FUN FRIDAY!!!!!

Ah, but today is Monday, what the heckety heck heck heck?   Just how it works.  That is what makes it fun--it isn't even today.  Things in the distant past or future often look more fun than they are.  So that's why.

This is the kind of crazy other band from the Texas one that I play in.  (secretly molding their sound, too, through subliminal suggestion and demand).

I have let my beard grow since the wedding.  It is so grayish pale and soft, it just looks like a dirty face.  Little pepper there but primarily salt from what I see.  After much cajoling from Valor and Lace I said I'd see what happened if I didn't shave awhile.  Any I like I will keep.  The rest I shave.

I resist at all costs the goatee/ Van Clapp or whatever it is; that sort of beard.  No.  I resist this peer pressure.  Half the baby boomers in America and some of the alphabet generations all have those goatees.  Used to be only pimps, mobsters and strip club owners had them.  It was the most overt badge proclaiming sleazery yet contrived.    Now we are all sleazy.  And yet, I am alone and lonely.  What the heckety heck heck heck? wthhhh

The thing with shaving is, A. It takes time and I don't like to do it, B. I keep getting slight, almost invisible nicks that bleed.  It is not the blade it is because sometimes I bleed too easily.  I have had spots appear on my arm and at times one or another would bleed some.  Stigmata, not just a hazard to your eyesight any more.  Obamacare may be involved, no doubt.

Good news is I am weathering this blistering heat without big attacks of hot needles.  I have to do strange things to make it work out but you do what you can when intractable discomfort and pain come in waves./  So, I haven't had that in awhile.  Trying to maintain the upswing of my pendulum ride.  I will get my Valor and Lace fix this week; rehearsal on thurs. Play Hard rock downtown on Friday, and then coolest restaurant tavern in the county on Saturday.   Pine House Cafe on Mt. Laguna.

All part of the plan to quit living in paralyzing depression or whatever that is.  Seems to be working.  Really helps to get a Texan fix.  In my life, it has been really hard to be down around genuine Texas people.  The Horse Boy's dad was a complete jerk that time I sought them out--somewhere outside Austin a ways.   But he wasn't a real Texan, he was a limey who kept talking about the Royal special forces or some such.  I thought maybe he was a veteran--no, just an insufferably arrogant rude whinging brit.

Pine House is on the Pacific Crest Trail.  People hike from Mexico to Canada.  They often are given shelter in the Cafe.  She lets them put sleeping bags on the floor.  She or her son lives upstairs so it is semi safe.  She has been very kind to hikers.  Last time there was a group laying out various things to dry on an old rail hitching post thing just outside under the overhang.  But they had to come in a buy dinner to hang with us.  The place filled up with others mostly.  Hikers are rarely on a fine dining quest.