6 Feb 1997
It's been the longest
absence of the "Fans of BJR" newsletter since it's first edition in
1971. But, the last few months have been record setting, both in terms of
records and in terms of setting them. The millions of letters and
pleas from the public did not fall on deaf ears. I have returned.
Let the breakdancing begin.
Unfortunately for some of
you not reading this, I lost my mailing list that previously held all the
subscribers to my newsletter. I have tried to compile a new list, but I'm
sure several people desperate for a piece of
news from your truly will be
crushed to find out they missed out. If you happen to run into someone
who fits this description, reassure them that it's quite easy to get back on
the list, that it will cost less that getting a molar removed, and that the
only reason they didn't get added was that I didn't really like them that much
to begin with. Of course, several of you reading this are newcomers
- mostly unwilling, I'm sure, but newcomers none the less. This is
a lifetime subscription- you will have to kill me to keep from getting this.
The last time I wrote, I
think the Civil War had just ended, and Hannibal was about to start his journey
with his elephants across the Alps, in search of the woman on the box of Swiss
Miss Cocoa (check your history
book, it's there),
Shortly after (a.k.a. in December), I went on vacation - I spent Xmas with my
brother and his wife in Monterey, California, then experienced my first two
days of skiing in Tahoe. Let's just say I am an expert. It's not
even close to the truth, but it just sounds so much cooler to say that I'm an
expert after two days of skiing rather than saying I did a complete somersault
(without leaving the ground or losing
my skis) and that I helped
fix a toilet.
After that I returned to the
land of the golden burrito, the Bay Area. I ate at Pollo’s and at
Tacqueria La Bamba and at Una Mas. Recently I even tried my first Thai
Chicken Burrito, which I am ashamed about. It is not a true burrito in
the tradition of great Northern California "Burritorias," but is more
in the tradition of "Crap." This joke structure was entirely stolen
from Saturday Night Live's Norm MacDonald and his jokes about Kenny G and
Latoya Jackson.
My tour of duty in Wisconsin
finished up with a trip back to the Machine Shed, where we took pictures of
each other riding the tractor (and the pig, I'll admit), as well as a fine
photo of each of us with a large slab of pie. The waitress acted as if
everyone doesn't have their picture taken with their pie. Weird
lady. I'll miss Wisconsin - I have so many fond memories. Well, not
of Wisconsin, but I do have a lot of fine memories. Right now, I am: 1)
On an airplane, 2) Inside an airplane, 3) Leaving on a jet plane, don't know
when I'll be back again, 4) Skinning cats in practice for the local cat
skin-a-thon.
The answer is of course,
that I'm am en route back to my beloved Austin, "The Live Music Capital of
The World and The Home of BJR." I'll be in Chicago Monday through
Thursday until sometime after the world ends. I'm working on a health
care account (hey, who isn't these days), and we're basically building a system
to make sure you pay twice as much as you did the last time you went to the
doctor. It's nice to know that I really do make a difference in my
work. If you're in Chicago, send me some email. Maybe I'll send you some
email back.
The guy next to me on the
plane is crazy. He kept babbling about getting a mixed drink for the
first half hour of the plane, hoping he'd get one "on the
house." I hated to tell him that we're not in a house.
I'd like to have an excuse
for ending this newsletter here, but I'm out of excuses. Good night.
BJR