We’re going to go ahead and call this weekend a success as I have a nice sunburn, and somehow still smell vaguely of Barton Springs and Margaritas (somebody observed that if I could figure out a way to bottle that smel , that might in fact be a good career move).
One of the reasons I love Memorial Day weekend, aside from the 3.5 days of not working is, it’s as if the cable networks have time-lock safe on all the WWII movies that only opens at the end of May. From Band of Brothers in its entirety, to the History Channel bonanza of Pacific War documentaries – if it hadn’t required being inside all weekend, I could’ve sat on the couch and viewed 72 hours non-stop of the last communal-global-suicide attempt.
Speaking of being outside, after a thunderstorm shut down the springs on Saturday, we made another attempt on Monday, and were greeted with a 20 minute line to get in (really guys, how hard is it to hand someone $3?). The line wasn’t that bad, but more excruciatingly painful was the High School kids behind us talking about how hard their lives are. Remember the days when the hardest thing in your life was when your dad wouldn’t let you get your ear pierced? Yeah, me neither, because I don’t suck at life.
And speaking of douche-bags, the drama continued after we picked out a spot on the hill above springs,as the folks behind us treated us to a litany of how great Greek parties were back when they were in school, including various different chants (complete with re-enactments), nicknames and a couple of really unfortunate anecdotes, involving a slip and slide, KY and a trip to the ER. Like, I really, like feel stupider for having over heard that, and like really fear for the future of our country if this is all we have to offer.
In the good news department, Momma and Poppa Treichler have completed the cleaning of the garage in preparation for the upcoming remodel. I have mad respect for anyone who spends a week cleaning out a garage, but even more so for cleaning garage, that has been steadily piling up up crap for the past 20 years. Construction should get swinging as soon as they can get a crew moving. I’m also looking forward to the fourth of July weekend up there which we will spend building cabinets (yes, this is my idea of fun). Doing construction work is always satisfying – doing construction work at 9,000 feet (sans oxygen) even more so. Check the Cabin project page for more updates on that chaos.
And speaking of building stuff, while at the springs, trying to ignore the washed-up greeks up hill from me, I stumbled across an ad in touting the benefits of the new Austonian, which at 56 stories will be the tallest residence in the western half of the country. The guys building this thing, have either been of planet for the past year and didn’t hear about this whole series of small problems we’ve been having with the economy, or they have brass balls the size of a 1974 Buick. I’m guessing the latter. Still this project pisses me off – the name for one thing. Guess what, folks here call them selves Austinites, not Austonians. That particular suffix is claimed by our slightly more humid cousins to the East, in my humble opinion they can have it. And point two, holy crap the size of this thing – the tiny building off to the right in the rendering there is the Frost Bank at 35ish stories. Inferiority complex much?
Finally, while the three-day weekend is great, it is in fact important to remember the nature of the holiday, and those who didn’t make it home.