I'm just a Guest here

My good friend has invited me to participate, nay collaborate on this blog. And I am honored. Although my reasons and reasoning do not correspond with his, I am no less excited to be here and write.

I often forget in my travels that I am a guest in someone else's town or their local pub. Not in a brutish, loudmouthed, obnoxious sort of way. But there comes a point in every travelers life where local pubs, bars, hangouts (whatever moniker your prefer) begin to feel the same. From Singapore to Halifax to San Diego, "local" establishments feel the same. And that familiarity can breed a certain amount of comfort that often times translates to a brazen lack of respect. We are often loud and overbearing when we share opinions. Not to be rude or pushy mind you. I enjoy conversation with the people I meet. I don't want to annoy them the first time we meet. But the combination of new people who have never heard my unique (and often flawless reasoning) combined with the local libation, creates a vortex of conditions that can be mistaken for rude.

This is most certainly not the case! As I mentioned above, there comes a point where all local bars begin to feel like YOUR local bar. And if I'm in my local bar, I feel well within my right to correct you. This condition should have a name. Something peculiar to people who enjoy traveling as much as they enjoy drinking.

I am a guest here. And I enjoy this feeling. But if I get too comfortable and offend, don't yell.


Malo

Location:S.W. Texas

Profession and the art to prove it

We're all in a time where just about every person you or I know have tattoos. With that amount of people using their skin as an avenue for art, a lack of originality is soon to follow, rather has arrived. Whether it be theme, placement, color, font vs picture or whatever else you can imagine most tattoo havin' folk (I'm certainly no exception) strive for something unique.

This was all just a build up for me to say that I really admire men and women who pride themselves in the culinary arts. Namely the ones who can not only prepare a delicious and beautifully put together gourmet dish, but are riddled with tattoos of rutabagas, spinach leaves, broccoli, beets, steaming pots of delectable treats etc.

I suppose it's not really all that different than a sailor getting sparrows or stars... wait that's not true at all.
Maybe a gear head/ mechanic getting an engine, a wrench, or a can of old tyme oil... hmmm that's taken.
Come to think of it I've never seen a doctor with a stethoscope tattooed on his or her neck. I Haven't met a dolphin trainer with sleeves of sea life specific to the Pacific Ocean. Nor have I met the aquaintance of an astronaut with the milky way galaxy (in mobile form) portrayed in a back piece.

Perhaps there is still hope for originality. Ever met a military diver with the familiar Diver/SEAL phrase "hooyah" on their arm? Few have.

Beam me down

Sitting in a hotel in Corpus Christie, Texas with construction going above my room probably isn't the best situation to re-debut my blogging, but I'm already set in motion.

Lately (in the last year and a half of no blogging) I've seem to have acquired a few traits of which I'm not proud of. One being the lack of keeping up with my friends. I'm gone quite often, and I'd like to say it's more than I'd like, but I am subconsciously thankful for a job that allows me time on the road, even if it is slightly unfavorable places. Suffice it to say it quells something inside me that I was born with, the inability to keep still. With that I have unraveled ties with friends and have used my job as a sort of scapegoat for me being an inefficient friend. There are a select few that have realized this is how I have become, or rather what I like to say, evolved. Call it narcissistic, but I enjoy the fact that I can't stay in one spot and have to keep on keeping on. I'm thankful for those of you who still keep tabs on me and call me friend. I'm very glad that I don't understand people who live in the same town their entire lives and marry their highschool sweetheart. Without getting to off track, as I often do, this my friends is both an apology and a self realization of what I've become. This new blog is a medicine, because for me, writing will always being the equivalent of running a "self-diagnosis."

As The Dude would say, "Certain shit has come to light man."