That old song and dance

Lopez and I saw Young@Heart this weekend, which is a movie about senior citizens singing renditions of popular modern songs as part of a choir. Who knew someone could actually make me like a song by Coldplay?

It's a very sweet, funny and inspirational documentary that was bittersweet but somehow always uplifting. There were times when it felt almost as if we were watching a PBS special, but that's a compliment more than a criticism. Oh, and if you think a movie about a bunch of old folks singing songs that suddenly have extra layers of hopefulness and a sense of mortality would be at all sentimental ... well, their version of "Fix You" kills me every time. And when they go to the prison and sing ... agh, sorry, that sound you hear is my heart breaking all over again.

During the movie, this was my tally:

Wistful smiles: 14

Heavy sighs: 8

Teared up: at least five times

Full-on wept: three times

I guess my kindergarten teacher was right — I really am sensitive. That's one for you, you old bag!

Spiced ham, part 2

Awww ... the Internet really does care about me. Why else would it send me this e-mail?

"Relax. Take a Deep Breath.
We have the answers you seek."

Enlightenment and "impressive growth!" Thanks, Internet!

Today, I am an Austinite

If you live in Austin, or if you've even spent more than a few hours here, you'll notice something: Almost everyone wears flip-flops.

It used to drive me crazy, what with the constant slapping sound everywhere you went combined with the lazy shuffle that seems to go with it. And it's not just the college girls going on White House visits, either. Men, women, old, young, at home, in the office or at a fancy restaurant, flip-flops are everywhere. Longtime Austinites wear their chanclas like a badge of honor, and will even wear them when it frickin' freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth.

I personally never liked flip-flops because my memories of them go back to the 70s, when they were made of rubber and would gouge the skin between your big toe and whatever the toe next to it is called, while driving those damn knobs into both your immortal soul and the soles of your feet at the same time. But now, after six (seven?) years of living in Austin, I've given in.


I tell myself that my new sandals are more like my beloved huaraches, but no matter how thin you slice it, it's still baloney. And that's OK. Like Picard and the Borg, I get absorbed further into the Austin lifestyle every day, and it is futile to resist. My flip-flops are comfortable, and my toes are enjoying their newfound freedom.

I've been fa-lap fa-lap fa-lapping around the office all morning, no doubt sending a duck-footed call recognized and answered by fellow Austinites everywhere.