League of Melbotis

Nothing will make you believe in the relativity of time like a little bit of a travel. Was it only Thursday afternoon that I left the desert? Was it yesterday afternoon that I wound up at my old office, last night for the service? Then finally eating something? (and why doesn't it occur to me to eat when I'm left to my own devices?)

I was in Austin by Thursday night. Peabo and I dropped my bags, said goodnight to Adriana and hopped over to Kerbey Lane on S. Lamar. The people are all so young inside. You forget out here amongst the families and a-dults that there's this other thing going on. The service is no better at Kerbey Lane now than in 1996 or whenever it was I first hit that location. Peabo, though, has landed himself a beautiful home in my neighborhood of neighborhoods. I'm afraid to ask how he swung that.

He's got a little schnauzer, Homer, and I'd like to say that Homer and I really took to each other, but I sort of get the feeling Homer is a dog who is going to love anybody willing to play with him (not that he's want for attention).

Friday morning was the graveside service. The Memorial Park is lovely in that all-encompassing-green way that the older neighborhoods in Austin tend to be. It's oaks and spanish moss.

Afterward I stopped by Jason's house and then the Wilson's for a few minutes. Then off to my old office on campus at UT where time seems to simultaneously never progress and lurch forward in hops and leaps. They've painted the walls. People have left, people have joined. New furniture. New hardware. New technology. No small amount of jealousy, there, given what they're playing with.

Ran back to Jason's, met up with my parents, Sue and Jason. In separate cars we headed over to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden. And people showed up. Lots of people. Reedo, Larry Lee, a sea of attorneys. I'm still hesitating to guess how many folks.

Afterward, off to Threadgill's with the folks and Sue. Then back to Peabo's where we stayed up until 1:30 AM or so. I miss that with Peabo. If ever a man got my mental wheels spinning, it was that guy. We've been staying up too late since 6th grade, I think.

This morning I was up and out the door before Peabo & Family were up. Wagner picked me up, we hit Maudie's for breakfast, floated around the WestGate area for a while not wishing to wake the guys at Jason's house whom Greg informed us had made a night of it last night, and stayed up entirely too late.

Said my adios to Wagner, met up with the family, had some lunch at Casa G's (I know, I know...) hit the airport. My flight was delayed, which was problematic. You see, last night at 10:00 or so, for some reason The Admiral mentioned that this evening was the 15th. For which I had Lyle Lovett tickets and had completely forgotten.

Long story short, mother nature and ineptitude of both Southwest Airlines and the Las Vegas airport (which had sent my craft) conspired to prevent me from making it home in time. I missed the darn show. Sorry, Lyle.

Now, here was an odd bit about the weekend...

All these folks who have been nothing but a name or some folks I had only heard about in passing... two things.

There's nothing like meeting someone you've never met before and them taking a look at you and saying "I saw you eating Cap'n Crunch!" Or, "We saw you and your brother drinking Jones Soda!" I finally met some folks I'd corresponded with only through this oddity we call the internet. Hello, Diva.

But, but, but... it's not just the League, thank you, Steanso... Over at Adventures of Steanso, my brother dearest occasionally refers to me as "Roundball". The name has no meaning, and was used briefly in reference to a book I read in 3rd grade called, I believe, "Anastasia Krupnick." Anyway, apparently Steanso's Austin based-pals believe my name to be "Roundball". Just as they believe my parents' names to be "The Admiral and KareBear".

Now I mention this as I am now not sure what the future holds.

Jamie and I have decided that in very short order we are placing our house on the market and we're moving back to Austin. If any of you have a job you would like to give me (I require a 6-figure salary, four weeks of vacation, an expense account and a company car), I'm game.

We plan to be back in town before ACL Fest and just as the summer heat is scheduled to break. I want to be back in Austin for a lovely Austin fall, all football games and bright sun and those wonderful Northers blowing through once in a while to remind you that winter will be along shortly.

This has been a surprisingly easy decision, but it's turning into the monumental task that I said it would. But remember what I said back then? No limits. This is the right thing to do, and if I was ever unsure of my choice, the past forty-eight hours has been frought with a thousand whisperings telling me that it's time to get on with it.

So I'm a'coming, Austin, Texas. Me and the whole, darn League of Melbotis. No limits.

So when I get back, and I'm back in my home town, do I have to worry about attorneys on the street leaning out their car windows and shouting "Roundball's back in town!"?