Wednesday, December 18, 2002

motorcycle lights on 37th Street

"Not only are our selves conditional but they die. Each day, we wake slightly altered, and the person we were yesterday is dead."

John Updike, On Being a Self Forever

It is not enough to be h

Even if I have these completely moronic 'tasks' on my plate I should at least finish some of them.

So I buckle down and finish some Christmas presents I'm making. They may be stupid, may look stupid, but they are done. I have a couple of more I should make but I also have some errands.

The first errand is to get the car inspected. I usually go to the dealer which is close by but FFP goes to this good old boy place on Burnet. So I go there. Whoa! This place makes getting an inspection fun. There are all kinds of decorations around like fishing rods and antlers. The good old boys are checking your brakes and headlights and insurance and checking your gas tank for leaks. You are supposed to write your name on a white board but I don't know this and there isn't a line so they take care of me. (FFP says later that they expect you to know their routine.) They will sell you a Texas terrorist hunting license (it's a joke, OK) and you are in and out and inspected. I back my car out of one of the rickety bays myself, having to pat a giant (but sweet-looking) good old boy hunting dog eating an enormous bowl of food before I get in. It would be a great discovery except like everything else in Austin it's already discovered. The are sporting an Austin Chronicle award banner. Coolest place to get your car inspected or something.

Then it's off to the club for my workout.

Then on to 'finish' my Christmas shopping. And begin it, too. Well, I might have gotten one other thing already...some inexpensive note cards at Ross for my mother-in-law. I've come up with some stuff out of the 'supply' for my few gifts, too. And I finish up with a couple of stops. One at Half Price Books where I get some tapes for FFP's dad and a book about birds for mine. The other to get a 'read in bed' pillow for FFP at the 'Relax the Back' store. (I give it to him later in the evening so even if he's reading...I'm not spoiling the surprise.)

Voila. Christmas shopping done.

I also go into Precision Camera and get some cartridges for my ink jet and some archival sheets for 4x12 panorama pictures. I want a case that will hold these oversized sheets but they don't have them. I tried going to Fry's to get cheaper prices on name brand cartridges but found them actually cheaper here sometimes. Precision sells printers and Macs and scanners and telescopes and binoculars in addition to cameras.

At home I address some of the mysteries of computers and WEB sites (buying more space from the WEB backup service for FFP, trying to find the incantation to get into a WEB site where we are registered), and before I know it, it's after 6:30 and SuRu is calling me and saying yep, let's do 37th Street on foot with the dogs.

Talk about something that is already well-discovered in Austin: 37th Street Christmas lights is in that category.

SuRu says she'll call back after she's eaten a salad so FFP and I spend the time getting out flashing lights and some Christmas lights driven by batteries and decorate ourselves (for safety and for the humor of it all).

We park near 44th Street and walk. The lights aren't working at 38th and there are policemen directing traffic and city trucks belching diesel, sort of spoiling the mood. But we persevere and walk up and down the crazy neighborhood even going through the one open backyard where evertyhing from dryer vent hoses to yogurt cartons are lit up. An old rusty stove has lights for a fire and egg and bacon lights on top. People clothes pin money to the clothes line and these folks will need it: there are lights around the meter and it is spinning faster than on a 100 degree day in summer with our three AC units going. These same people have a dummy with pumpkin head high on a ladder ostensibly putting up lights, an aluminum foil reindeer and a wall of lights never removed from their packages but simply plugged in.

Across the street the 'volcano' erupts. A plume of steam is followed by eruptions of lights. The people around the corner on Home Avenue and such are more like hippies...there is a projection of something like a lava lamp, peace signs.

We loop all the way back and, at the end of the street, pause briefly, to listen to a zither and bass combo sing Christmas songs. All along the way, people have commented on our lights but more so on the dogs. One car load of kids insisted on petting them for about five minutes. There seems to be a trend to drive down the street (douse your lights please!) in limos. One is so long we don't know how it will turn the corner at the end of the street. The traffic crawls down the street. If you can walk, folks, you should do it.

Then we have our walk back to the car. It is a good walk and a few people even turn their heads at our well-lit team.

Home again, we watch Law and Order. (Dog fights...that's a new theme and welcome after all the priest molestation and drug deals and killing loved ones.) I try to finish my book but fall asleep. Oh, and I call Dad to see how he's getting along and, even though it's nine o'clock he's in bed. He says his digital cable box is giving him a 'not authorized' screen and he can't fix it even though he tried calling them and 'pushing all the buttons again.' I'll have to go over there and try to fix it. It's always something, isn't it? It seems I spend a lot of my time trying to make things I'm using to 'work' or entertain myself actually work. Ah, but I'm retired so I have time for it. Right?

JUST TYPING
The secondhand bookstore.
The busy camera store that only has part of what I want.
The Relax the Back store.
Not so busy.
The clerk 'troubles me' for my name.
Then 'troubles me' for my signature.
So she says.