Random Notes from a Crank

Lately, I've been thinking that I need to go back through all of my posts over the years and label them like many other blogs do, but when confronted with that many posts, it's clear I need to have some kind of regimen to do this: labeling while watching baseball or while the kids watch some silly sit-com on the Disney channel. It'll take a while, so I've already started.

For part of last week, I spent time in downtown St. Louis for a conference. Even though the Nasty family (sans El Nino) spent five years in StL, I didn't spend much time downtown. I've visited many downtowns of metro areas over the years, and St. Louis showed itself pretty well. It's not New Orleans (one of my favorite big conference destinations), but we had good weather, and the city is a heck of a lot more affordable than conferences at Disney, San Francisco, NYC, and others.

On the flip side of the positives of St. Louis, my buddy woke to find the passenger side window of his car shattered and his cell phone stolen from his car on Saturday morning. Smash and grab crime, StL style.

I've been going to the aforementioned conference for so long that I recognize people I've seen multiple times even though I don't know them. Here's a sampling of my inner thoughts:

• "There's the guy with an eye patch."
• "Seriously lady, a beret?"
• "Wow, he's lost weight."
• "Here he comes. And watch the sucking up ensue."
• "She's supposed to be so great, but every presentation I've gone to of hers is lackluster at best." 
• "Don't notice me [I don't want to talk to him.]. Don't notice me [I don't want to talk to him.]. Just walk quietly."
• "There he is: the grizzled ex-hippy dude from California." 
• "She's really working that I'm originally from the West thang--the boots, the blouse, etc." 

I think my lawnmower is dying or perhaps even is dead. I spent most of yesterday outside. I mowed the front lawn for a short time. Then the mower sputtered out on me as I was cutting some high grass. It wouldn't start. I cleaned a filter. It wouldn't start. So I decided to whack weeds. I tried to start the lawnmower--repeatedly. It wouldn't start--repeatedly. I decided to check the spark plug. It looked nasty, so I went to Rural King and got a new one. I installed a new spark plug. It started. I cut the back yard, which is well fertilized by dog scat, on a high setting and then moved to my regular setting. I almost got the lawn done, but the lawnmower died. It wouldn't start. I threw my hat in disgust. My son laughed at me. Then I helped Mrs. Nasty and the kids weed and rake the front flower beds. The kids and I took the bags of leaves and sweet gum balls to the dump. We got back. I tried to start it again. I wouldn't start. We went for a bike ride and visited the park. We came back. I tried to start it. It wouldn't start. I finished the job with my old push and reel mower. 

Deep Thought: The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's just where the dogs shit.

One of my favorite lines from the new Todd Snider is this one from "Big Finish": "It ain't the despair that gets you. It's the hope."