What ever happened to just wanting to grow up to be Don Johnson?

I hung out with Travis tonight. On the way to his house in the now trendy area of Austin I got to thinking; Travis has been one of my closests friends for 19 years. NINETEEN YEARS.

Travis lives off of east 11th. Ten years ago you drove down east 11th for either drugs or barbacoa. You can still get either in that area but can now find solace in doing so in your rented Land Rover.

The two of us caught up and chatted for a bit before heading over to Snake Eyes Vinyl to check out a doo-wop ensemble that is comprised of a few friends of Travis’s.

We waited in Snake Eyes Vinyl’s parking for an hour among the trendsetting emo kids. I sat on an embankment while Travis made casual smalltalk with people. I took in the crowd while waiting on Travis. The others who were waiting were all kids. I could, biologically speaking, be most of these hipsters’ father. I had a very difficult time ascertaining the source of their collective rebellion based on the way most were dressed.

The girls looked fairly normal, most of which were cute and wore normal clothes comprised of jeans or skirts, normal shoes, t-shirts and nice haircuts.

The boys were wearing capri-style jeans, cut off mid-shin and and tight fitting Salvation Army-find t-shirts. Most sported dark socks pulled up mid-shin and new canvas Chuck Taylors. Many had forearm tattoos and were carrying 16-ounce Budweisers and smoking Marlboros. All donned bad Goo Goo Dolls frontman do’s. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. What is this style? They definitely aren’t angered by anything. There’s no ominous social, musical or cultural discrepency that warrants leather wrist bands and girly hair. What is this rebellion and why is their hair so important?!?!

I then realized that they all actually have hair and quickly remembered a time when I once took hair for granted. I also realized that when I was that age I had long (non-thinning) hair, wore shorts, Dr. Marten boots, a flannel shirt tied around my waist, smoked cigarettes, wore small hoop earrings in each ear and took a guitar everywhere I went because I WAS COOL. I had a cause. If I could remember what that cause was right now I would document it here but I’m too preoccupied with trying to write this while plucking my ear hairs.

Once I get this skin-tight Von Dutch t-shirt over my 30-year-old protruding gut and buckle my studded white belt I’m going to get to the bottom of this cultural phenomenon and then it’ll be on like Donkey Kong (will that be available on PS3?)

Benefits like those from a credit card with an eagle hologram

I’ve always taken great pride in the fact that Elise is annoyingly frugal. But now it’s gotten to the point where she flat out steals.

Late last week she went to Target to return some things and to purchase very small clothes with the socks built into the pants. After checking out she made her way to the parking lot with an extra bag full of miscellaneous trash and plastic clothes hangers. She took the trash bag from the cash register.

Earlier this week she went to Wal-Mart for paper towels, shampoo, razors, etc. She came home with a bag full of little girl halter tops and leggings. She took a bag from the lady who was in line in front of her.

Last night we drove over to a friend’s house to pawn off Elise’s old college days futon. We stopped at HEB on the way home to pick something up for dinner. We got home and I unsacked the groceries.

“When did you get eggs?”

“I didn’t get eggs.”

“Why did you get bread? You just bought bread a couple days ago.”

“I didn’t get bread.”

“When did you get tomatoes?”

“I didn’t get tomatoes.”

She made off with a bag of groceries from the lady in front of us at the grocery store.

Despite my incessant begging against it, Elise returned the little girl halter tops and leggings. We’re keeping the bag of trash and bread though. That’s how we roll.