Christmas us coming!

Oh da lay, Christmas is on the way. We are well under way getting ready for the Christmas holidays. Last night Rachel spent 3 hours wrapping presents while I put the 5X7 pictures of kids on Santa's lap in matching addressed envelopes. We have a ton of presents in my bedroom, but no tree. We decided that a tree was going to be a lot of effort with very little payoff since we'll be gone until January. This weekend we go to San Antonio for a family Christmas party, next weekend is Houston for a friend's party. On the 24th, I get to work from 8-5, and then I'm completely done until January 7th. We leave for Mexico on the 26th for Jaomi and Jessica's wedding and get the hang there until we come back on the 2nd. I absolutely can't wait to get to San Miguel. To be honest, i really couldn't care less about Christmas, this year it's all about San Miguel. I was there 2 summers ago and wanted to move there I loved it so much.

So, it's going to be a long month. I have two certification tests to take next week which I'm going to have to somehow find the time to study for this weekend, an impossible task of over 1200 pages of technical documentation to read. Leopard Client and Server Essentials. Doesn't that sound fun? I think a bullet in the foot would be less painful.

And speaking of pain, I had a strange dream last night. My teeth were all loose, especially my bottom right canine. It freaked me out, so I was frantically brushing my teeth, (in the dream) and the toothpaste kept foaming and foaming, it was like I had Diet Coke and Mentos in my mouth. As I was spitting out the foam, I spit out blood and teeth along with it. Oddly enough, it was only the bottom right side of my mouth that was all gums.

Tonight is Carey and Amy's dinner party, lets the games begin. I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas, and New Year, we'll be in touch!

And now, a photographer

If getting paid to do a job is what qualifies a person as a "professional" at that job, then I suppose after this weekend, I became a "professional" photographer. It's something I've always enjoyed doing, taking pictures, but more as a hobby rather than a way of making money. After Saturday, I think I'm in the wrong line of work. I'm not going to be tacky and state how much I made, but it's basically the same as one of my paychecks I get from Apple every two weeks. I couldn't believe it! Now, I'm no professional, and to be quite honest, I don't think the pictures turned out as well as I would have liked. If this is something I'm going to continue, I will definitely need to invest in some better lighting!

The guy playing Santa was an interesting fella as well. A psycho-therapist by day, a clown, magician and Santa by night. I don't know what he really looked like, but a nicer guy I've never met. We sat around between pictures taking about comic books, Sci-Fi, and being right brained. I remember thinking to myself, "I could BE this guy in 20 years."

In seeing 85 small children in a row, I was surprised at how different their little personalities were. Some were terrified of Santa, others acted embarrassed, while even more were as excited as they could be. Sure, I knew kids had personalities before Saturday, but I had no idea how distinct, developed, and unique they could all be at such young ages. Needless to say, it was a lot of fun.

R.I.P Souly

Today I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life. Starting Wednesday of the holiday break, Souly started to throw up. It happened once Wednesday and once Thursday, but it wasn't until Friday that we really noticed a change in him. He seemed a bit mopey, and he threw up twice that day. He had just been to the vet for his annual shots on Tuesday, so I thought that he must just be having a bad reaction to his medication. I thought we could wait until Monday to take him back to the vet and have him looked at. Rachel and I left my parents house on Saturday so that she could pack and get ready for her trip to Florida for the week. That night, last night he must have thrown up 7-8 times. I was literally following him around with a bucket catching it when I could. He wouldn't eat anything, and anytime he drank he just threw it up. I took away his water at about 2 am, hoping that he wouldn't throw up again before the morning. He did.

This morning he was wobbly, and by now he felt like he was just skin and bone. This was the third day of not really eating or being able to drink. Rachel and i loaded up the car and headed to the airport, and on the way home from dropping her off I got a terrible, sick feeling in my stomach. My eyes started to tear and I thought, "What if he's dead when I get home?" I walked in the door and was so relieved when he lifted his head when i walked in. I cleaned his water bowl out, filled it with fresh water and took him and Padme outside for some fresh air. He drank a little, held it down, then drank some more. He walked around the yard, and though he was shaky, he seemed to be a little bit better.

I brought him in, and he seemed fine for almost an hour, then he threw up again. "That's it!" I said. "We're not waiting anymore." I couldn't stand it, I wasn't going to let him go three days without food or water. I grabbed his leash and we headed out to the car. He had a little trouble getting in, but he always loves going for a ride. The emergency clinic was just a few exits down and actually pretty busy, the vet was able to get to us pretty quickly. Everyone was really nice, and the vet had me listen to Souly's heart after she did.

"His heart rate is running at 170," she told me, "It should normally run around 80-100." This meant that he was in a lot of pain. She said that his stomach was hard and that she needed to do an x-ray to be sure. Sure enough there was some kind of blockage in his stomach. They couldn't be sure if it was a foreign object, or some kind of growing mass, but either way it was going to require surgery. This would entail admitting him, and having IV fluids for 2-3 days so that he wouldn't go into surgery dehydrated. A dog of 13 years old though, had no guarantee that he could even survive a procedure like that.

I now had a choice to make. I could let nature take it's course, and he would die in a couple of days from starvation or dehydration. I could turn him over to a vet to possibly live his last remaining days in a kennel, sedated, and lonely. or I could end it now before he suffered anymore. I took him for a walk. We walked all over the place for about 30 minutes before it began to look like he couldn't do it anymore. We went back to the vet and I told her that I was ready. Souly and I sat there on the floor together for about 20 minutes. He laid his head in my lap and I cried. I cried harder that I have in a long time and it hurt so much to say goodbye. The vet came it and asked me if I was ready. All I could do was nod my head. He already had a catheter in his leg, so he didn't even feel the injection. The vet stayed there, listening to his heart the whole time. He slowly drifted off to sleep, I pet him, told him he was a good dog and just held his head in my lap.

"He's gone." she said. It seemed like it took forever, but it happened so fast.

We wrapped him up and took him in a stretcher out to my car. By the time I got to my parents house my brothers had already dug a hole for him. He was buried at the back of their property with brick for a headstone and his leash wrapped around it. Even though it was 9 o'clock at night, pitch black, raining, and cold we all went out and said goodbye.

I got Souly my Sophomore year at SWT in San Marcos in 1994. He was with me since college and pretty much all of my adult life. He saved my ass several times when we lived in New Orleans, and was probably the best dog I'll ever own. He was always top dog everywhere he went and never once backed out of a fight. He loved to go on walks, loved to ride in the car and go swimming, but couldn't care less about playing fetch. He was my best friend, and oldest companion. He will be missed.

A Tragic End

As most of you already know I run a very small one man computer consulting business outside of my full time job at Apple. Usually the work comes in small batches, and I typically have only four customers that I deal with on any kind of a regular basis. Saturday I was picking up a computer to fix for Maudie's, and was headed over to another client's house for a scheduled appointment. I was about 15 minutes away from their house and decided I should call to make sure they were expecting me. These particular customer had a history of being drunk when they made appointments, and a lot of times didn't even remember setting them up. It goes without saying that they were usually drunk when I arrived as well. I may have even blogged about my past experiences with them in the past, I don't recall, but this was my conversation with Sue on Saturday.

"Hey Sue, it's Ben. How's it going? You guys ready for me to come by?"

"Doug's dead. I found him 45 minutes ago in his bed, he has no pulse and he's dead. EMS is here right now working on him, but he's gone, that's why they won't tell me anything."

"Oh my God, Susan, I'm so sorry! What can I do, can I bring you anything?"

"No, no, I don't know what to do, I mean, he's dead, they can't bring him back, I have to go."

"Ok, I'm so sorry. Call me if I can do anything for you."

Suffice to say, I'm glad I called before going over there. I haven't heard anything since then, but as you can imagine, that pretty much set the tone for the rest of my weekend, not to mention Susan's. If you're into that sort of thing, say a quick prayer for their families.

10/23*UPDATED*

Just found out a little while that Doug is indeed alive, but remains unconscious. He appears to be brain dead, but they are putting him through a brain scan today to see if there is any activity.

10/25 Update

Doug never woke up. They took him off of life support and he died 16 hours later, yesterday morning.

Tanglewood

The second annual Halloween in Tanglewood extravaganza has come to a close. Two nights in the woods and the cold doing nothing but sleeping and drinking and poking the fire has never been so exhausting! We arrived just after nightfall on Friday night, only to find out that SOMEONE forgot our tent. The one thing you really need when spending 2 nights in the middle of dense woods. It was ok though, James brought an extra. In all there were about 20 people out in Tanglewood. It was only our second trip out there, but James' family bought and have been camping on this land for the last 30 years. It now has a running outdoor shower, (with warm water) a kitchen, and the beginnings of a small house in the back. It's really nice not to have to poo in the woods!

Saturday was relaxing until it got dark and a few people decided to go late night 4-wheeling. Tiffany came back with a really bruised up foot, so James and I loaded her into the truck and drove out to the Rockdale emergency room. She has a pretty bad sprain, and a tiny piece of bone floating around in the top of her foot, but she's going to make it!

Sunday I didn't even let Souly out of the car. My mean old dog picked a fight every chance he got, and now I can't trust him. I've had him since 1994, and apparently when dogs get older, they get meaner. I love him, but if Rachel and I had a child, he would be retired at my parents house by now. I swear, he didn't used to be like that, but now, he's just so territorial and crodgedy that he can barely be controlled. Oh well. From now on he only goes if no one else does.

Worst River Trip Ever

Worst River Trip Ever

It was a Saturday like any other Saturday morning, typically when we float we try to leave the house by 10 or 11. Jason and I were hanging out in Austin, while our wives had spent the evening in San Antonio visiting a friend and hanging out on the Riverwalk. All of us had imbibed our own fair share of alcohol the night before, so we were off to a late start. We decided to all meet at the HEB in New Braunfels to gather our beer and 16 quart coolers for the trip. By the time we had all met and sluffed everything together, Kelly tells us that while at the Riverwalk the night before, she ran into her boss, who invited himself along for the trip. While the rest of us were rearing to go, Bossman, Larry hadn't even shown up yet. Kelly assured us that she had just spoken to him and that he was on his way.

Twenty minutes later he and his wife finally arrived, and it was quickly encroaching on 1pm. All I could think was, "I should be on my back in the water by now!" But Larry was there, all 6 ft 5 inches, 320 pounds of him, and his wife, who wasn't exactly petite. I have nothing against large people, but their size come into play later on in the story. Unfortunately, his arrival was only the beginning, not the end of the waiting game, as he arrived with nothing. No beer, no cooler, no sunscreen, or a hat. The pair had never been on a river trip, and had no idea what they should bring.

We quickly showed them what we had packed. We had coolers, water guns, cigarettes, Tecate, sliced limes, water, extra lighters, plastic bags, sunscreen, plastic bottle full of vodka, and a few juice bottles. You know, standard river trip inventory. So, Larry had to go inside HEB to grab a few things. It took them half a fucking hour to emerge from the store, another 10 minutes to get in the car and follow us to the launch. Fine, it was all fine, we were on the way.

Jason and I had a brief discussion as to where we were going to launch. I preferred Landa Park, since it was on the Comal and always had plenty of parking. However, Jason wanted to go down the Guadalupe, since he hadn't been down that river in a few years. Unfortunately, since neither of us had been down the Guadalupe in a few years, neither of us knew exactly where to go to launch our tubes into the river. We drove around aimlessly for a few minutes, then I remembered that we could go through downtown Gruene to get to Rockin-R. Well, at 2:30, the traffic in Gruene was horrendous, not to mention we had a caravan of 3 more cars following us. A few wrong turns, and the caravan turned on us. Jason remembered where he wanted to launch from, but by then other members of our caravan had decided to take advantage of the fact that they could SEE the tube launch and left us behind. Jason was getting pretty mad, but he followed them into the cluster-fuck that is Rockin-R.

We had finally arrived. We paid the $20 per car to park, and another 30 minutes later we were ready to get into the water, almost. Once again, Larry and his wife were the last in line, but that's what happens when you rent an inflatable canoe, rather that a tube. That's right a canoe. As Larry caught up with the group and struggled to fit his wide ass into a narrow canoe, he made what I thought at the time was a joke, "They asked me if I could swim and I said yes! He he he he." After a few minutes more, his wife was in the boat as well, however, due to their large sizes, they couldn't fit into the boat they way they were supposed to, like sitting on the seats, so they had to sit in the center, back to back.

The weather was gloomy. The sun had tucked itself in behind the clouds, and it was chilly getting colder. It quickly became apparent that neither of them had ever operated any type of boat before. Both of them were paddling on the right side, but since they were back to back, they just went in circles. We laughed a little and tried to give them some pointers, I guess it was more common sense than anything else. I tried to lighten the mood a little bit by busting out the water cannon. This was a mistake, and I was immediately yelled at. Larry's wife had, within the last 30 days, had BRAIN SURGURY, and was not allowed to get her head or ears wet.

Are you all caught up? Fat couple, little boat, on the river, one can't swim, the other can't get wet, and neither know how to sit in a boat, much less steer it. Can you guess what happens next?

We hit the first set of rapids, and I decide to hang back a little bit to make sure everyone makes it through. It's a little rough, but the boat makes it down and I'm right behind them. The current shoots me past them and they look fine. Leila and Jason are still behind me so I'm not worried; it's just a few little waves and a good while until the next set of rapids. The next thing I hear is "SPLASH!" and a blood curdling, "LARRY!! LARY!!" I turn to look and there is the canoe, empty. I have no idea how these two possible fell out, but they managed it. The current was still moving fast, so I dumped my tube and started swimming toward the bank. Leila and Jason had the same idea. Larry is barely holding himself above water. His arms are like dead wet noodles barely slapping at the water. Not only was he not kidding about not being able to swim, but him was about to drown because he was to lazy to TRY! I've seen people about to drown before, hell, I've done it myself, and when the panic kicks in, you're arms are flailing, slapping at the water, doing anything and everything you can to stay above water. This guy was pathetic. He was about to die because he didn't have the energy to move his arms. Fortunately, Leila was able to grab him and pull his arm over her tube. The two of them floated down a little ways and were able to pull up to and embankment.

Meanwhile, Larry's wife and Jason were still a little ways back. They had recovered the boat, but she was crying and hysterical. She insisted that she be allowed to leave immediately, she was not floating down this river any more. Jason called her down, and explained to her that the only way off the river was down it. There was no place to go but to get back in the boat and ride it out to the end. She finally stopped crying, got back into the boat, and allowed Jason to guide her down to where everyone else was waiting. She immediately started yelling at Larry in Arabic, with a few mixed English words and phrases like, "Why would you do this to me?" "Are you trying to kill me?" and, "This is the worst day of my life!"

We managed to get everyone calmed down, and my wife, Rebecca had reached her limit. She took a paddle, got into the back of the boat and said she was taking them to the end. Zoom, zoom, and they were gone, leaving the rest of us to just float and enjoy the rest of the trip.

Then it started to rain.

On a sunny day, this isn't so bad. However, it was already cold, the water was already faster than I had ever seen it, and the sun had barely made an appearance all day. It this point all I could do was curl up into my tube as best as I could, float, and drink some more vodka. After a few shots I lost everyone else, and after what seemed like an hour, I eventually bumped into a raft full of frat kids. "Are you alright?" One of them asked. "Y-Y-Yeah, I-I-I'm g-g-good." I said. They offered me a beer, a cigarette, and said I could hang on to the back of their raft. Things were looking up.

These kids paddled along with me hanging onto their backside for a little while, and up ahead there was a huge gathering of frat boys and sorority girls rafts. Keep in mind, these rafts are full size white water rafting boats. Each one has from 6-10 kids on each one, and they are having a blast. I'm watching a group of kids a few boats over that has one girl and 6 guys on the boat. The girl takes her top off, leans backwards over the side and wraps her legs around one of the guys. She sits up for a second, grabs him by the hair and pulls his face into her crotch. He eats her out for a few seconds, raises his head, and she immediately sits up, pulls his shorts down and starts giving him head.

This is why I do not float the Guadalupe. I fucking hate the people on that river. Needless to say, as soon as all of this started to unfold, I detached from my boat and continued to float on down the river. Another 45 minutes or so pass and I see Rebecca, Larry, his wife, and Kelly all chilled out on an island. We can see the exit point just a few hundred yards ahead, so we stop and wait for Jason and Leila to catch up. Once we have everyone together, it's time to head in. The current has increased quite a bit, so I hop out of the water and tell Larry to get into my tube. I get into the boat and paddle strait up to the launch. Somehow, along the way, Larry managed to fall out of the tube, so I threw him a life jacket and told him to hang on! I steered to boat up the embankment, helped Larry's wife out of the boat and carried their stinking canoe up to the trailer. I looked back and Larry is just barely getting out of the water, leaving my tube and towel behind. I wanted to kill him.

Instead, I started to cross the bridge to get back to the car. About half way across, watching as other people were trying to get out of the river, it became apparent that the current was increasing a lot. Cops are screaming at frat boys, "Steer to the left!! THE LEFT!" The ones that are to dumb or drunk to listen get their entire boat slammed into the side of the bridge. There were about a dozen cops standing on the side of the bridge pulling kids up and out of the water. We made our way to the cars and started packing up. Larry and his wife asked, "So, what is everyone doing after this?"

"We're going HOME!"

A Long Time Ago, in a Lifetime Far, Far Away. . .

My parents were both raised born and married in New Orleans, so no matter where I've lived, I'll always be a cajun boy. Shortly before I was born, we moved to Phoenix, where my father began his 20 year career working for Motorola. I was born there, but by the time I was just a few months old we had moved to Austin. I have always wished that we had gotten here just a little bit earlier, as I have lived here all of my life, and have absolutely no ties to Arizona at all.

By the time I was 3 years old we had moved to the country halfway between Bastrop and Austin. Every boy should have a chance to live in the woods. I learned to shoot a gun and bow, hunted rabbit, squirrels, birds, and fished every chance I had. I started out in the Cub Scouts when I was only 5, went through Boy Scouts all the way through graduating as an Eagle Scout when I was 16.

Before graduating from high school I only knew 2 things: Boy Scouts and Theatre. I attended summer camp at Lost Pines every year, and worked on staff there the last three. I was a swimming and lifeguard instructor, organized campfires, and orchestrated leadership training seminars for hundreds of boys. During the school year I was also involved with the school theatre program. I competed in U.I.L. One Act Play, taking Best Actor on several occasions all the way up to Region. I even performed at the Bastrop Opera House community theatre dozens of times as the leading boy. Then, I went to college. In 1993, Southwest Texas State University had already been notorious for being a party school for years. I was there as a BFA Acting Major. What? No audition I had ever been to cared either way if you had a degree in acting. No job I have ever applied for since wanted someone who had a degree in acting either. Long story short, after much debauchery, and late nights, I decided to get out of town. There was no point in getting that degree, so I dropped out of school to get my head clear.

I decided to go home, but not back to Bastrop. I decided to go to my home away from home, the place I had spent every summer, Thanksgiving, and Christmas; New Orleans. My Grandfather had begun to loose his battle with cancer, so my mom and I moved in with him for a month or so until he passed away. After the funeral, my mother left went back to Texas and I stayed behind to try school again. By now, it was 1998 and I had been working in restaurants for 9 years, (an actor that waits tables? Unheard of!) so I decided to attend Delgado Culinary Institute and become a Chef. I continued to work in restaurants, on Bourbon Street as a waiter, and at South Shore yacht club as a bar manager. No matter what anyone ever tells you, there is no staying out of trouble as long as you work in the restaurant industry. While there, I met a few members of the Junior Mafia, and continued the same lifestyle I had been living at SWT. Clearing my head I was not.

After 2 years of N.O., I finally called my Mom and crawled home with my tail between my legs. I lived the sober life, I even took a job working for MCI selling long distance. . . for about 6 months. Then there was Earl. They called him the Tyler Rose. You may know him better as the infamous Earl Campbell. He decided to open a restaurant on Austin's 6th Street, I decided to get back into it. I moved out of my parent's house and back into Austin, and though I did manage to get into some trouble, I met some of the closest friends I have to this day. Rick, Jody, Missi, Donald, and the love of my life, Rachel.

I worked in several places after Earl's. Austin Java Co. at The Backyard, (a great venue) CRS, and finally, my new home away from home, Maudie's Cafe. I love those people. After living here for 30 years It was you Maudie's people that finally made me feel like Austin is my home. Well, I finally had to grow up and think about the future. The future of my life, my wife, and someday, my children. So here I am. After 15 years of working in bars and restaurants, giving up my dream of becoming a famous actor, and experiencing more in 10 years than most people see in a lifetime I can finally take a breath.

Now, I'm trying to take it as easy as I know how to. I work at a little fruit stand called Apple. I’ve been there for two years now and have taken to computer technical support like the natural. I’ve scrambled up the promotions ladder, and now I’m training on servers to support corporate customers. I even started my own company called Mouton Solutions, where I provide on-site technical support to restaurants and individuals. It’s been a slow start, but I’m optimistic.

I'm still known to get a little too crazy on the weekends, but I've been going to church lately, reading more, and trying to do anything I can to ease my troubled mind. If you made it all the way to the bottom of this blurb, you may be a little bit too interested in other people's lives. If so, can I recommend one of my therapists?