So I gave in....I blog now..

Welcome aboard...

I'll just jump in medias res, in the middle of things.

I leave for England SOON. Departure at T- 108 hours. Even at that, it's nearly too late. I think I've emotionally been in Europe for at least 2 weeks. I'm all but worthless here any more; can't concentrate on a thing... such as firing up this new site I've been threatening to for a month or more.

It's good to be leaving, now. September just never goes well for me. My allergies flare up, the weather starts cooling down, and the Sun's angle as it heads southward again leaves the world lit like an undying afternoon for all the daylight hours, just reminding me that short nights and freezing temperatures are on the way.

August, on the other hand, now August is different. Bloody well hot, but so much goes on in August. It seems that every activities coordinator in Northwest Arkansas realises that time is running short, so that there is forever something to do. I started out this past August with a visit to the Tontitown Grape Festival, in its 106th reincarnation. Then there was the Demolition Derby, a must for late summer NWA. I realise that some of my International acquaintances may not be familiar with this brilliant past time, but illuminating the confusion is quite easy. A bunch of guys with stronger nerves than myself purchase antiquated automobiles destined for the scrap yard, get them running again, remove all glass, seats, and anything else unnecessary for individual operations. They meet at a predetermined, publicly available location, and brutally batter one another's vehicles. As a VW-driving, vaguely environmentally conscious citizen, I should not condone such unecological behavior, as the whole event is nothing but an oil-burning, shrapnel inducing affair, but dangit it's fun to watch. Then there was the Washington County fair, and some other outdoor event. I'm not sure what it was, but I know that I ate 4 funnel cakes in the last 6 weeks, so there must've been something else... A funnel cake is a heart attack, served on a paper plate. A pastry dough is squeezed through a funnel (AHA!) into a vat of cooking oil, quickly deep fried, then plopped onto a paper plate and coated in powdered sugar. And somehow, after 4 in one month, I am capable of ventricular activity.

The culmination of every August is, of course, the annual Eureka Springs, Arkansas Volkswagen Show. I went this year in a mini-caravan of 3 antique VW's to the little 'Swiss Village of the Ozark Mountains,' about a 45 minute drive from my hometown of Springdale. I own a 1978 Rabbit, turd brown in color, all original, and near showroom quality. It's a wonderful little car, if you're not in a hurry. Driving this car after having been a pickup truck man all my driving life required a severe shift in philosophy, and I think I've come through all right. I get a lot less hurried, riled, and worked up these days. I'll get there when I get there, and I'll worry about the problem at hand when I see it... The other vehicles in the parade over were my friend Adam's '77 Tie-dyed Westphalia, Lucy, and Tim's '67 yellow Kombi, unnamed as of yet. The ride home included John and Amber in their '79 Westphalia, and I'm sorry, I forget her name.

Any rate, seems I had more to mention, but I forget what. My next trick will be attaching a photo or 2... wish me luck...