Natsukashii - (Japanese) adj. dear, beloved, old, nostalgic

In this weeks issue of the Fredericksburg Standard-Radio Post, I ran across a letter to the editor written by Nicole Hernandez. Nicole is a college student, and misses the town she grew up in:

More and more [our town] belongs to the tourists. . . .Perhaps we should have seen this coming when we lost the old [movie] theater to a clothing store. Or when kids could no longer skateboard on the sidewalks, or when yet another bank popped up in the yellow pages. . . . Our small town. . .should not be given up as an offering to the gods of the city.

I hate to say it, Nicole, but it's too late. We have appeased the gods of the city by luring more unsuspecting tourists to town and taken as much of their money as we could without asking them to drop off their wallets at the city limits. By the time you were going to The Cookie Jar (a combination bakery/coffeeshop), high school students looking for something to do on Saturday had been run off Main Street, and off to San Antonio, Austin and Kerrville. I remember reading letters to the editors in the mid 80s from tourists who complained about "all the kids on Main Street" making noise driving up and down.

Well, the tourists won. Now teens drive to other cities to entertain themselves so they don't disturb the sleep of the tourists. Shhh!

Most of the businesses on Main Street had turned to tourism by then because most of the locals were driving to San Antonio or Austin to shop at the malls with the big chain stores where they could save a few dollars. I even knew people who would drive to Kerrville to buy gas because they could save a dime a gallon! Once the citizens of Fredericksburg abandoned Main Street, there was no one to turn to but the tourists.

That's when we lost the spirit of Fredericksburg. The tourists didn't steal it. They started using it while we were in San Antonio saving a few bucks.

This morning a tall, leggy brunette in her mid 30s came into the office. She was wearing a tight, hot pink outfit designed to attract attention. Her boobs and butt were in violation of at least two laws of gravity. (One of the gals in the office commented that she'd had a little work done.) Her slacks were pulled up so high on her hips that you could see how she wears her hair, if you know what I mean.

She came in with an older guy driving a sporty, little red convertible (". . .Baby you’re much 2 fast. . ."), and whose wallet had to weigh as much as me.

I complained to my cousin, "Life's not fair, dude!"

"Shit, she’d run away from him and to us in a heart beat…..our wit and charm alone would make her drool….of course the wallet thing would ruin us," he said.

"Do you really think girls like 'Pull my finger' jokes?"

"Of course they do."

"Ya know, that could explain why we're both single. . . "

"Hmmmmm."

After a show on AMC called "Bleep!", I can't decide which side I come down on.

They showed a scene from "The Bourne Supremacy" in it's original and sanitized version. Since I haven't seen the movie, I can't say which is better, but I will describe them for you. The scene takes place after a car accident, and Matt Damon is pointing the gun at his driver. In the original scene, there is a shot (which I can only describe as lingering) of the driver slumped over the steering wheel with blood soaking his hair. The scene then cuts to an over the shoulder shot towards Damon. The edited scene starts with Damon pointing the gun, then cuts directly to the over the shoulder shot.

I cannot, for the life of me, understand why there was a 30 second scene of a dead guy with blood is his hair is central to the theme of the movie. But again, I haven't seen it.

Then they showed this scene from "Traffic" where a woman sells her body for drugs. the original scene had no nudity, but lots of thrusting. The edited scene eliminated the over the shoulder shot of the bored woman and showed the guy giving her money. Now here I don't understand the cut. It's obvious that the woman has no desire for the man paying her, and that she's only doing it for money. The cut scene deletes this bit of subtext

One director, I wish I could remember who, said that the technology exists to eliminate Jews and Blacks from films in the same way film sanitizers eliminate violence, sex and profanity. Maybe a group of directors need to "sanitize" a film by removing blacks or Jews to see how these edits stand up in court.

I think that someone ought to apply the sex/violence filter to the Bible.

If Adam and Eve were the first people on Earth, then Cain and Abel, their sons, married women who were their sisters. Genesis implies that incest is okay! If it's in the Bible, it must be true!

The whole David and Goliath thing? Deleted! Excessive violence. The Sodom and Gemmorah story? Lot offers his daughters to the crowd instead of the men he has taken into his home (the homosexual theme has to go and the whole sex out of wedlock thing, too). Song of Solomon? Gone! Too suggestive. The Book of Revelations? Way too violent for children. Gone!

Isn't sanctimony fun?

Day Six without cigarettes begins with no major cravings. In fact, this whole process has been remakarbly craving free.

I started smoking in 1984 while working nights and going to school during the day. I smoked for ten years, finally quitting, the first time, in October 1995. I was smoke free for 8 years. Then one night, after Oktoberfest had ended, the beer supervisors were sitting around behind the main bar finishing up a keg, when I bummed a smoke from one of the vendors.

Slowly, I started smoking more and more, and by the following May, I had quit. Then in November, the server crashed at work. The rest is history.

I dreaded quitting because of the withdrawal symptoms. But I'm finding I miss the little smoking rituals more--Tapping the pack, holding the cigarette, etc--than I miss actual inhaling the smoke. Weird.

But on the upside--According to the the math I did a few days back about the costs of smoking--I've saved (counting today) $18!

I played golf this weekend. There I was, sitting at 93 as I teed up on 18 at Lady Bird. I was hitting good, putting good, and I thought for sure I had a 99 in the bag. I hooked my tee shot into the trees on the left of the fairway.

Using my 3-wood, I line up my next shot. I hit the third tree down range, and the ball shoots out ninety degrees into the middle of the fairway. Using my three wood again, I drive the club head a foot into the ground, squirting the ball twenty yards down the fairway.

Okay. Three wood's cursed. Not a problem. Switch to 3 Iron. In order to par the hole, I need to sink this. I blade the ball but manage to land near the green. A quick chip onto the green. I can still salvage 99, but I can't three putt.

I don't.

I four putt.

Stupid game.

Day Four - And Call for Assistance

Day four with cigarettes has being going pretty well. The is a burning at the back of my mouth that I've associated with nicotine cravings, but it's nothing some water, or a mint can't fix.

I spent most of yesterday working on my kilt.

I put the waist band on and did a test fitting. I discovered that I made the under apron too small! You can see that several pleats are hanging below the lower edge of the apron. FEH!

Has anyone successfully made an American-style kilt using a mathematical formula that worked? Could you share it with me?

This is my second kilt. My first kilt (above) turned out okay, but I seem to have lost all the complicated calculations I used to make it.

Anyway, I need to put snaps on the waistband, and then I'll put the black buckles on some black or tan strapping. That will keep the apron flat (I hope!). Then I want to make some sort of side pockets to put on either side. I don't want to use a sporran.

So if anyone wants to help me out . . .