Max's Swan Dive

My family is very type A. My dad got his start as a chemical engineer, and my mom and brother are both in law. I am, by comparison, a stoned baja california surfer. So I always try to over-communicate and clarify to set expectations.

So when dad joined me for a walk to the bayou, I tried to set some expectations. It's a long way, I told him, a bit nervously. We could take the car and park nearby.

We were already walking at this point and dad was trying to humor me, so we walked. It's actually 1.7 miles to the edge of Memorial Park where I wanted to dive into the bayou park. A long walk, even for me, and a very long walk for dad.

He was a trooper though and once we were immersed in the boggy back trails of the park, we slowed down to meandering walk and watched for birds. We ended up walking about five miles or so. Saw some more ladder back woodpeckers, a few more tufted titmice, and a bird I still haven't identified yet.

As part of the lighter dining, dad made fish with red bean salsa, which was very good.

Today, I got up early and walked down to Inversion coffee shop, where I sat down to face up to trying to figure out a path forward. Cold morning with the very tail end of the "arctic vortex" (New flavor, Mountain Dew?) which plunged temperatures all the way down to a degree below freezing.

I walked next door to the Texas Art Supply store and picked up some blank cards to assemble my hand of cards. I'm so tired of all this. I am sitting in the sargasso sea of my life, and whenever you're stuck, the thing to do is try to look at the problem from a different angle and look at the problem another way. I make a hand of cards- cards representing assets, obligations, 'missions', other factors. It's somewhere between Magic The Gathering and a self-help manual.

Anyway, today I helped Neri take down the Christmas decorations, and then we went grocery shopping. I'm making them chiles rellenos tomorrow, and its such a pain in the ass dish, I choose to make over two days.

Dad took us out to Max's Wine Bar for dinner tonight. A surprising place. The clientele was about my age, or younger, and the place was incredibly loud. On top there was a guitarist blasting out my generational tunes (Lumineers, anyone?) ratcheting up the volume. I didn't realize that wine was making such a comeback in people my age. Must be a Houston thing. Not a cheap place either.

Seeing these people my age there, with jobs, with local friends, going on dates with their significant others, it was a painful reminder of my own state in the wind as a House Hobbit. Discomfort is an incentive to change.