enough already

I had dinner with a couple of friends tonight, one of whom was in from out of town, so we had lots of ground to cover. When our waiter made it clear we’d camped out in his station long enough, we left. So we stood in the Chuy’s parking lot for AN HOUR AND A HALF talking. By the time we left (and keep in mind this is well after dark – we were in the parking lot from roughly 9-10:30PM), my shirt was wet. With sweat. In the latter half of Ocfuckingtober (that’s the German spelling) at night. Enough already with the heat. Not only am I ready for the slight wardrobe change that comes with “winter” in Houston, I’m really, really tired of sweating. Really.

For lunch (yes, I ate out two meals today – it’s the Houston “fat city” way), I ate pho at Van Loc. I’ve never been sure how to say this word – I’ve always heard it pronounced foe, but that’s been from non-Vietnamese people. Tonight, one of the chicks I had dinner with said it’s pronounced fa. Good thing I just pointed at the menu. Anyway, it comes with all this great stuff in it, including noodles. They give you one of those wide, scoopy spoons to eat it. Which is fine for lapping up the broth and carrying pieces of the meat to your mouth, but it’s hell to try to get the noodles. I’d get a big noodle wad together and before I could get the thing to my mouth, it would all fall off the spoon, quite dramatically, and in the process shoot foe/fa all over my hair and shirt and I think on my dining companion. So it was soup on my shirt at lunch and sweat at dinner.

My lunch companion is a classical musician, and he was telling me about a piece he saw recently that involved 100 metronomes. Each was wound the same amount, but they were set at different speeds. When they were let loose, he said it sounded like rain. The fast ones slowed down faster than the slower ones (I hope that made sense), so eventually there were a lot going at a slower pace, and interesting rhythms started emerging. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, it got down to the final metronome
tick
tick
tick
tick
tick.
He said everyone was quiet and focused, waiting for that final tick. That sounds totally cool. Maybe because it’s a piece of “music” that I can understand. Because it is what it is. It’s not a treatise on the plight of the hummingbird or whatever. Hard to be too snotty about a bunch of ticking metronomes. Unless you’re an asshole.