High Temperature, Low Octane

So I’m still staying at Jose’s place, where the upstairs neighbor seems to have suspended his training (walking up-and-down the flight of stairs next to our door while reading fantasy novels, trying to outpace last year’s 35,000 flights). However, he has taken to having more “visitation” with his daughters. Here the quotation marks are very appropriate since most of the time the daughters seem to loiter outside, lying on the sidewalk or car trunk, avoiding him while he listens to loud TV and paces heavily (this I know only from sound). Right now we’re having a fierce rainstorm and, as best I can tell, the older daughter is on her knees at the front of our complex taking an outdoor bath while she swings her soggy long hair, seeing how close she can swing her locks to a big puddle without dunking.

We also have a new resident next door, a chubby and jolly 30-something waitress who loves her dog an always says hi. The other night she locked herself out of the apartment and giggled about it, saying something akin to, “That is SO me.”

Hard to believe I was away almost all of July (except for the first few days) and now I have very little time left here. Jose returns in a couple of weekends, on the 20th. It’ll be good to have him back … I’ve been surrounded by his books and his posters, but it seems like a lifetime since we hit the Tapatía for a Tecate & Negra Modelo (respectively).

Anyway, to finish the travel narrative, me puking up the bulk of my innards all night long spoiled the bicycle trip we were going to take in San Cristóbal, so once I was better we took the winding mountain night trip up to Puerto Escondido, a Pacific beach in Oaxaca province. There it got hotter than hell once again, but the beach we went to was beautiful … steep and rocky, with only a short length of sand between precipice and suds … & waves that crashed very suddenly. We had a nice hotel room with a balcony; that was the first time in a while that I’ve looked west over the water while having my evening beer. (On my two California trips this year I wasn’t that close to the water).

The next day we took what was perhaps the single scariest car ride of my entire life. For those that know me, I’m not a timid nor slow driver, and in general I’ve not been intimidated by kooky driving abroad. However -- & my apologies to the Mexicans – these people are beyond the pale, van and taxi drivers especially but also some bus drivers. Plus they crank the most awful music you can imagine, all night long in some cases.

(As an aside note – and a sexist one – let me just say I’ll never get over the fact that all these adult male Mexicans who are relatively masculine in their general behavior like to listen to corny melodramatic pop produced entirely by synthetic instruments … a genre which apparently has not produced a single song that fails to ask (1) Why did you leave me? or (2) When are you coming back? or (3) Why do I love you so much? …. Aaaaaaamooooooooooooorrrrrr … Mi viiiiiiiiida …)

So, anyway, the van driver who took us to Oaxaca is probably dead by now. In the slick rain in the dark, with a thick haze and 30% visibility, he took us careening around mountain turns for six straight hours, passing even when he had no more that *maybe* a second and a half’s worth of forward visibility. Several times I felt our right tires slide into the outside dip of a certain-death curve; and several times we avoided a wreck with an oncoming car by millimeters. Once while passing we almost hit a large bus head on … our only alternative was to swerve left into what turned out to be … a large Hazardous Materials truck. Somehow everybody swerved and nobody hit nor fell off the mountain. But … damn ,,, I only mention it because normally I characterize myself as a fairly fearless traveler. But this stuff was just dumb, really. Definitely tops the nutty driving I saw high in the Andes between Argentina and Chile.

Oaxaca, like San Cristóbal, was beautiful. We weren’t able to go for the Guelaguetza festivals themselves, but we caught the middle week, so we were able to see some evening fanfare in the square. And hit an art museum opening as well as the ruins of Monte Alban. Amazing that that place was already large & established in 300 or 400 B.C.

From Oaxaca we went to stay at Lu’s family’s beautiful house in Cuernavaca, where – immediately upon arriving – I got sick and spent the entire day in bed with a fever that wouldn’t break until late at night. Not sure what that was about, but I feel like at least two or three illnesses is par for the course in Mexico. The second day we went to the colonial town of Taxco with Lu’s dad, sister, and her boyfriend Brad …as well as Lu’s aunt. Pretty much everyone bought some silver (the town was built on a mine) except me. The cathedral there was incredible as was the mountain backdrop. Lu’s dad parked the car at a hilltop hotel and we went down into the city on a cable car.

Back in Mexico we stayed at the apartment in Polanco again for one night before heading back to Houston. First thing the next morning I drove back out to Bush airport to fly to Philadelphia and meet Tim Walls so we could apartment hunt. Our prey, a cool place to live, was stealthy and sly, but by-george we did trap’er in the end.

Actually, by Friday night (the second day) we thought we had nailed just the place. A spacious pretty apartment right in Rittenhouse Square (18th & Locust) over a bar … an apartment that had it’s own bar and barstools, as a matter of fact. The bar owner himself was to be our landlord and he was a really nice guy … he had, in fact, gone back to finish his college degree at Penn in his 40s and knew some of my future professors. It was ideal, really. Only problem is that the guy wants to go to the Poconos and insists on putting off lease signing until Sunday night.

In the meantime we went to explore Philadelphia, see “Hustle & Flow” (excellent film about a Memphis hip-hop artist/ small time pimp, which was much better that I expected), and take a day trip to NYC on Saturday. There we saw two really cool shows at the Upright Citizens Brigade theater and went to a rooftop barbecue in Hell’s Kitchen given by a friend of Tim’s from Knoxville, a cool guy named Dan Abram who also went to film school in Austin and seems to be up to cool stuff. Later Dan took us to an actual speakeasy on 53rd, a very mod joint with some nice fixtures and interesting imported beers.

But back to the real estate adventure: Sunday morning we went to a couple more places, just in case, then Tim convinced me to see a place just south of South Street in Queen’s Village. Well, hell, after all my thinking about where to live and showing Tim around the city, he really did find the best place. He had a killer instinct that definitely bested my knowledge of Philadelphia completely. We got a great apt/house on S. 3rd near the TLA w/ private courtyard, 2 stories, working fireplace, you name it. An absolute dream of a place, at least to me. So I had to call back the bar owner from 18th street and get bitched out in the best Philly fashion, but it was worth it. (Incidentally, we also saw a great customer-owner fight at Pat’s Steaks later that day. Welcome back!)

So now I’ve been back in Houston a week. My home of 3+ years, the place that stirs up so many ambivalent emotions for me. In a few weeks I’ll drive out of here alone with my car packed to the brim with shit … I’ll leave just the way I came. So much has happened here that at many points I thought it would feel really different to leave. But actually it feels pretty much the same. Different, but the same. Things have changed in me and in my life, but a lot of the changes didn’t stick. My brain feels roughly the same inside the skin of my skull and I feel like I leave with the same mix of knowing and mis-guided confidence in my ability to tackle the shit ahead. For both better and worse, even on bad days, the inside-inside of my head still banters a Bush-like “Bring it on.”

Changes in Houston. Few. Hot as hell. My fourth of these Augusts and the last I want to experience really. My old roommates Chris and Emilie apparently broke up in July. As of yet, I know little about it, mostly from Emilie since I haven’t spoken to Chris. It’s a very surreal thing after they spent so many years together and quite a long time living with me, frankly. But, well, who knows, it may work out. I hardly know what to say about it …

Shit does change. No doubt.

Big Wheel.

In the LRC I have a new “boss” Richard Odum. I put boss in quotations because he’s still training and I only have a few weeks left, so I’m hardly in a position of subordinance. Very interesting guy, ex-Navy language instructor and recent divorcé … he is WAY more talkative than I would have expected. He’s already told me everything about his personal life, his youth, the configuration of submarines, Bosnian cuisine, southern microbrews, the merits of the flat tax, the strengths and weaknesses of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriends, the growth potential of China, the ideal price of a deli lunch, and more than I ever thought I’d know about Navy hierarchy. It almost seems like the guy is desperate to be thoroughly known by me, which is a shame because to him I’m a passing ship, so to speak. Har dee har har.

In other news my friend from pizza delivery days Alethea Struve up and moved to Austin to take a job with Dell and transfer to Texas. I’m so happy for her … she’s wanted this for a long time even though a certain self-labeled incredible performer Kat Moon of Diedrich’s Montrose is going to miss her very much. I’ve already been thinking about living with Lea in Austin next summer to spend more time with my brother and sister-in-law.

Saturday was interesting. Lu’s friend Joy who is visiting from Japan threw her a going away party at Zake’s (the constantly-changing Japanese place at W. Alabama & Shepherd). Absolutely a blast. Everyone was doing sake bombs (sake splooshed in Asahi or Kirin) and writing notes on the back of polaroids, as well as blowing bubbles and making genitals from Play-Doh. Afterwards we went to Spotlight Karaoke on Fountain View where we had a private room and everyone was about as uninhibited as I’ve seen a big group of people in a while. Fun as hell. Even I was grabbing for the mike, and I consider karaoke a scary monster under my bed.

Afterwards, I had a bit of a run-in with an asshole cop in itty-bitty bike shorts when I made a run through Chacho’s a block away. First he yelled at me fiercer than a Philadelphian when I stood my car in a handicapped spot (Lu was inside, the hazards were on, and the engine was running, … not to mention the fact that three other handicapped spots were available). Then, when I moved my car into the drive-thru instead, the guy in front of me decided to turn around and leave the line, so I had to back up to give him room to do his 700-point turn. At this point the cop raps on my window and harasses the hell out of me for my “erratic” driving and tries to convince Lu that, “Mam, you should get out of the car for your own safety.” I was incensed. There was no way not to have an attitude with this guy because he would ask questions like, “Is this car even insured?” and not give me a chance to answer. We actually had once exchange that went like this:

Him: “Where are you coming from?”
Me: “A karaoke bar down the stree-“
Him (interrupting): “I said WHERE are you coming from?”
Me: “A karaoke bar down the street called-“
Him: “What’s the NAME of the bar, son?”
Me: (just desperate to get smart with this guy.) Spotlight is the name of the bar down the street.

Anyway, no biggie I guess. I got my nachos and that’s the important thing. Dude in paradise. In sum, the weekend was great. I went back to improv Sunday and I’ll be getting a chance to do another show before I leave Houston, in a couple of weeks. Rehearsal is tomorrow. This makes me so happy, just because I have so much work this month and so much to take care of in preparation for the move, so this really gives me a reason to be here … in addition to being with some people I really want to hang out with. I’ll also be taking one more trip to Austin this weekend to see Wilson and Carrie while they’re still close and celebrate their one-year wedding anniversary. Amazing thing, no?

What else? Friday marked and important DVD purchase, my first for myself (except for one I bought in order to write a paper once): Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train. I’m really curious to see how his new movie with Bill Murray is. Hopefully better than Coffee and Cigarettes. Also would like to see the other Memphis movies I’ve heard are out, Forty Shades of Blue and Loggerheads. Anybody seen ‘em?