Author: Jefe

WARNING!

I am about to write about something that may have you up in arms, demanding my head on a silver platter, or just plain upset with me. I feel it is in Cloudwrangler’s best interest to go ahead and say it anyway, for a lot of reasons. I recently told someone important that the only way to approach blogging was to “Write without fear”, and I firmly believe it. Also, controversy is good PR. A simple boycott of me could lead to millions of hits on my site, and really it’s all about feeding my ego, right? Right.

This morning, while doing laundry in the shadiest laundromat in Austin, I parked next to a Spanish language video rental store, carrying a variety of Mexican films that I had never heard of. On the front door of the shop there was a poster for a “film” called, “El Jefe de la Frontera” It had a rather large Mexican man with a bad goatee, a black cowboy hat, and some sort of assault rifle standing over a rather well bosomed dusky Latin “maiden” and a corpse or two. I was ready to offer the store owner as much as $100 for it, until Kevin dubbed it, and the other films like it also advertised with boobs and guns, a “Taco Western”. I could hardly stop laughing, thank goodness I don’t drink milk.

Recently, the local news said over 1 million people will be traveling thorugh Austin in March. That number is so insane I can barely get my noodle around it, and my noodle is pretty well developed. (I am talking about my brain, you sicko’s) Anyway, that same day while listening to NPR I heard a “writer” named Heather Havrilesky reading an essay she had written about grudgingly becoming a Californian. It was so flat I could have poured syrup on it and eaten it. As a proud Texan, I was struck dumb by a lot of the things that seem quintessentially Austin that this young woman seemed to think were exclusively Californian. Brown Rice. Granola. Eastern philosophy. Granted we’re more likely to discuss Buddhist thought over a cold Lone Star than chi tea (whatever the hell that is), but still. Austin is hands down the greatest place on Earth. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. Soon, however, I got to thinking about all the places in our great little Nation, er, I mean, State that I have lived and visited, and how wonderful they all can be. I wanted to stomp on her poorly written tripe with one heel of my black pointy toed boots. I wanted to drag her out to West Texas, where the Earth and the Sky are sometimes one and the same, where Wind is a constant and a state of mind, where cactus and pumpjacks live side by side with cattlemen and great beer. Then, we’d be off by helicopter, over where the buffalo roam to where the Cowboys and J.R. Ewing play. Dallas, Texas, whose pretentia may never be in absentia, but was a damn fine place to grow up. Or Houston, the largest city in the Nation, oops did it again, State. Home of the Astros, where men who walk among the stars call when the “have a problem”. Mostly, though, I’d bring her here, deep in the heart of Texas, a stones throw from the Alamo, where music and art and technology and love all seem to have come together at the right place in the right time.

Speaking of Austin, check out the SXSW section above for a running acount of the festivities from the festivals preemminent volunteer. That would be me, by the way.

Some quick capsule reviews of stuff I have seen lately:

Queen of the Damned

Starring Aaliyah, Stuart Townsend, Lena Olin and Vincent Perez

Directed by Michael Rymer

If you like MTV, then you’re set. Its really just a glorified music video, and I have seen music videos with better plot threads. It’s got cool vampire stuff, though Townsend is no Tom Cruise. Thankfully, this flick never takes itself nearly as seriously as “Interview” did. I have to admit, Aaliyah stank the place up. Not nice to rag on dead people (no pun intended) but I kept hoping Wesley Snipes would appear as Blade and cut her damn head off. The girl could NOT act. Hell, Jet Li stole scenes from her in “Romeo must Die”. Not action scenes, DIALOGUE scenes, and he barely speaks english. Just don;t go into this one expecting too much folks. (Also, remember Blade II premieres at SXSW this year!) 2 cell phones.

Hart’s War

Starring Bruce Willis and Colin Farrell

Directed by Gregory Hoblit

Bruce is sleepwalking. Colin Farrell is a good kid, but a little flat. There is way too much going on here, none of it particularly well explored. Wait for the video. 2 Cell phones.

The Count of Monte Cristo

Starring Jim Caviezel, Guy Pierce and Richard Harris

Directed byKevin Reynolds

I dug it. I read the book as a kid, I love sword and swashbuckler movies, I spent five bucks and it was worth it. In retrospect, I saw it a month ago and have almost forgotten it, but it’s a good time killer on a slow afternoon. 3 cell phones for this one.

I have been gone for quite a while, haven’t I? HELLO? Anyone still reading?

Work has ballooned into a THING. I have a day job, can you believe it? Kevin thought black was white for a few days, and I have to admit, it’s been a weird feeling. I am at the club Noon to 3 now, paying bills, recieving orders, doing grunt work that all assistant managers have to do I suppose. It has kept me pretty busy, considering I am atill working 4-5 night a week managing the club and bartending (which I still LOVE to do!) So, the ‘Wrangler has suffered a bit, but no longer. Look for posts in lots of different sections today, as well as the temporary suspension of the bar review section (it never really got off the ground, anyway). Thinking of making it a SXSW “whats happening now” kind of page for a while as I am volunteering like mad at the festival.

As for the blog, here’s what I think.

There is nothing like waking up on an icy cold 25 degree morning next to someone keeping you warm. It puts a smile on your face and a strength in your stride, no matter how cold the wind may be in your face. Thank you.

I gotta tell ya, there’s nothing like baseball. Tech took two this weekend, one from TCU and one from tournament host Texas State, er, I mean SWT. Highlights included a Tech no-hitter that stretched into the seventh inning of the SWT game, an incessant ragging of the all girl SWT baseball fan club that involved 30 guys answering their dainty rendition of the SWT fight song with heartily sung verses of the Theme from Laverne and Shirley, and a very very VERY foolish Bat boy. The Grand Pubah tore him a new one, let me tell ya. What were you thinking, kid? Never swear at a Heckler, man, read the Ten Commandments

So far I have not been particularly swept up in Winter Olympic fever. I watched a medal ceremony for free-style snowboarding in which (gasp) all three medalists were Americans! They looked like three kids off the X-games, cleaned up a little. All three also looked totally stoned, which gave me and Kevin a good laugh. “Dude, if we peel off the gold foil is there chocalate under here? I am STARVING! Whoa, check out the big flame.”

Also, luger’s are idiots. Somebody’s gonna get killed. I mean, the Bobsleder’s have like, a big contraption around them to protect them. It’s only made of fiberglass, but it’s better than hurtling down a mountain at 80 miles an hour FLAT ON YOUR ASS!

Regardless, here are my favorite Olympic moments so far. The US hockey team beat Switzerland (like we didn’t all see that coming). Anytime they win I am happy.

Bob Costas encouraged the bartender at one Olympians parents bar in Vermont to by the house a round after the daughter of the proprieters won a gold medal, only to find out that it is against the law to give away drinks in Vermont, and Bob ended up costing the poor bartender around $170 bucks. The next day, Bob sent the guy his credit card info, enough money for a second round of drinks, and a $200 tip.

I also watched figure skating, which I don’t normally do, and happened to see the two Canadians. The entire performance. I saw the Russians, who won the gold, right before them, and there is no denying that they were good. The Canadians, who I only paid complete attention to because I was glad to see they managed to look more like a Gap ad than Sigfried and Roy, were incredible! I was as shocked as anybody that they didn’t win, and I am ususally rooting for someone to get cross checked during figure skating. That’s why I was so glad to see this, because they earned it. It’s nice to see that in an international community that has been falling apart with terror and war, we can come together and recognize that, oops, we screwed up, but let’s just say we were all winners and try not kill each other, ok? Good job guys.

All right already, for those of you who are posting like made about Valentine’s day and love and shit, here ya go. As long as you all understand what you are really celebrating here. This comes from, I swear to God (haha), www.catholic.org.

“Valentine was a holy priest in Rome, who, with St. Marius and his family, assisted the martyrs in the persecution under Claudius II. He was apprehended, and sent by the emperor to the prefect of Rome, who, on finding all his promises to make him renounce his faith in effectual, commended him to be beaten with clubs, and afterwards, to be beheaded, which was executed on February 14, about the year 270. Pope Julius I is said to have built a church near Ponte Mole to he memory, which for a long time gave name to the gate now called Porta del Popolo, formerly, Porta Valetini. The greatest part of his relics are now in the church of St. Praxedes. His name is celebrated as that of an illustrious martyr in the sacramentary of St. Gregory, the Roman Missal of Thomasius, in the calendar of F. Fronto and that of Allatius, in Bede, Usuard, Ado, Notker and all other martyrologies on this day. To abolish the heathens lewd superstitious custom of boys drawing the names of girls, in honor of their goddess Februata Juno, on the fifteenth of this month, several zealous pastors substituted the names of saints in billets given on this day.” The reason they tried to make him renounce his beliefs had something to do with marrying people in secret.

Not that I am bitter, in any way.

I’m just not in love right now, and today, it blows, just a little.

Zuzia brought me chocolate covered strawberries, though. She’s pretty cool.

The kiss was velvety soft, not quite sweet but tangy with alcohol, feminine without being too delicate, sexual without being aggressive. It was great, no question about it. It came from a stranger, I still don’t know her name. It came at the request of a coworker and friend. “Don’t show Jeff your breasts, he’s been at work every night of Mardi Gras all week. He’s seen Sixth street packed from curb to curb with drunken idiots wearing gaudy plastic trinkets. He’s seen things that would make the crew of the ‘Girls Gone Wild’ video sit down and cry. He is completely de-sensitized to the female breast. Just give him something to make him happy, and he’ll give you all the beads you want.” Thanks Sara.

And then the Kiss was over, and I look up from my newfound friend to see her boyfriend standing right behind us. Thanks Sara.

His response? A big grin. “Hey, It’s Mardi Gras! I don’t care what she does!”

I’m supposed to give up something for Lent today. I’m giving up Mardi Gras and getting some sleep.