nearby set of dunes. The wind was blowing 15-20 miles per hour, battering us all to hell and whipping the top layer of sand up into the air. We barely got the new tent assembed (a Magellan Yosemite, a decent, cheap tent for 2-3) just as the sun went down, and we got the fire going for a few brots and buns. About that time Cecil and Will called from up the beach: they were stuck in the sand. K-lube and Robersan became stuck themselves going to the rescue and shortly returned to camp. After dinner the stuck pigs showed up, having dug their way out with a handy shovel. They removed the sand behind the tires and rocked it backwards before charging further down the trail. Good strategy, and it would pay off the next day in spades (har har). Unfortunately, they weren't as lucky with their tent and were unable to get it upright in the terrible winds. During all this, we discovered that having one side caved in by wind was letting sand rain into our own tent at a prodigious rate. Despite being a few beers deep (or perhaps because of it) we were able to unstake and relocate it, posting it snug up against a nearby dune. After some sandy food, there was only one thing left to do: party balls and forget about the ridiculous conditions. The full moon was up and we had plenty of beer and ice, so it was pretty much a slam dunk. The shore and dunes at night in bright moonlight were spectacular, completely worth the price of admission.

I woke up a little groggy at sunrise, looked in on Cecil and Wilson who had braved the elements sleeping in the back of the trucks, and went down to throw a few lures in the water. The wind was still whipping hard and the surf was awesome, but fishing was a non-starter. I had to clear the line of seaweed and trash after every cast; nothing was happening. So I swam a bit as the sun climbed out of the ocean. Fun but quite violent. Later, everyone else woke up covered in sand and feeling a mite peckish, and we decided to high-tail it out of there. The trip back through the deep sand (the tide was up and we had to take the high road) was total white-knuckle because we had to keep moving in order to remain unstuck. Finally after twenty minutes of ass-hauling and nail biting we arrived back at the beach entrance and parted ways. We took 77 all the way up to 183 on the trip back and although there were more small towns and downshifting involved, it was much more scenic, a great transition from south texas farms and game ranches to the hill country forests. I believe it crossed the Guadalupe three times and each bridge was different; the river was flooded up something fierce from last week's rains.

Padre lessons: four-wheel drive is a must, as is coordinating your stay with the full moon, and don't forget the hand brush for de-saandification. Compared to Port Aransas, which I've visited more often, the sand in Padre is much finer and you're just never rid of it. The water is slightly more clear but I didn't notice too much of a difference from beaches further up the coast. Up the beach away from the main park, you can get very well isolated from other campers, but there's no electricity, showers or even chemical toilets, so it's essentially a primitive experience, which can be its own pleasure if you're prepared for it. You've never deuced until you've deuced out of doors. You can't simply pretend you didn't just deuce on the ground right there. It's really the essence of deuce undistilled and in your face. Thankfully the issue never came up for me this time.