Watershed

Guavaween

I only took a couple of pictures at Guavaween over the weekend, so I will upload them soon -- tonight, maybe.

But I wanted to post the enduring images of the night:

The Shy Madman
The Shy Madman -- dressed in a spotted white coveral and streaks of bloody red facepaint -- was sitting at the table next to us at the Greek restaurant in the middle of the street fest.   He had two other people dining with him, a nice devil couple.  But he was more interested in the Good Witch Waitress.  He sort of flirted, and when she made a disparaghin joke about a (real) cop, he picked up his chair and took a couple of running steps down the street, as if he would chair bash the cop.

Shy Madman Flirting, you see.  He's too shy to compliment her beyond a certain point ("I like yer costume."), but acting out being a mad attack dog for her needs is do-able.

I am fairly certain the Shy Madman did not get the Good Witch Waitress' phone number or email.

Unending Lines of Rainbow Brites
For some reason, there were lots of Rainbow Brites out Saturday night.  Rie, who was with me,  had thought about coming as Rainbow Brite herself. 

"It's a costume that only appeals to women between the ages of 25 and 30," she said.

I believe we counted 8 of them, but the only one that stands out was the Rainbow Brite who had painted on a fake cheek bruise, a bloody lip, and a single trickle of blood from her nose.  That's right:  Domestic Abuse Rainbow Brite.

"Fake Cop or Real Cop?" /  "Fake Cop."
For some reason, there were lots of fake cops out.  Maybe to fake arrest all the fake pimps.  It got to the point where every time we saw a fake cop, I would ask Rie, the former cops reporter, "Fake cop or real cop?"  And she would answer instantly, "Fake cop."

This amused me, because I am easily amused.

Real Cop, Fake Gun
The funniest encounter was watching a Real Cop drag a Fake Miami Vice Don Johnson Cop down the street, while inspecting Fake Miami Vice Don Johnson's Fake Automatic Pistol.  Fake Miami Vice Don Johnson was pleading his case and hoping to get his Fake Pistol back, and the Real COp was clearly not having any of it.

And that was Guavaween.

Bearssss

On a totally separate topic, I am amazed at how well the Bears are doing.  I have only seen highlights, because I have not let football viewing get in the way of actually DOING things.  But I would have liked to have seen the Bears manhandle Green Bay and Detroit.

Rex Grossman:  pride of Bloomington, Ind.

More Maude

Here's what Maude looked like in more suitable photos:

Insane Maude

Here was some of what I watched over the weekend.

That's Miss Maude, chasing down a duck, on her way to completing a leg of a Junior Hunter title.

My folks got some shots of Maude where she looks less bonkers, but this one is the funniest.

Cars and Electricity and Sliding

So, one thing I have learned about a 20-year old car is that the battery drains when you leave it sit for long periods of time.  Like 3 weeks in Dubai, or 9 days in Nevada.

It also drains when you leave a door half-open all day -- and all day means you work until around 11PM.  So I was waiting for AAA and a jump last night in the parking lot at work -- and they showed up amazingly fast, which was nice.  So then I drove around the highways and roads at high speeds to charge the battery back up.  Down from Cypress Creek, to the 595, to the airport, around Departures where cops gave me the fish eye, then back up the various 95s to Atlantic where I noticed that I was about out of gas.  So I poked back down Dixie Highway at lower speeds until I got into a Hess and hoped that I had charged the battery enough.

I had.  It even started this morning.

So, ready to drivce, I was pulling my usual weave in and out of traffic looking for an advantage and a coupoe of extra seconds saved in the commute.  I had forgotton, however, that accelerating hard while shofting lanes and going across a bridge -- after a hard rain -- is not such a good idea.

It turns out that the rear wheel drive of the Bimmer is easy to control when it starts to fishtail.  So now I know.

All my epxperience with pulling out of fishtails comes from deliberately doing spinouts on snow-covered streets in Munster during high school.  Boredom will lead you to funny ways to kill time.  But at least it taught me how to steer into the slippage, and straighten out a sliding car.

So that was my driving evening and morning.   Survivial of the experienced.

By Request

There'll be more BRC updates to come, but for right now I have to fulfill a specific familial request.

Here's Lil' Miss AnnaVic, my (not new anymore) niece:

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Awww.  What a sweetie.

packing again

I am heading off to a different desert in a week.  Like any prep time for Burning Man, the packing is half the fun.  New tent, old fart sack, packing for a plane ride.  All is enjoyable, indeed.

My living room is full of airing out Coleman tent right now, which makes for quite a block for watching the TV.

water home

So I can tell I'm back in lovely Lauderdale.  The heat?  Similar to Dubai.  Not as extreme, but still hot and steamy.

But the rain!

Both of the last two days have had serious downpours.  Right now, outside the work window, the stomr coming down is the type that made ancient men create whole pantheons of gods to explain things.  Lightning gods and thunder goddesses, with a few pixiues and satyrs to dispense all the falling water.

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More Packing

OTOH, I have enough hats, ready to go.

Need one more set of sand goggles, though.  A pair of tanker goggles, that will cover my glasses.  My contacts have been giving me trouble lately, so I don't think I can wear them for extended periods (desert or not).

It's these kind of fascinating obsessions that make me such a joy to be around at times like these.

Packing

So I'm back less than 24 hours, and I already feel very behind on my packing for the next desert.  Got to do laundry, and get some sand masks, and figure out how to best pack my tent and fart sack.

Also, what clothing to take?  I was thinking of trying to find a cheap used tux, but that seems overly aggressive for the time I have.  Then again, I think the tux jacket I have I only paid $35 for, back when Stim launched ('96).  So that's enough value out of a jacket I've onyl worn 3 or 4 times.

Or maybe I'll just go white suit again.  Though I have oacked away all Hawaiin shirts.  So there goes the Maui maitre d' look.

See?  No time at all left to plan these things.