Buddy's Myth

Here's Dave now. He's at the exhibit of Chihuly glass art at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. We went there in November and had a cool time, even though they wouldn't let Dave stack any of the sculptures.
The Bond house in Palm Springs (see below) had twenty-four Chihulys in it.

Dave Russell came into town a few moments ago to see the Falcons whoop up on the Rams, and brought me some rocks! Now I'm sitting here looking out the window at my new cache and debating whether I should call in sick to stay home and stack 'em. Nah, I need the dough and the rocks will be here tomorrow. Can't wait to get going, though. He brought some from South Carolina and some from Georgia, so I'll have a little trial and error to see how different states' rocks play together. Click on the link at left to check Dave's Avant Garden, a real stacker's playground. He has a link to another guy in San Francisco who's pretty amazing. Check it out, and come back soon for pics of my endeavors with the new toys (the rocks, I'm talking about the rocks).

Okay, so maybe last night's blog was a little aggressive. I had just been at work and had a little pent-up frustration to vent. At least I turned to the blog and not to my vast stores of semi-automatic weaponry. Here's a couple of happy pics to let you know I am not about to go postal on anyone and have to do my bloggin' from the big house.

Golf in Los Cabos Mexico. The Toner and I were there in February last year (more later...). I was supremely happy here.

(l-r) Mike "Gutbucket" Schulte, The Myth, and the Toner at Turner field. Man I was happy that day. The Braves lost, so I was slightly less happy, but still happy.

So here's the whole work deal. I work at Anthony's Fine Dining in Atlanta, technically in the Buckhead area of Atlanta. If you live in Atlanta and you want to tell people you live somewhere cool, you tell them you live in Buckhead.
When I moved back to Alanta after my divorce (more later...) I got a job here until I "found something else." After a couple of months, I was offered the job of Banquet Captain. This meant that I would be in charge of the banquet room and all of the large parties therein. They offered me this job because they recognized my dedication to customer service (from my years of retail--more later--this is an update of a lot of years, remember) and knew I could take them to the next level. I did a great job, and made a lot of people LOVE Anthony's. In February of 2004 they offered me the position of Banquet Director, after the old banquet director quit with one week notice. I accepted, after assuring them that I would dedicate the next couple of years to them . Well, after seven months at that job, where I did my best to promote the restaurant as well as humanly possible, I was KICKED OUT OF MY JOB when the old guy (best friends of the owner) decided to waltz back in and ask for his old job back...WHICH THEY GAVE HIM %&#@!! No "Whaddayathinkbuddy" or any of that, just "See Ya, wouldn't want to be ya," so I was out. I had to stay and wait tables because I had just moved in with The Toner, and he needs the rent. So Dang. So I have a lot of pent up aggression, anger, angst, call it what you will. I really want to let loose my full force of revenge tactics, but I have learned, among so little else in my life, not to burn bridges too quickly. Believe me, when the time comes to burn this one you'll be able to see it from the third moon of Pluto, but "The Dude Abides."

This is Anthony's, a 200 year old restaurant in Buckhead. It's a great restaurant, but, well you read it already. Still, though, it's a great place to go if you are from out of town.

This is me at Anthony's in the monkey suit. I've never actually seen a monkey in a tuxedo, but God, I'd pay like ten bucks to see that.

Due to popular demand (through email, not postings...see below, grrrr) I have included a few more shots of the Palm Springs trip. I'm not too proud, people, just tell me what you want and I'll put it on. Don't ask me for Paris and Nikki, though, you get enough of that crap in "People" every week. Here's what you really want.

That's me luxuriating ( a real word meaning to enjoy great luxury) in the pool at the James Bond House. The pool is half indoors and half out when the wall is closed. I, of course, preferred open, but weather and the cold-natured propensity of the rest of the fam conspired to keep it closed most of the time we were there. That meant that the walk from my bedroom to the main house was far more arduous than most vacationers prefer. I had to make sure I had everything I needed before leaving my bedroom (which was sweeeeet).

View of the Bond house from the living room (from the far left of the living room) to the patio. The glass wall has been retracted to reveal the pool and patio and beyond to the veranda. Actually, no one in Palm Springs says "veranda," but I injected a little southern into their otherwise cloistered little fantasy world. It was still way cool.

The living room at the Jack Benny House. My new pal Mike lives here. You can see his tennis courts in the background. I call him my new friend Mike in hopes that he will feel the same and let me use his house to crash in while climbing in Joshua Tree for the rest of my "gonna-be-short-if-I-don't-change" life. Hope springs eternal.

This is me at Skull Rock in Joshua Tree. We hiked up to a sign that said Skull Rock, which, of course, meant I had to go looking for a skull shaped rock, which I did for about fifteen minutes. Turns out it was right by the road. Trust the signs people, unless they say the trail is .25 miles long (see below-the posting titled The Smith Family Christmas).

I am standing on the fairway of a par five on the Indian Wells course. Zoom in and note that the grass is alll the way up to the trunk of every tree. This means no pine straw and no bad lies. That also means no excuses for the monster score I put up. The course record is still safe. Go beat it.

So what, I haven't put one thing on here worth commenting on? Someone post a comment on this danged thing so I'll know that the comment feature is working. If not I'll adjust the settings accordingly. If it's the content not being "Comment Worthy" then I'll pep it up with inuendo and hearsay and really get this blog a'bloggin'. Don't dare me. I'll do it. argggggghhh. Blog blog blog blog blog. Say it. SAY IT!

That means football, golf, coffee, sleeping till noon, pizza delivery, all the things that make America great. Didn't blog at all yesterday because I had to work. Easy day, good money. I still hate it, though.
On Sunday Johnny Cat meanders between eating, napping, trying to escape from the house, and looking for the best lap to relax in. It's an enviable lifestyle. I, on the other hand, need to work on resumes and clean up small messes around the house. Below are some pics of Johnny Cat. Envy her and her cushy lifestyle. Every day is Sunday to Johnny Cat.

You can throw a football to Johnny and she will catch it in her paws. Not this football, however.

Eat or nap, eat or nap. Johnny has to make the tough decisions all day long.

The night vigil. Ever hopeful that a kindly stranger will come and set her free. Not bloody likely.

Johnny is well aware of irony. We only let her out when it rains. She hates rain.