Vaguely ashamed of my menial servitude, partially elated.

Due to the impending crisis of college tution, retirement on the horizon and global warming reeking havoc upon our lives, I have decided my days must be spent earning something when my relatively lucrative self employment is not happening. I have taken a part time job working on the renovation of a friend's new building, an industrial space destined to be used as a manufacturing facility. Demolition is a little bit fun, and very filthy.

Before

After

Return to the Orgy of the Strange Oblong Ball

I get paid to do field audio. Sometimes it is a long grind of many hours. Sometimes it is a boondoggle. The NFC Championship for some audio guys was a grind. I spoke with one mixer whose call time was 2:00 AM and he was there until 9:00 PM wrap, and worked his ass off much of the time. My experience was the opposite: our call time was 1:30 PM and we only had to do post game, leaving us to partake of the full buffet lunch in the press box and wander the field and stadium, enjoying our all access photo field passes. Sort of like getting to eat just desert for dinner. It was a strange intersection of celebrity and wealth and sports. All the standard sports talking heads: Joe Buck and Troy Aikman (both overly made up for camera),  multiple suited and expensively over coated league officials and 1% masters of the universe strutting around. Macklemore and Ryan Lewis were everywhere. Watching the Macklemore halftime show from the end zone. I was vaguely aware of a guy in a 49ers hat and coat standing next to me. A guy from the SF bench walked by and shook his hand "Hi Mr. Wilson!" I immediately thought of Dennis The Menace next door neighbor. I turned and looked and it was in fact Owen Wilson. The post game in the Seahawks locker room was surprisingly sedate.

End result Seattle millionaires beat San Francisco millionaires to the pleasure of the masses in Seattle.

Operation MINOTAUR is GO

I have purchased a cruck. A 1981 Chevrolet El Camino. Be it man? Or beast? 

It was retrieved from the netherworld of Yelm, WA, (home of Ramtha- ancient mystical spirit warrior and for-profit gift shop) by myself and Johnny "the Boot" Pai on Sunday, January 5th, 2014.

Crank up Zeppelin, fire up the Lucky Strikes, and get me a beer: so begins my midlife crisis

I have chosen to name the car "Harry Dean" after Harry Dean Stanton, the poster child of 1980's independent film: