Welcome to Rants 2008, the seventh year of mustang-tbird
foolishness and more.  On this page I will do my best to make
you laugh, insult you, love you, and think back to simpler
times... like two years ago.  I've continued the tradition of
taking guest Rants, and they can always be sent to me here at
steve@mustang-tbird.com.
I am now two months into the exciting new chapter of the saga that is my epic work life.  A promotion is great
thing, folks.  As I contemplate the havoc that an MGD or Shiner could be wreaking on my liver this Tuesday
night in early February, I think back to all the days that I can think of thinking back in the past think, I think.
Otherwords, I'm trying to remember (with a little liquid sentimentality) all the days directly before my so-called
professional career took off. You'd better buckle in for this one folks, this Rant promises to reach back into
dirty hallowed antiquity and dreg up all kinds of irrelevant and ultimately irreverant information that is my
small life. I can remember back to my first job, one that I ultimately took for granted and think back to the need
that prompted it in the first place. Yes, I wrecked my poor Thunderbird, as if it hadn't already suffered enough
at the hands of Ford for being manufactured in the first place. It became necessary for me to employ myself and
I managed to take on the least amount of responsibility at the time that I could while maintaining the pretense
of a working job thing. I was niaeve (spellcheck please?) and operating at about 85%, taking for granted my few
day to day duties and the never really grasping the importance to be learned in the repetition of said day to day
duties. I learned much and perhaps, I was a little too young to realize I was only working that job because the
boss had already succeeded at his and maybe after all, knew what the hell he was talking about. I wish maybe
that I had retained a little bit more of the information, but these days, fortunately I can look back and realize
that even though I didn't hear much back then, I wasn't a total lost cause when you take into account the
success afforded to me by unwittingly sticking to the very simple day to day operations and repetition learned
early as a punk kid with about $14 in his pocket. So to tell you the truth as you read this, I'm not sure about
the message I'm trying to send here… Do your job, and shut the $@& up, stick with a job, and learn somethingâ
€¦ I'm been given a new car by the company also. I think this is a really cool idea, in the way that giving a full
bag of Oreos to a five year old at 10:00 p.m. is a good idea. All my adolescent life has been spent being told that
rental cars a thing of ridicule and are deserving of any dastardly ideas that I may come up with, be it jumping
railroad tracks, at say, 80mph (didn't really happen), extreme doughnuts at a carwash until rubber permeates the
air and makes your mouth water (never happened) and slamming Neon doors so violently that glass may
spontaneously blast from the doors (exaggerated). Now, I'm expected to not only take care of a rental car day to
day, but treat it with respect. This may be the single hardest thing I've ever done, automobile speaking. I even
have to wash it occaisionally, which, sad to say, I've only done once, and that was at a Chevron station that
was hanging on for dear fiscal life, not even a real car wash. So, I'm happier. I have a lot more free time to spend
working and while working, sometime I can work from home and work which leads to work, working work
work. I work a lot now, but it's like a completely new job now, after six years with the same company, in a new
capacity with the same company I have found this to be the refreshing sea breeze I was needing. Enough work,
though. It keeps me from what I really like to do, and that is write to you, dear sweet reader. It seems so long
since we last wrote and three people read. I promise, in 2008, I'll write more, but that isn't a promise to
necessarily wriote anything… good, so beware. Looks like I got my '78 280Z back after 31/2 years of
stammering and waiting and generally nothing happening. With the help of the great Cody Young, a $10 tire that
cost me $20, and the cool eccentricities (ß is that a word?) of one Jon C. Buck Jr, I hauled it back from exile in
dirty Westside Fort Worth and back to a cool comfortable place at Mr. Buck's. After basically forgetting about
the damn thing since'04, I feel as if I have been given a new toy to play with, courtesy of a guy who really
didn't know what he was getting into… me. I sure would like to one day grind some gears and wear out a clutch
in this thing one day for all the trouble I have caused myself with this little car. I am recovering from the flu, so
contrary to what you read earlier, I am in fact not drinking this evening (hence the lament, see?) a fact which
generally lowers the quality of this rant. I hope you find it to be more or less less rambling than say some other
entries you may find plastered on the page, but going back to the Z, I haven't been able to work on it because
I've been sick. It sucked, coughing sucked, being weak sucked, being light headed sucked, the doctor's office visit
sucked, pretty much everything associated with the flu I found sucked.  I did get to spend all of this past
beautiful Saturday in bed and I did not move out of it once. …and tonight, it is 35 degrees outside, just as I'm
feeling better.

Here's my middle finger, Texas. Thanks.
02.05.08
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