Playstation 3 and No Waiting

I was fortunate enough to grow up in the age of video gaming. My family wasn't on the cutting edge of new technology, but we usually had a game console of one type or another. My first was an Atari 2600 my brother and I got for Christmas. And much later, I had an NES. I remember my weekends and school breaks were filled by my brother and me staying up all night trading back and forth until we defeated, or were defeated by, whatever video game we rented. I have a Super NES stowed away in my garage that my brother bought me our last Christmas before he passed away. I haven't been much into video games since then; school, work, whatever has gotten in the way.

Today, I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Cliché, yes, but true. We were doing some last minute shopping at Wal-mart and I ran back to the toy section to grab some stocking stuffers for Aiden. I was perusing the Hot Wheels when I heard a garbled message on the giant voice. What I heard was “…60 gigabyte hard drive. Only two left. First come, first serve.” It took me just a moment to process what was said and another moment to drop what I was doing and race around the corner to electronics. I didn’t see a horde of people, so I assumed I missed out. But then I asked the cashier if I had in fact missed them and he said, surprisingly, that I was first. I said I’d take it and immediately called Vanessa at the front of the store. I made my purchase and they actually escorted me out and to my car. I guess there have been incidents of muggings especially on Christmas Eve.

Needless to say, I now have a PS3. I don’t have any games yet, and in fact don’t have a TV that I want to connect it to (I’m waiting until after the holidays to purchase my flat-panel TV). But, I didn’t buy it strictly for the game system, it’s also a Blu-ray disc player. That’s gonna make some new Blu-ray videos look great on that new TV. Good luck getting me out of the house!

I guess Santa stuffed my stocking early,

Marty

Holiday Cheer

It’s that time of year again; time to get into the Christmas spirit. I admit we’re gearing up a little late, but we’re getting there nonetheless.

Aiden has been asking for outdoor decorations since we returned from our Thanksgiving trip to Oklahoma. Unfortunately, weather and timing haven’t been so generous here in San Antonio. I know you’re thinking that it hasn’t been that cold here, but it has…for San Antonio (30-40 degrees). And there have been nice days, like yesterday (80’s), that are just too beautiful to not get out and enjoy AWAY from the house. Fortunately, I was released from work a little early Friday afternoon and headed straight home to get to work on a surprise for Aiden. He was more than thrilled to see the house lit up when he arrived.


(I think we're going to add a little more, but at least it's a start)

And because the weather was so beautiful yesterday, we went on another trip to miniature golf. Aiden did an even better job of gripping the club correctly and lining up to hit the ball. Before our golf outing, we ate at a new Mexican food restaurant. Don’t worry; you’ll get to go too when you come for a visit.

When we got home, the dogs got into the holiday spirit and begrudgingly donned their gay apparel.


(That's Aiden's hat, but he wanted to share with Bailey)


(And who do you think will be pulling the Grinch's sleigh this year?)

In the mean time, we’re trying to decide if we should wait until after the baby is born to celebrate Christmas. I suppose it would only be right to wait until his FIRST Christmas to officially let him partake in his “Baby’s First Christmas.” But if we wait, then Aiden will get another present “from his little brother.” I don’t think I’ll ask Aiden for his input, but feel free to let me know what you think.

Hope your holiday is filled with blessings,

Marty

Texas-themed weekend

I was supposed to be up for a move next summer, but that will most assuredly be delayed for another year. And if the last 24 hours have held any sort of premonition of where I will be for the next year, then Texas is the place. I say this because although I’ve been here for more than two years, I’ve yet to sense the real cowboy persona of Texas deeper than now.

It started with my staff holiday party last night. Someone/s who must have too much excitement for the upcoming San Antonio Rodeo decided the theme would be "Texas" (big buckles and cowboy hats, boots, redneck, or something along those lines). Surprisingly the crowd mostly pulled it off; complete with attire, eating Texas BBQ, and line dancing. The party had a genuine feel of the great state of Texas; even without the smell of manure.

Then today, we drove up to Austin to visit my cousin’s family as they celebrated their daughter’s 3^rd b-day (Happy Birthday, Emma).

(This wasn't the first time the plastic horse entered the birthday cake then Emma's mouth. I would have done the same if it was my party!)

(Aiden wasn't in the partying mood)

Their suburban home isn’t a sprawling ranch, but somehow they did manage to have 4 (yes 1-2-3-4) ponies circumnavigating the backyard. The kids even abused a horse piñata (Tex-Mex).

(Emma and her Mom on a "Harley")

Then to top off our Texas-themed chain of events when we arrived back in San Antonio, we ate dinner at Texas Land and Cattle Company. Continuing the theme certainly wasn’t planned and hadn’t even dawned on us until afterwards.

It may sound like we’re getting a little Texas in our blood, but I’m not going out to buy a rusty star for the outside of my house just yet. If you’ve been here, you know what I’m talking about.

Yee haw, ya’ll,

Marty

Trip to California

One good thing about the military is all the great people you meet. Some you’re stationed with are reassigned to places like Northern California, others (oddly enough, civilian) you meet when you’re deployed to places like Djibouti, Africa and they’re filming a documentary that is picked up by CNN’s Anderson Cooper 360.

My door is always open to friends, family, alien life forms, etc. who are looking for a place to crash while visiting whatever interesting (or boring) place life happens to take me. Likewise, most people I know often extend the same invitation. It’s often said, but seldom followed up (or expected) that one will ever come to visit those friends.

One friend, we’ll call Sean, so happens to be stationed in Northern California. And conveniently enough, another civilian media-type friend, Aaron, lives in San Francisco. I briefly lived in the Bay area before joining the military, but haven’t been back since. Furthermore, I haven’t been skiing since I left New Mexico a few years ago. So, after some mediocre planning I took the opportunity to visit those friends and knock out some skiing and a reunion with the City by the Bay.

After a meal, some pool (I was beaten relentlessly), a couple of beers, a nap, another meal, and a couple of phone calls, Sean and I headed down to SF and met up with Aaron. Aaron lives with about 14 other people in an artist collective. He has a really cool pad and the few roommates I met were reasonably friendly. We went out to a few bars and had some drinks then called it a night. The next day we visited a little more of the city and then parted company with Aaron.


(This is what I don't miss about California)

Sean and I went back to his apartment and gathered some luggage and some food and headed for Lake Tahoe.

We got to Tahoe a little late but had no problem waking up to hit the slopes the next morning. We crossed the road from our hotel, rented our equipment and headed up the gondola for the few trails that were open so early in the season at Heavenly. The skiing wasn’t great, but was much better than what’s available in San Antonio.


(Check out that view. That's Lake Tahoe in the background, but I guess you had to be there)

After as much skiing as the lift operators would allow, we went back to the room, cleaned up, and went over to the casino (conveniently located 700 feet away). Eight hours later, we called it a night, err, morning and turned in.


(This was par for the course; I had 20, got the match bet--same suit, but lost the hand)

The next day was supposed to be another at least half-day of skiing, but we opted to go back to the casino and donate some more money. Four hours later, we broke even and called it quits.

We headed back down the mountain to Sean’s apartment, stopping only for sushi, and turned in for the night. The next morning at 3:30, Sean dragged my half-dead butt back to the airport and slowed down just enough for me to not injure myself as I leapt and rolled from his truck. This wasn’t out of hostility; I think he was still asleep. I’ll give him a call sometime to see if he made it home okay, but for now it’s back to the daily grind.

Speeding through vacations one day at a time,

Marty