Lame O.

I’ve had a bad case of feeling like one of the least interesting people on earth and therefore haven’t had much to write about recently. I’ve been trying to talk less, sleep more and focus on cool stuff around me to remedy my condition. We’ll see what happens. I’m sure you understand.

Three things that made me smile this week.

Piracy article by Conor McCarthy

Comic strip from the Perry Bible Fellowship:

And this photo of the guys from Drakkar Sauna:

Have a good weekend. Smile often.

If only.

I was cleaning up after Jez during a very pleasant morning walk, when my thumb poked through the bottom of the yellow plastic bag. It was a classic case of poo finger.

I looked down at my hand and thought, “Man, it would’ve been a decent morning, if only I hadn’t gotten dog crap all over my hand.”

Feeling a lousy day coming on, I slipped into a pseudo-analytic state. I considered the human condition and our need to constantly qualify the good things that happen with if only statements that lead us in big silly circles and perpetual states of dissatisfaction.

Consider the purchase of real estate as a great, relatively benign example:

You’re making your way, paying your rent and suddenly it hits you:

Life would be great, if only we didn’t have this rotten landlord who never fixes anything.

So, you take out a gigantic loan that you never intend to pay off and a whole different kind of if only statement begins to flash through your mind:

This would be a nice place to live, if only we had a million dollars to fix it up.

So, you start tearing things apart and getting to know the guys at the hardware store, when another load of if onlys drop from the sky:

I could fix that, if only I had the right tools.

So, you go out and spend more money you don’t have and you have a new problem:

I’d do something fun this weekend, if only I wasn’t in the middle of 17 pointless projects.

And before you know it, you’re right back where you started:

Life would be great, if only we hadn’t bought this stupid house.

Do you follow me? Houses. Cars. Relationships. Pets. Food. Entertainment. Your pillow. No matter what you put in the spotlight, we’re wired to constantly come up with if only statements that wreck the whole thing. I blame consumerism. I blame checklists. I blame the rich and the poor and the bastards who drive yellow Hummers without a care in the world. But most of all I blame myself for not being smart enough to manage it.

As usual, there’s no real point to my rhetoric. Just putting it out there. My conclusion? I suppose I’d be happy all the time, if only I didn’t have this stupid brain.

Eaten alive.

Jez has two water bowls. One inside the house with her food and another on the back porch. The bowl on the porch is her preferred drinking bowl and we often worry that she doesn’t get any water during the day when she’s locked inside because she’s holding out for the one on the deck. So, we take extra special care to make sure the deck bowl is always full and free of debris.

Today, after we returned from our morning walk, I noticed a big bug swimming on the surface of her sacred water.

“Yer gonna drown bug,” I mumbled to myself like a crazy person, “Or worse, you’ll get slurped up by Jez.”

So, I gently fished him out and set him free on the deck floor. Naturally, Jez was standing by watching the whole thing. And waiting.

Feeling good about my life-saving efforts, Jez suddenly lunged forward and ate the bug whole.

In retrospect, I suppose I probably should’ve let the bug swim, but at least Jez got a snack out of the deal.

Ready to go home, y’all.

I believe Cristi and I have walked at least fifty miles in the last two days. A great way to experience things one might otherwise miss in a car, traveling by foot takes on an entirely different dimension when it’s 101 degrees. Add about fifteen pounds of cheese in there and thirty-seven Shiner Bocks and you’ve got yourself a truly unforgettable experience.

Of course, the Cheese Fest remains the highlight of our Austin vacation. This year, Cristi focused on getting to know more about Goudas and I finally clarified once and for all that I prefer a creamy blue cheese over an acidic one. $50 for all you can drink and eat, plus a big grab bag of fancy crackers and meats at the end, I’d say the entire event is a great value for cheese fanatics and amateurs alike.

Today we make our way back to Chicagoland. We miss our sweet old dog and our familiar surroundings. I would agree with all the rave reviews that Austin is a place worth visiting, but I might recommend renting a car to anyone seeking my advice on the subject.

Some things are bigger in Texas.

We’re staying at a quaint little place in south Austin known as the Austin Motel. The walls are painted funky colors, there’s a window unit rumbling in the corner and Wi-Fi goes in and out fairly often. So, basically, it’s just like being at home. There is one very important difference, however. We have a yard here. More yard than we’ve had for years, as a matter of fact.

So that’s where he lives.

Say cheese.

This Friday, Cristi and I get on an airplane bound for Austin, Texas. It all started at the 2008 Festival of Cheese, when our Wisconsin friends invited us to join them for the 2009 event. I’m not sure we’ve ever planned anything an entire year in advance, but this is one instance where temptation got the best of us.

A quick recap of a couple of important things we learned last year:

> Start at the Blue Cheese table

> Don’t fill up on crackers

> Drink wine instead of beer for maximum cheese capacity

> A ballroom full of cheese stinks, but eventually you get used to it

Please stay tuned for reports from the road.

Jez.

Self service.