There’s another term, I just learned, “Showcase.” I was going to reserve that for a horoscope, but I figure it’s not really a suitable metaphor and allegory.

“Showcase,” means the band is playing for free. Still a cover charge, but that goes to the promoter/venue and any one else but the starving artist.

Showcase: that’s why Austin is Live Music Sweatshop of the World.

El Paso:
Where I’m at, check the schedule, “El Paso: WTF” then Sat & Sun, too.

Brains!
Realistically, it was probably a Fourth of July window display, or some other spring-time Fiesta event. I know the image isn’t really what it appears to be, but every time I see it, I think, “BRAINS!”

Austin: Live Music Sweatshop of the World is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

ASARCO, in El Paso, from the freeway, cf., Cristo del Rey.

Location: I-10, eastbound
Hardware: iPhone
Software: CameraBag App.

Travel & Schedule

SkyFriday.com is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

Mighty Fine Burger

Sepia Scene

“How ya doin’?”

“Mighty fine! Kinda corny innit?”

Sepia Burger Bag is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

Cops in El Paso:
I still miss my friend who is an El Paso cop, once assigned to airport duty.

Last time at the airport, it was there I saw the “ghost of Kramer past,” in the airport, waiting on my delayed flight. The man was dressed in all black, as in black Levi’s, black purse, black t-shirt with the white, bold lettering of some band.

I looked at his face. He was obviously a “white” boy, but he was deeply tan from either a tanning bed or almost daily exposure to bright Southwestern sun. He moved with a kind of confidence, like he owned his space. He knew what he was doing and he was familiar with his body. Long, long hair, but thinning at the top, just enough so that his face was tan but exposed scalp, like at his make-shift part, that was sunburned.

Thin, certainly thinner than I am now, his apparent grace and comfort within his surroundings indicated he was at ease. Travel was part of his world, late planes or not.

There was a “heavy metal” vibe to his appearance, real or imagined. The long hair, the tan skin, the restless nature. Tall, kind of lanky, it was as I appeared a decade ago.

The subtle seams in his face, the crinkles around his eyes, only indication of true age. Otherwise, his demeanor and clothing could be a much younger man.

I was going to describe a mother I watched, from where I was sitting, I could see that there was a problem with the way she applied makeup. With two children, in tow, it was a wonder she had time for makeup at all. Little children, old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to fend for themselves.

The line along her jaw, the first time I thought it was a trick of the light, and instead, it was just a layer of war paint that didn’t work quite right.

The ghost of myself was really spooky because I was going to bemoan the loss of my airport cop friend. Scorpio. No, she’s still a cop, and she’s still very cool and in touch, but she doesn’t have the airport beat any longer.

Seeing her one time, a big hello and her partner looking askance at my disheveled appearance, as compared to her warm welcome, the taser jokes and apparent intimate knowledge – she’s a client – I don’t “do” Scorpio’s – or cops – that whole scene is one of the happier airport moments etched in my mind.

Looking at a ghost image of myself, a decade earlier, later, made me understand more about myself.

“To be in the process of change is not evil, any more than to be the product of change is good.” Book IV, #42
Marcus Aurelius

Six Dollar Ads:
What can be had for 6 dollars, or even less?

Better yet? More than 30% price reduction? FourDollarSite.com (click here).

Hint: fun internet marketing tricks.

There’s always a full month’s subscription to the horoscopes, too.

Single Image Link:
This is precisely what thrills me about San Antonio and Bexar County, the ubiquitous simple side project.

A warm day in the fall. I’d taken off in a pointless meandering route to reach a church, or a historic location, or a church that was historic. Who knows? Something. Between the giant freeway lanes and below the radar, in a marginal neighborhood, that lad, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, was poised. I’m not sure if it is antique lawn art, pop art, advertising, or some clever combination of all three.

sixer is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

Algerian Coffee Soho

I nodded.

“Cat Scratch Fever was here, too,” he appraised me, “had on leather pants. I’m not kidding, a snakeskin looking hat and all. He was cool.”

“Got my picture taken – what’s his name – the guy who got shot in The Godfather, if I hadn’t said it, I could tell you his name. Right between the eyes.”

Lost in SoHo:
With Sister. Then it happened, she said, “This way, I recognize that store,” and I suggested she was wrong.

She did recognize the store; it was an arts’ supply store. Direction was off, though. We were wandering back from running over to the Algerian Coffee Shop (since 1887). Very cool, very entertaining store. A kind of coffee lover paradise for me. I just stood and gaped.

However, she finally produced a map, and we navigated homeward.

“Say it,” I said.

“You were right.” She muttered.

“Please, please, say it again?”

“You were right. You were right, you were right. Don’t get used to this.”

Doubt I will.

However, we are both quite directionally impaired; it’s genetic.

Red Monday is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

I’ve yet to figure this out, “Austin means traffic congestion.” The two are synonymous. Outside of the downtown district? Parking, always an issue.

Austin, TX.

Wolf Hall
What an excellent find in the book store, epic in scope, and it was that nice little Sagittarius girl.

“I’ve got a degree in English Literature and I swore I’d never do this, work in a bookstore,” but then we discussed British authors, and I was looking for something British, and I walked away with a few books, but this one is especially good.
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel (shortlisted for the Booker)

‘England was alway, the cardinal says, a miserable country, home to an outcast and abandoned people, who are working slowly towards their deliverance, and who are visited by God with special tribulations.’
p. 125-6

My version? Uphill. In the snow. Barefoot. Mind you, it was uphill both ways.

The other time, same bookstore, decade earlier, I found a title by some Brit, sort of fiction/travel material, a little picaresque, about British lad traveling Texas. Would like to find something like that again. A few years back it was the Mexican Revolution history, rather a good read. Just never know.

Austin y Mas is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon

Previously, astrofish.co.uk dumped to astrofish.net. As an exercise, I ran my odd collection of images from England, mostly just a London borough, into a back directory and served it off the family’s old website. Sort of a back-end hack.

Sooner or later, maybe never, but I’m wagering soon enough, I’ll need to find a new home for the image index. Since I already have the name and the technology to just run this out as a single, daily entry image, a photo-blog of London, I could do that.

I think I’ve got enough images to do a single image every day for about two years. Probably more than that, but as I’ve noted before?

Not every picture is good.

Texas Legation to the Court St. James

Austin:
Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but Austin, as a home-town, it’s a bit strange.

Travel broadens horizons, there’s something about the way it all works. Going is good but getting home is good, too.

The overseas flight just fries my brain. Basically, I’m up for 24 hours without a lot to do. Read a book. Got a good one to read. Had a great revelation, alas, it’s lost in the porous memory membrane.

Final Notes:
(as if)
There’s a near permanent display at the Museum of London that I regrettably missed this last trip. Even better, it ties to a recent Roman excavation near the original wall for the Roman City of London. It’s a stone carved astrology wheel, and I was thinking – since I didn’t visit it this time – or its original location – that I was considering its archetype energy. The 12-part wheel, each slice defined by a constellation’s name and figure, how this carries meaning, to me, to this day.

The charts I read….

The piece is from a Temple of the Cult of Mithras.

Shy Town:
Long layover. Flight was early to arrive, late to leave. Had me some ‘dirty (Asian) rice.’ This is America, I’m unsure of the native language being spoken behind the counter, but I’m pretty sure, while it was Mandarin, or Korean, or Vietnamese, even, I’m pretty sure the speakers were long-time US citizens. Just a hunch. Remember, last time I had dirty rice with unknown animal parts, tasted like chicken, it was on the street in Camden Town. This was Chicago’s O’Hara International. The funny event with the security guard? Outside? Never mind.

The price was about the same, 4 pounds, 8 bucks with tax, the quality, about the same with a nod towards the Camden Lock version as tastier. The difference? In America, the serving size was twice as large. Therein is the difference.

astrofish.co.uk is a post from: astrofish.net/xenon