Austin Vittles

Took this photo many months ago during a show at the Beauty Bar in Austin, Texas.

I love The Parish.  I think they have the best sound in Austin and it’s a great venue all around.  I arrived early for an event a couple months back and took this photo while I was waiting for the party to start.

The Parish

I took this photo a few months back at the Frantic Clam EP Release Party at the Beauty Bar in Austin, Texas.

Zack Hadley - Frantic Clam

I took hundreds of photos that night, all with my Tamaron 17-50mm f/2.8 lens that I probably overpaid for at Precision Camera & Video.  It’s a decent lens, and I bought it used so I didn’t pay that much, but I really should have been using something with a lower aperture because I wound up with very few images that weren’t blurred or severely noisy.

Anyway, I haven’t posted for a while and figured I would share this photo with whatever audience is left out there

Mommy, some of the girls at the academy said there used to be something called a man?

A man? What are they teaching at the academy nowadays?

Is it true, Mommy?

Well yes, it is true.

What happened to them?

Well dear, you see men were very mean to mommies. They never did things that mommies wanted to do, just things that men wanted to do.

What did men want to do?

Men just wanted to drink alcohol with their friends, and watch games.

What games?  Like volleyball and softball?

No games that used to be called football.  Violent, mean games.

Ewww.  I don’t like men.

Don’t be scared Penny, why there hasn’t been a man for 10,000 years.

What happened to all the men, Mommy?

We won’t talk about such things, now get back to your homework.

Parents need to start hitting their kids. Every time when I’m at the grocery store and I see some little Epsilon spawn stuffing Little Debbie snack cakes into his vacant face, I think, This is the future, this is the end of life as we know it.   As disturbing as the lower caste are, the Betas, Gammas, and Deltas who shop at Whole Foods are even more frightening.   Their descendants, who go to Montessori and Waldorf schools, a new generation of the New Age.  What will these offspring be like when they are 18, in 2025.  What will they think of us, the elderly?  Will we be provided for?  Will they have any respect for us?

Is the Apocalypse happening?  It’s happening right now, all around us.

What of celebrities’ kids?  What of the Alphas?  They are constantly followed by a horde of paparazzi, and around the age of two something amazing happens, they become conscience and they start posing.  How could they not, their just copying their parents, in their stepford lives.  They start pouting their lips, they start narrowing their eyes, they start trying to be cool.  Will any of these ever know anything real?  Or will they just live in their ivory towers and study evil.  The ivory towers of the science fiction past.  In 2009 we live in the future, the future is behind us.  the end times are a thing of the past.  The mouth breathing epsilon tosses the plastic wrapper to the grocery store floor and opens another..

Let's rent a movie!

Dan Hegelman stood in the aisle, turning the DVD over in his clammy sweaty hands. “Look at that little stinker,” Hegelman thought to himself, and then his beady little eyes shot up suspiciously to check if anyone was looking at him. “Well look at little Miley Cyrus, all growned up,” the balding, overweight, almost 29-year-old thought as he read the title, “Hannah Montana: The Movie”.

“Hmmmm,” the 325 pounder pondered while he cleared his throat, adjusted his ball cap, pushed his glasses back nervously, and mouth-breathed.  He could have passed for 42.

Turning the DVD over he read the back.  “Gosh she’s cute,” the unemployed community college drop out thought aloud. Dan wrinkled his nose.  “How long have I been wearing these sweatpants?” Dan thought, sniffing.  “At least a week, mmmm, when was the last time I bathed?…hmmmm…hmmmmm, I don’t know…”

Dan put the DVD back and continued walking around.  Just glancing through movies, not with anything particular in mind, he spied it…and with a surprised grunt the large man snatched up the latest High School Musical, the last one on the aisle, he couldn’t believe his luck.

“Sweet!” Dan thought as he made his way to the register.  “Someone must have just returned it.”
Grabbing some Milkduds on his way out he stopped at the Hannah Montana cut out.  Something in her eyes suggested something that made him think twice, but his mom had only given him 5 bucks.  He hurried to the register and checked out.
On the drive back, in his grandpa’s ’91 Mustang, Dan thought how he would have the apartment all to himself.
Life was good for Dan Hegelman.

Connor, for the last time, I’m not trading with you, I get to be George and thats final.

Look we all agreed we were gonna pull names out of Mogis’s military hat and that was who we were gonna get to be. Everyone’s been real cool about it, and we even agreed to one round of trading cause you threw a huge shitfit, but this is getting ridiculous.

I know you don’t want to be Bob, everyone knows you don’t want to be Bob, cause you’ve been freaking out about it for hours. I know its soooo obvious that your Bob, but an hour ago you were bitching about having to be Jeff Lynne, so we let you trade with Mogis, but if now your insisting on being George, i’m just gonna let you know there is no way I am trading with you, cause I love George and I really think of all of us, I’m the most like him.

Look.  Jim picked Roy, and that’s awesome cause Jim just nails Roy.  Then Mogis picked Bob, then I picked George, and you freaked out.  Then you wouldn’t pick so we picked for you and now your saying its not fair cause you didn’t get to pick….I mean, c’mon man!

Look. We wouldn’t of had to pick out of the hat in the first place if you didn’t freak out about everyone agreeing that I get to be George, and you have to be Bob.  Alright.  For the millionth time, I know it’s Totally Obvious that you would get to be Bob, but who cares if it’s obvious? I mean nobody cares except you!

I’m done talkin about this! We’ve been over this a billion times already and its final, your Bob, I’m George, Jim is Roy and Mogis is Jeff Lynne!  Look Connor, if you want, you can be Tom Petty, whatever, just run it by the other guys, but there’s just no way were doing a redraw.

Miami, New Florida, February 7, 2010… Super Bowl XLIV
It was 4th and 9, 12 seconds to go.
The Cowboys were all out of timeouts.
Tony Romo coolly got behind center and surveying the field called an audible, he didn’t like what he saw in the Indianapolis defense.
On the sidelines Head Coach Jerry Jones had his arms crossed in front of him. It had all come down to this. His steely gaze watched the play clock tick down, 5, 4, 3…. This was the culmination of his entire career. With a Super Bowl win all the critics who said it was impossible to coach and own a team would be silenced.

“Hike!” Romo yelled out.
Everything was happening in slow motion.
Up in the skybox Jessica Romo was cradling little 6 month old Austin Romo….if Daddy won the Superbowl she was going to tell him about the test results, how baby Austin was going to have a little brother, she just knew it was going to be a boy, it had to be a boy.
Romo rolled back and looked at the nickel defense, hoping for an opening, if only Whitten were still here he thought to himself. He’d be open right now, he’d be setting a block for me….But Whitten was gone, if there was any doubt than the black armbands on his teammates uniforms was a constant reminder of Whitten and all the other Cowboys who were gone since that terrible midsummer day in 2006…
But there was still T.O….

He could feel Dwight Freeney bearing down on him, and Romo instinctively rolled to his right, Freeney grabbed Romo by his Jersey and was about to throw him to the ground in a game ending sack but Romo somehow stayed on his feet and squirmed out of his grasp.
There was only 5 seconds left in regulation….
Looking down field he saw that Terrell had gained a step on Jacob Lacey down the sidelines.
Romo regaining his balance pulled his arm back and fired off the pass just as he was smashed between Defensive End Eric Foster and number 94 Ervin Baldwin. Linebacker Clint Session, grappling with Marion Barber at the line of scrimmage leaped, fully extending his arm… the ball grazed his glove as it flew onwards towards the end zone.

It had been a tough year for Terrell Owens. He had taken a big pay cut to stay on the Cowboys because he believed in the team. His friendship with Tony Romo, and the universal high regard he was held in by his teammates was well known by all. And than there was Coach Jerry Jones, Coach Jones had stood by T.O. when times were tough, when nobody else would and T.O. was going to be damned if he was going to let Coach Jones down now.
“Later sucker,” T.O. said as he flew by corner back Jacob Lacey, everything was happening in a vacuum.
It was Dallas’ turn…..Dallas had had it coming, Dallas had always had it coming…after what happened that August morning in 2006, after the suitcase bomb, this would show the world that Dallas was back.
Everything went silent to T.O. He didn’t hear the maddening roar of the crowd, the only thing he could actually hear was the swish swish of the ball as it cut through the humid Florida air….he saw the ball flying through the air, the seams of the ball turning slowly as the ball hurtled towards the end zone.
Leaping, Fully Extended, he felt a thud on his gloved hands, his cleats grabbed the turf as he sailed out of the back of the endzone, the ball cradled in his arms.
The Referee ran forward…his arms up….

The cameras flashed as gatorade was dumped on Coach/Owner Jerry Jones….
Back in the city of Dallas people poured out onto the streets. This was their super bowl to share with the players, organization and coach/owner Jones. With their post-suitcase bomb championship, a message loud and clear had been sent to the world: the Dallas Cowboys and the city of Dallas New Texas was back.

Something stinks in the city of Austin:

Imagine all the slim jims and hooch

According to The Statesman, in an article about the city’s recycling contract that is up, Austin has lost $2 million since the fall of 2008 due to the recycling contract it has with Greenstar.  If the contract is extended, the city will lose $7 million by September 2011.

Now, I can’t help but wonder what secret society is behind a scheme where a bum can turn in a bag of cans for some change, but the city can’t even break even by recycling on a large scale.

Who's behind this, any way?

Never mind that restaurants and bars in this city aren’t eligible to recycle the way that private citizens can.  If they choose to recycle, it’s because they have made arrangements with a company other than the sanitation department.  I guess their volume of cans and bottles means nothing compared to the pizza boxes I throw in my recycle bin.

The worst of it, from a “green” point of view, is that the main reason it costs the city so much to recycle is that it is all trucked down to San Antonio.  Not until they power the trucks with the dried cheese from aforementioned pizza box will it be worth the energy and time they are flushing down the toilet.

It puzzles men everywhere, the seemingly universal affection women have for a new pair of shoes.  Unarguably a trip to the shoe department is the surest way to coax a fantastic mood out of a woman.  Yes I do already own 4 pairs of black stilettos but that in no way precludes the need for another.  So what is the fascination?

For one, there are so many unique and colorful choices.  Shoes have become an art form and a pretty shoe can make even the ugliest woman feel more thoroughly put together.  High heels force a posture that is tall and confident and calculated.  The incline in the heel which throws women slightly off balance requires an effort on their part to restore balance in the way of taking each step in a careful manner.  It forces the female hips to sway seductively in order to progress sufficiently.  If you gain five pounds from the ice cream you promised yourself you weren’t going to succumb to, your shoes still fit perfectly.  There’s an evil little boost of confidence women gain from slipping on her most outrageous pair of red sling backs because we know that other women notice shoes, and we know when we have on the most enviable pair in the room.

No doubt I’ve made little progress in convincing any men here that women are in fact sane and rational creatures.  We may not be sane, but there is rationale to every decision we make.  The inputs that go into our tastes and preferences are collected and considered, though completely overlooked by men.  Women are accused of being shallow and emotional creatures, but I submit to you that anger is an emotion.  Now let’s re-tally the who’s more emotional poll.   Women have figured out how to process emotion and the outward residual is sometimes tears, sometimes laughter and sometimes, it’s a shiny patten leather pair of Mary Jane’s.   Don’t judge us, we know what we’ve got going on in our heads and in the end, what’s the price of a pair of shoes when it means a happy woman.