2007 is upon me, and I can see this month, this year flying past me quicker than I can find words to adequately
to describe it.  It took me a long time to decide to write a damn thing, and I'm trying real hard to come up with
something entertaining.  It's not working... At a time like this, it is indeed time to reach back to hallowed
antiquity and bring you this, a tale of two time lines, violently brought together, smashed if you will, straight to
your computer screen.  I spent last night in a Fort Worth courtroom to take care of a ticket that I was given by
a nice policeman following a heartbreaking Cowboys loss.  I left the Buck-Young household, six Shiners later,
and got popped going down the well traveled, oft speeded upon Beach Street.  I, of course, was all "yes, sir"
this and "no, sir" that.  He took my information, came back to the car and asked me to sign the ticket.  At this
point, he dropped the bomb six and a half years in the making.  It turns out that a local warrant had been issued
for my arrest, stemming from a speeding ticket.  From October 27th, 1999 to be exact.  1999?!  Is this for real?  
In 1999 I was broke, working for a Mercedes dealership that was being bought out, and I was caught speeding
in the left lane, late for a date that would eventually just stand me up.  If I typed all night, I couldn't remember
that girl's name.  I do know that she at one time worked at the Chili's I was meeting her at, and she had been
crying up to the point that I showed up, ready to go wherever with her.  Such was my luck with girls in the
twilight of the twentieth century.  No doubt I had some profound effect on her.  Back to reality though, the
judge and I both laughed at the age of the offense and he took off the warrant status, and he also kept it off my
record.  He even offered to let me pay it out with a $60 payment per month, but I politely declined, and came
up with a better offer.  I told him I would pay it outright, since I could now, seven years later.  So now I have
probation for a traffic offense following a Cowboys loss, and I have to take defensive driving to wrap up the
old offense from forever ago.  I find an odd fascination with the revelation that somehow this thing was still
active and had not been dismissed before now for whatever reason.  Odd, I suppose, because it's an
opportunity for a completely different Steve to actively clean up after an old Steve.  To say I was out of
control back then is something of an understatement.  We could run down the checklist of all the things that
have changed since then, but that would be a long process and it is well mapped on these pages anyways; care
only at your own risk.  For those wondering, I got the ticket for 84 in a 65, in the Thunderbird of all cars, nit
the red Mustang.  Amazing, if only because the slow as slugs Thunderbird was travelling at a pavement peeling
84 miles per hour.  Cody should remember that particular 5.0 Mustang was sitting in the barn, while we were
doing heads and roller rockers for a reason now that I can't quite remember.  What an amazing memory I have
sometimes.  I wish though, that I could forget alot of that sorry year and with any luck I will, one MGD at time.
Welcome to Rants 2007, the much anticipated sixth year of this
internet foolishness.  I try to briong you slanted facts and not
so fair reporting on things ranging from the political to the very
personal.  I do take guest Rants, and they can be submitted here
The older I get the less sharp I feel my written word becomes.  I rarely go for the back to back entries, but I was
possessed these past two nights by either my burning desire to 'tell it like it is' or simply just a guilty
conscience trying to make up for lost time, the time not spent poring out useless internet anecdotes.  So, with
that in mind, I looked at the literary content of the former, the vaguely descriptive narrative of an old ticket that
comes to call in 2007.  It's not bad, but it is certainly not the biting words I'm accustomed to using in a
poignant, mustang-tbird.com worthy manner.  There are also some odd paragraphs from last night that really
become more shameful the more I sober up this morning.  I should be shot for subjecting you people to that
kind of alcohol inspired tomfoolery, the equivalent of, in my mind, the highest form of literary kitsch.  It's good
for only a cheap laugh at best. I'll blame all this on the recent subject material at hand.  I have been bereft of
epiphanies, accusations, and/or drama at large for some time now, and for the most part I have only had *gasp*
good things to say.  This situation, all in all, isn't necessarily bad from a day to day standpoint, but it does
make for rather boring internet reading.  This is the definitive reason why you don't normally get back to backs
from me, much less the hereto unheard of (I love redundancies, don't you?) threepeat.  Truth is, I miss the old
html, and the opportunity to bring you hastily conceived wry commentary on my or others very small doings
in this big world is at an all time low.  We find ourselves at a crossroads, a time where there is no one is calling
me a 'prude', no is calling me a drunk, no one is locking people up in fences in oh-so-dirty Benbrook, and no
men are to my knowledge wearing women's jeans and skipping bar tabs.  Flimsy, right?  When all else fails, I
can always write about nothing, and that's what you've got here; an overly wordy, convoluted, self serving
article about Jack's website of nothing more than youthful waste and compound sentences.  By reading this,
you are indeed feeding my sickness, and for that alone you should be ashamed.  So, this is the end of this article
for January 19th, there will be more to come, and that's probably a good thing.  Maybe I can make up for this
very, very poor one and the ones before it...
In 39 days, I'm going to be united the most holy of holy unions and I think at this point, I couldn't be more
ready than I am right now.  I've been watching these days and months fly by since November, and everyday
that goes by seems like it's no more than an echo, something you heard and then moved on.  Rent is due
tomorrow, but I'm thinking of a million things right now and lot of them don't have a damn thing to do with me
right now, so much as they have to do with me in a month's time.  How has this happenened?  Did I miss a boat
somewhere? Think of all the tired cliches you want, but time in this particular instance has flown by at a rate
previously unknown to me.  Wedding, wedding, wedding:  it is what has driven me and will continue to drive
me in the coming days and weeks until the big day arrives, and it has spilled into my work, the hallowed ground
of self absorbed-ness.. place.  All I can think about is jacking up the next work order in order to make an extra
buck for later on down the road.  I have this sneaking suspicion tat I am somehow not going to have enough
money for all the expenses I think I am about to or have incurred since I popped the question.  It is a very real
nagging doubt, people.  So much so, that the once nice guy at the collision center in Corinth that would let you
pay whatever you wanted and he'd stress out trying to figure out how to make it work, has turned into a
miserly, dollar upon dollar guy who mercilessly overcharges and does it with a sheepish 27 year old grin and
firm handshake.  Yes, I am the living breathing embodiment of the clean cut cutthroat who nobody expected
would snap, only I snapped at work folks.  No more free stuff with me.  Used to, I'd try to control people at
work with my good deeds and good intentions and impeccable work ethic.  Continually, that left me up at work
for extended hours trying to clean up the customer service mess I made by trying to be such an out of the way
nice guy.  The funny thing is now that I'm thinking of two people and we have been brought together with the
greatest of intentions, I've become more of a ruthless, heartless businessman than I ever was as a single, fun
loving happy-go-lucky service writer.  Maybe, I did this because I realized I was supplying funds for two, or
possibly three.  Or maybe, in a way, I like the new far and   away persona I have adapted up at work.  By
cutting the crap and getting down to what really matters..  money..  I've instantly become happier at the
workplace.  They say money of course doesn't buy happiness, but my famous retort would be "don't be so
narrow."  The root of all evil we know is of course money, but I think it is a byproduct of a society that forces
us to make in order to exist peacefully.  In other words, I have to work,  I have to work to stay alive, and to
have a roof over my head at night.  In this way, money does in fact buy happiness, because I am never happier
than when I see someone that I need to provide for not have to worry about that next rent payment.  If that
means I have to lean into the customers a little more, then hey, you shouldn't have wrecked your shit, you no
driving Denton prick.  Mango hates you.  And you'll feel it too when you back into a pole, ask me for and
estimate and then try to blame it on some phantom girl North Texas student whilst asking me for discount and I
gouge your lying ass on printed paperwork.  In bigger news of course, after a year an a half of drifting about in a
GM, I brought the Mustang home, the no longer "Project LQD SNK", but the "LQD SNK" completed and
done, no longer a project, completed two months and however many days after that fateful February
afternnoon in 2006, courtesy of a certain young sibling of mine.  Kevin was total trooper through this.  He
helped make right what was wrong, and was there to start the rebuild and he saw it through to the very end.  
He'll be okay, and maybe one day, I'll teach him to drive the damn thing.  This is about all that's going on.  It is
storming outside, so I think I'll have another Shiner before this ridiculous Texas spring weather pounds us again.
If  I said there was a lot of catching up to do, that would be a powerful understatement.  In all the time I have
bothered to update the site, I’ve always managed to give little insights into the do nothings of typical days
in the life of Steve Blackwell.  Most of these times, I was musing over cars or worse yet girls and the inherent
problems they can pose on a young twenty-something male.  I guess this new entry is just that, a completely
new chapter for me and the website at large, simply because this website has never had another Blackwell in the
house unitl now.  Ah yes, the bad mother Rucker has become the wonderful Mrs. Blackwell and I am a lucky
married man.  The announcement is kind of a redundant at this point: anyone who still bothers to come here via
the miracle of the internet was at the wedding.  That was such a wonderful day.. not only because of the whole
wedding thing, but because of all the people that were there and were very happy and enjoyed themselves.  For
you guys, it was all worth it.. the planning, the musice, the cost ( oh God, the cost) the food, the chapel, the
tuxedos, wow!  Everything went so ridiculously well, it was, for lack of better words, surreal.  I felt like I waqs
just watching everything go by so fast and then it was over.  I was amazed to sit back hours after the wedding
with Dema and we both had to catch our breath.  It was a perfect day.  Then, of course, we traveled out of
town for the next wekk after we got settled in here at the new apartment.  I have 500 pictures of that trip and a
whole lot of really awesome memories that I am pretty sure I beaten over the heads of the people who have
seen them.  I took some good pictures of that beach front wonderland and I took some excessive pictures of my
lovely wiife, much to her chagrin no doubt.  I’m a fiend with a digital camera.  Very early in this sites own
history it was en vogue to take a conventional picture and then have to scan it, resize it, and then post it.  I
really have no reason to not post pictures these days, but yes, I’m a little lazy and a little overwhelmed by
the sheer amount of photo information I have accrued since thoses days and I just keep taking more and keeping
them and wishing I could post them.  I could hire a website assisitant and keep that covered up for the next six
months before I took another picture.  And that’s really about all I can tell you about the Cancun trip that I
can type.  Some things, just don’t need to be said to you guys, you understand.   Oh, yes I drank a lot and
nutured a very real beginning and appreciation for a finely rolled cigar.  The Swishers were great, great fun
before the trip but, I know better now.  It will be extremely hard to go back to the $2.59 pack of five flimsy
cigars knowin there are better and more worthwhile tobacco products out there.  Just add another vice to the list
for me.  So we got back, I went back to work and I was there four days before I went to the dealership across
the street and left with a new 350Z, a car I never really expected to be able to get, much less one with 10 miles
on it.  It cost me however, as I had to trade in not only the venerable, still hot to this day `93 300ZX, but my
true blue, trooper GM that I have come to respect through and through.  Yes, the good ol’ Camaro has
moved on.  After two fun years and %$*& load of miles, it was time to part ways.  In a lot of ways, many
ways, this was significant and a very hard thing to do.  You can read about me gloating about the car on these
very pages in what feels like not very long ago.  It was much harder to get rid of this car than the ’88 GT or
even the ’83 280ZX.  I don’t understand the comraderie that can be built with something as mundane
as, ultimately, a bunch of moving plastic and metal parts.  I’m a litlle sad, but I think it is just because I am
aware of what the car got me through and the good times I had in it.  It saw me through this whole meet-date-
propose-marry Dema thing, without problems and other thn the times I ran it out of fuel (along with Val,
Dema, & Steve) it never, ever stranded me (..except for that time in Lake Whitney..  That was my bad though, I
ignored the warning signs.).  So, good journey, and good bye to two great cars that defintely helped get me here
today.  I have a bright orange 350Z now though.. it’s really orange.  I could put TANG on the license plate,
it’s that orange.  And the AC works.  And the t-tops don’t leak.  And the carpet is new.  It’s really
cool.  I like driving my new wife around in it and coming home to our new place and chilling with all our new
stuff.  It’s really cool, too.  I need a new cell phone though..  Maybe one with voicemail? Lastly, the annual
July 3rd Extravaganza was postponed this year due to the book of Genesis coming to pass in north Texas.  It
has rained for 50 days and 50 nights for those still counting.  I haven’t been on the lake once, I haven’t
seen this sun for more than thirty minutes a t a time since I got back from Mexico.  It is retarded, and the
Blackwell homestead in Johnson County was a literal bog full of wet swampy goodness.  We are not done, we
are not beaten, and we are certainly not going to let this thing die this year.  I have my own reasons for keeping
this thing going and July 3rd 8 on the 9th year doesn’t make sense.  It doesn’t make sense people!  Stay
alert and wait for the word. When you get an e-mail that says go to the liquor store, do it!
Another night at the Blackwell apartment and the third Rant (or 'blog' if you wish) in a week's time.  Amazing,
one might say, utterly redundant if you ask another.  I sometimes think back on the past week and try to
remember the small goings on of certain peoples and most importantly myself and think, " is this Rant
worthy?'  Many times, almost all the time, of course the answer is very much no, nothing is so important for
me as to take time out of my very busy married life day and selfishly workaholic state to waste my time, not to
mention yours by writing about a bunch of crap you won't remember tomorrow.  As such, I derive little
pleasure from writing this the (at the very least) 43rd entry into the seven year gossip column pasted onto any
website that will hold it.  These days, folks like to talk about who's going on with who.  These days, I like to
laugh a little bit to my MGD inebriated self, 'cause I something you don't...  I know what is in store for say, the
Mustang, the T-bird, and yes the newly acquired Z and its very monthly payment.  That car is as orange as I
have knowledge folks, do not underestimate me.  That said,  I laugh, because the X-Rucker and I are looking at a
new way of moving our married selves around in some kind of faux luxury vehicle we can but shouldn't afford.  
I knew this would happen one day: I go into a high end dealership and they ask me for a luxury price on a
vehicle I really don't need, but maybe really want.  Poor me. They showed me the door quick, and I've spent the
last day thinking about that. Perhaps I am smalltime, broke, and I only need to be looking at used vehicles from
Chevrolet, or worse, GM, at this point.. The 350 has given me an overinflated ego about the process of buying
new and used cars; I think I can afford anything $30,000 and less for a miniscule amount a month.  This
particular dealer told me quick that perhaps this was not the case, and maybe we should look elsewhere. I can
only surmise that this feeling of rejection I have only comes from walking effortlessly and aimlessly up to a
place and leaving immediately with a new Z with a similarly killer payment.  It's funny how invincible that can
make a person, and how funny it is that it can change a person's thought process for the worse.  Long story
short, we are still looking for a car for the X-Rucker and I am still driving the '07 350Z.  I managed to call her
earlier this evening and relate to her some words I felt were some of the more inherently funny word
(tantamount, hahahaha) of the English language.  She laughed, I laughed, and the words are funny even now after
the few nice store bought brews she provided have worn off.  As far as anything else goes, it looks like the
Dallas Cowboys won again this week and solidified their place among the NFC playoff hopefuls.  Also, nothing
new on the Rangers front and to be honest, I don't know how your Mavs are doing early this season with the
amount of late night west coast games they've played this season.  Kevin's birthday is in two days and I expect
there to be an inordinate amount of high school and /or college girls there to celebgrate his 20th birthday this
weekend.  As far as other gossip I have none, so, we'll have to wait until this weekend to see what 'pops' up
and then I'l lay it out for you folks in detail.  Until then, keep the shiny side up.
Tonight I managed to accomplish… this much… Amid the syndicated mini marathon of Family Guy, my
fourth MGD, a wonderfully pleasing small dinner, not to mention two lazy cats, I managed to force myself into
sticking this piece of literary pasta against the wall. Al dente pasta too, you bunch of italian food illerates. First
up, maybe we need to touch on the hyper new job base looming closely on the horizon. If ever I was a lame
duck professional, it is now. I've tried, and though I think I'm doing a good job so far, I do know my days are
numbered and I'm doing my best to remember I have a job to do. Weak, I know, but maybe this is how Cody
felt in his last days at Sewell. Liberating, or maybe even liberated no doubt. Second, my poor forgotten
Thunderbird has been growing on my mind lately like an early Eighties brain tumor. A few dreams in the middle
of the night have reminded how much I miss that pile of underengineered, overrated and underpowered pseudo
family car that has a paint job only die hard Mary Kay saleswomen admire. I did a drive by the other day and
saw it sitting there, forlornly, alone, and the rusty wheels in my head began to turn in a way they haven't in a
long time. Once I came to in the middle of the intersection with a semi honking at me, I drove off in a daze and
made my home where I realized that I have a Mustang that needs my love also. In response to my self created
situation, I enjoyed some Sunday afternoon refreshment in the form of a 12oz bottle. Dema managed to scam an
autograph for mr from the great Jay Novacek of Dallas Cowboys fame. She didn't know who he was, but she
did an excellent job handing him the football in such a way that would have made Aikman pround and then
demanded he sign it with the sharpie she brought. Not only did he sign it, but he kept the sharpie and spread his
silver signature for everyone to enjoy. Dema also took a small trip to NewYork to do… something… I think a
baby shower for a good friend of hers that made a similar trip in order to be at the future Mrs. Blackwell's
wedding. This left me in the odd predicament of returning to bachelor status for about 36 hours. I managed to
do nothing for about 35 and a half of those hours, among them sleeping in and not caring. I did get to wear out
the Ye Olde Bull and Bush and finish off the last of the Guinness keg. I was proud of myself for patiently
waiting longer for my beer than any of the other patrons in the bar. Chris and I spied a new entry into the
library of fine Shiner brews: the Black Label. I could waste my time and yours trying to describe it, but that
would be, you guessed it, a waste of time. Go find some and then try it and enjoy it and report back to me. You
will like it, that can be your Official Mustang-Tbird.com Rants and Gossip Quality Website "Try-it" Guarantee
of Novemeber 2007. Look for Decemeber's Official Mustang-Tbird.com Rants and Gossip Quality Website
"Try-it" Guarantee coming to a Rant soon. The Cowboys beat Filthadelphia in very convincing fashion and in
the process, cleared out dirty Veteran's Stadium toilet flush or whatever you want to call it by the middle of the
3rd Quarter. Suck it, Philly. Maybe mix in some talent, then come back and play in between McNabb's injuires
and the Reid family's future court appearances.  Rangers baseball is nigh upon us. I can't wait for Winter
Meetings this year. Rest assured, you can come here to get all your Rangers slant for 2008 as we make our run
to the 2008 World Series in Arlington, Texas. If you think any less, then you hate Texas, or you simply enjoy
the crotch pleasure of competitive cup stacking on afternoon ESPN programming. In other news, my cell phone
died and was brought back to life, there are movies out I want to see, and my brother is dating and partying at
the Lizard Lounge in such a way only Taylor remembers me doing. This weekend figured to be more of the
same, I'll be around taking notes in order to beat you down again.
Forever ago, almost four years now, I became a service writer at  the shop where I was bred by the controlled
chaos that is hyper customer service and untold degrees of nearly unmanageable stress.  I've written about this,
yes, many times, and (while written well I might add) come to the conclusion that no matter how much I ever
loved my job it certainly was only a stepping stone to either the greatest of successess or just a pitifully
navalent failure.  I must tell my dear readers that I have taken a vast and unreasonable amount of pride in this
job that I have managed to work at longer than I have had any other successful/failed relationship, (save family)
and am happy to report that with a fair amount of positive reinforcement from an unlikely source, I am
embarking upon the next level that my job, no, my career has to offer.  This is a little disconcerting only to me
as it turns out, as I realize that now for the first time, I am in a position where I have to say meaningful things
in a meaningful way in such a way that people remember them.  This may be the scariest thing I've ever done.. I
am attacked at all sides at a time like this from any number of doubts that have lined up outside my door to
taunt me.  What if they say, I'm no good?  What if they say, "Get out of here kid, you've got no future."?  I just
don't think I could take that kind of rejection.  This is something I have always wanted, to be in a posistion
where I can kick my own ass and have it mean a little more than the next customer.  I'll be helping to shape
careers myself now.  I'm supposed to be a fountain of knowledge and answers for others now, instead of a
better price on a paint job on an '87 Cressida.  Assailed by the grim reality that is my bright future, I can only
hope that I am up to the task and am able to continue to kick my own ass with a much larger, on call at all times
workload.  All said and done, promotion successful, proceed to the next level.  It has also occurred to me while
proofreading this flimsy, self serving article that I have cursed twice in this rant.

My how I've grown..
The Archive