March 26, 2013 - How Much Chicken Is Too Much?

Breakfast of Champions - 30g of protein

Two chicken breasts for lunch.

Grilled chicken, onions, bell peppers, jalapenos and a little cheese to hold it all together.

March 24, 2013 - Cheat Day #1

Two delicious chorizo, egg, and cheese tacos from El Taquito in Round Rock. #BestBreakfastTacos

Meatloaf Sub for lunch...kinda half-assed for a cheat day.

So I made up for it by having a Round Rock Donut for a snack.

Bolognese...yum.

March 23, 2013 - The day I forgot to take pictures

Canadian bacon omelette. Yummy.

...and, also not the actual burrito bowl I ate, but you get the picture.  Double beans, chicken, salsa, lettuce.

Again, I suck at remembering pictures, but grilled chicken, squash, and a Caesar salad.

Flash Food - March 21st

30g Whey protein for breakfast

Chicago Club with no bun for lunch. Turkey, spinach and bacon

Snacktime

Chicken and broccoli

Nice job, TXU Chat team

Transcript of a real chat I just has with a TXU Customer Service Agent.  I think their call avoidance strategy is not working so well.  No effort at all to resolve.  Wonder what questions they can answer?

Thank you for choosing TXU Energy. A representative will be with you shortly.

You are now chatting with 'Agent' - I changed the name to protect the innocent.

Agent: Hello.  Thank you for contacting TXU Energy.  My name is Agent.  May I have your name please?

Me: Steve. Hi, Agent.

Robert: Thank you. How may I assist you today, Steve?

Me: I just changed my plan and I was on Resident's Choice previously. Can you tell me where I can find info on that rate plan? I was paying much more than I had previously thought.

Me: I thought Resident's Choice was pegged to Nat Gas but apparently was wrong.

Agent: You may call our toll free number 1-800-550-9803. One of our customer service representatives will be more than happy to provide you that information.

I will give them a call later to try to determine what changed because that is the ONLY WAY TO FIND OUT.

On a serious note

It has been nine years and at some point tomorrow  I will still get a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat.  Everyone says, "It's one of those things where you will always remember where you were when it happened."  That part is easy for me.  I took off September 10th to finish packing for our second trip to Italy on vacation.  I landed in Rome just before the first plane hit and got to the hotel within moments of the second plane hitting.  We called my mom to let her know we made it safely only to have her tell us to turn on the news immediately.


Not experiencing the tragedy in America was probably a blessing in some ways but the feeling of isolation in Europe was profound.  There was an outpouring of support from most people we saw but that made us feel even more like we were under a microscope.


My immediate response was abject fear for my friends.  Deb Largen (Bloom, at the time) lived in Albany but worked in the city almost every week.  Her 'home away from home' was the Marriott across from the Trade Center.  Her former boyfriend, John Reo, worked for Cantor Fitzgerald.  Our close friends JP and Molly Urrabazo were in New York for work/fun and we weren't sure which dates (We later found out they had breakfast at Windows on the World just a few days earlier).  We amassed a $600 phone bill trying to track everyone down. 


We talked to JP and Molly and were relieve to find they were already back in Austin.  Thank goodness for fortunate scheduling.  Then I talked to Deb.  She wasn't in NYC that week.  Minor miracle...but John was at work that morning and he was unaccounted for.  We would (months later) get confirmation he was in the office when the building collapsed.  


John was a late bloomer who had finally found his way and was on his way toward a very promising career.  We had played pool and had dinner a few times during my time at GE when he and Deb were dating.  Nine years later and I am still outraged at the indiscriminate way that John and the other 2,976 souls were stopped in the prime of their lives.  There is no solution, military or judicial, that will make me feel better.  Nothing will bring them back to their families.  I kiss my wife and kids every time I think about it.


I don't want to talk about our vacation or our story over the next ten days.  To summarize:

• We were terrified
• We were numb
• We were sad
• We were stuck in Italy with no way to get anywhere
• We tried to make the most despite the sadness
• We met very nice people from many countries and cultures that grieved with us
• Our flight home was the first Trans-Atlantic flight since 9/11 for the crew we flew with and they seemed as shocked and terrified to be on the plane as we were
• We decided on the way home it was time to start trying to have a baby

Every September I get sad, mad, then relieved it wasn't worse.  I look back now and still have great pride in how the country reacted in the aftermath.  But nine years later I hate many of the things it has done to our country.  No soapbox today, but all the people that used this horrendous event to drive a wedge and create fear, uncertainty, and panic should be ashamed.  They have shown the worst side of humanity when so many were showing what is best in us with their willingness to sacrifice.

I don't ever want it to get easier.  I want it to hurt like new every year.  Those 2,977 deserve at least that much.

What's the worst that could happen...

In honor of my good friend, Bobbie Latham, I thought I would take a shot at documenting a few of the experiences from my youth.  Some of this will sound tame by today's standards.  Some of it will sound ridiculous.  Some of this will sound like outright lies.  If I wasn't there, I would probably think they were lies.  But I was, and as stupid as they sound, we did it and survived.  These things happened before the advent of Jackass so any similarities are purely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER:  I am not yet old, but I am getting there.  I may mis-remember some of the events and participants but i assure the experiences are quite real.  For those of you who were there, please feel free to correct me and get the whole story straight.  I can use the help.

Floating the River - West Texas Style

In my small West Texas hometown, Jayton, It was rare that we got enough rain to really make the rivers run.  Now that I live in Austin I see it every spring and it seems natural.  But since we didn't see it often we had no idea how to take advantage of it.  Here is a story about how not to take advantage of it.

The summer after my Senior year of high school we got more rain than any other time I can remember growing up.  The rivers, especially the Brazos, got up near the bottom of the bridges.  Being young and dumb, we thought that was a challenge to our manhood.  So the first clear day after the rain stopped we gathered up a truckload of inner tubes and headed for the river.  We had an iron-clad, surefire plan.  It went something like this:

• Assumptions
• River is flowing fast
• We are young and all-powerful
• Everyone here is a strong swimmer
• We know NOTHING about fluid dynamics
• Plan
• Round up all the inner tubes we can find
• Take a truck the bridge where we will get out in FOUR HOURS (<--key point)
• Take another truck to the bride where we plan to get in
• Get in
• Float
• Get out

I mean, seriously, we are grown men.  Graduates.  Eighteen and in our PRIME.  What's the worst that could happen.

We are at the river and ready to go.  The sun is shining and the water is fantastic.  After a nice hike through some mesquite and oak bushes (no trees in West Texas) we are in the water.  It is everything we thought it would be.

Great Beginnings

The first hour on the river was awesome.  The pace of the river and makes it seem a lot less likely that we will see any snakes which is good because so much dirt has been churned up the water looks like chocolate milk and you can't see your hand an inch underwater.  It becomes obvious very quickly I won't be wearing these clothes again because they are permanently dyed the orange that you get when you buy one of those 'West Texas Red Dirt' shirts.  Bleach has no shot against that nasty crap.

"Hey does anybody know how far we've gone."

"Know but I think it will be about two more hours."

"Good.  This is fun but, damn, it is hot...and I am getting a little hungry.  Two hours til lunch.  I think I can make it."

"Dude, just shut up and enjoy the water."

"Whatever."

SIDEBAR:  I am the palest person in history.  I am wearing a tank top and a hat.  Seemed reasonable because I put on a TON of Coppertone SPF 4000 Waterproof, Sweatproof, Eclipse-like sun block.  What's the worst that could happen?

Where the river is narrow, it is really moving and we are having the time of our lives.  Where it is wide, we have a nice leisurely chance to rest a little, let go of the tubes, swim to the shore and jump back in.  Good times.  I didn't know anything about New Braunfels, the Comal, or the Guadalupe but I was certain this was awesome.

Our story takes a turn

Two hours later we are in a place that none of us has ever seen.  I spent 99% of my days through the age of eighteen in the 900 square miles of Kent County.  I had seen, I thought, all of it but this place on the Brazos was somewhere new.

"Hey, who said it was only two more hours."

"Me.  We're almost there.  You will see the other bridge in just a minute.  Quit whining."

"Think I'm getting sunburned.  I hope we get there soon.  I hate getting this burned at the beginning of the summer."

"Where are we.  I don't recognize this part."

"I think it looks different because there is so much water in the river."

"Yeah, maybe that's it."  

That wasn't it.  The river is a lot longer and meanders a lot more than we thought.  We were in the middle of nowhere and were weren't getting anywhere, fast.  I could feel the blisters forming on my shoulders.  Time for a new plan.  I hid inside my tube and submerged myself all the way to my chin.  The hat shaded my face and the water, as I said before, was too full of mud to let any sun through...or so I thought.

Hour Four

"It has to be the next corner."

Hour Five

"This is definitely it."

Hour Seven

"We are going to die.  This is how it all ends.  I hope it happens quick when it happens.  We are so stupid."

Hour Seven and a half

"Is that a bridge."

"Hell, yes.  That is a bridge and there is a car on it.  I hope they don't drive off."

"HEY, HEY, don't leave.  We are dying.  Please, don't leave."

"Hey, Matt.  Is that your dad's Bronco."

"Yeah, I think it is."

"Oh, Jesus, we are going to live.  It's a freakin' miracle."

So we start to swim a little with the tubes.  Now they we can see the light at the end of the tunnel we have a little renewed energy and we get there pretty quick.  UNDERSTATEMENT WARNING: When I get out, Ronnie says, "Steve, your shoulders and face don't look so good."


When I crawled into the back of his old Bronco my shoulders hurt so bad I thought I would pass out.  Not sunburn bad, flash fire burn bad.  As he drove us back into town, I realized more blisters were forming on my shoulders and back.  It was pretty obvious any work that required a shirt was probably out of the question.  Through the haze of my pain, I could hear Ronnie telling everyone, "Yep.  They were ready to send up an airplane and a helicopter to look for you but I told'em I would come down to bridge to see if I could see ya.  And sure enough, there ya'll were."


We made it back and it was pretty clear that our long trip and lack of getting back to town had become a pretty big deal.  All of our parents were together at the Sheriff's office trying to decide what kind of search and rescue (or possible search and recovery, if you know what I mean) mission to mount.  The only good news was this -- We scared everyone bad enough that we weren't really in trouble.  Today, we probably would have made the evening news.


I would like to tell you we all learned a great lesson that day, but if you know any of us you will know we never remembered the bad stuff for long.  It was all good fun.