AUSTIN, Texas, June 15, 2005 — Time flies so I have to do things, right? It won't be all that long until vacation. Need to get all the plans made that need to be made. I need to go to a meeting at the club, do some follow-up on that. I need to watch some films for AFF. What will interrupt this progress?

First, I was slugging the bed admidst those 'I cannot seem to get everything done' dreams. FFP had appointments and he got his workout done, bought groceries and was home before I accomplished much more than being dressed in shorts and a T-Shirt and getting some coffee.

So I headed to the club but first packed up clothes and toiletries to clean up there after my workout. Theoretically I could have done a very, very good workout. But it was the usual mediocre one. I'm in a rut, I guess. I cleaned up and sat in the meeting room, way early, reading my (old) newspapers. Now these meetings never start on time so I was sitting around a long while. Which meant I succumbed to potato chips and nuts with iced tea. Folks finally arrived and the meeting proceeded. I have a few concerns about the stuff, but I'm not sure I have the power to do much. I agree with the chairman that I should send a follow-up to a bunch of people who are on an e-mail list of members that I collected.

I go home and stick into various tasks: uploading and editing pictures for Forrest's column (he's doing lots of columns to get ahead for the vacation); I did some proofreading and editing on the columns; I went over directions and WEB pages and maps for the trip, stop by stop, putting confirmations and stuff printed off the WEB in a notebook. I folded and unfolded maps, followed routes, found exits, scratched my head.

At one point I thought I'd review some films and take a break but FFP phoned me with something else to do.

At one point I heard someone walking through the house. It wasn't FFP's crisp footsteps, nor the maid's hurried lope. There was a extra noise like a hitch in the gait. Sure enough it was my dad who had come by, made his way through the obstacle course in the garage, walking with a cane. That's progress, a cane, although he wasn't super steady with it. He'd been to PT, the bank, gotten a haircut. He didn't stay long, though, because rush hour loomed.

As the day progressed, FFP was talking to the husband of an artist whom he profiled in his column and he said he was playing at Jorge's tonight. "The one on Hancock?" FFP asked. Sure enough.

Hence was hatched the plan to go to Jorge's and eat too much and listen to a Cuban Trio. What are we doing...listening to live music twice in a week with another music adventure on Sunday night? Are we trying to prove that Austin is the Live Music Capital after all?

We got there around six. We found out, though, that the music started at 6:30. We ordered food and I got one of the buck-fifty beers they have on Wednesday. We hadn't been to this Tex-Mex place in ages. It is, literally, walking distance from our house although, no, we didn't walk. It is blazing sweaty hot out. The trio kicks off and sounds pretty good (think Buena Vista Social Club) and we dawdle over our food and I have another beer and FFP has one, too. We go home a little fuzzy, full and with me having two beers.

FFP starts watching this reality show about dancing with celebrities. Ho. Hum. I read the paper. I end up watching a couple of the films I need to review for AFF. Around 10:30 or 11 I get the idea that I could go to sleep at a reasonable hour and that would allow me to get up at a reasonable hour. What a concept. I do it. I don't go to sleep easily, though, although I was drifting off over the paper. My mind seems to be racing.