Weekly Briefing from the North Texas Apocalypse Bunker, 8/13/22
Big Country Reporter Edition
All of the bunker administration staff are grateful to be back inside, safely ensconced from the forces arrayed against them in the outside world. This would include, but is not limited to, people who aren’t wearing a mask and keep coughing, loudly and forcibly, in restaurants, the entire population of KIA owners, driving aggressively and with great belligerence at the rest of us on the road, presumably because of their own life decisions, and the large family units of Apocalypse-Dwelling Nomads who insist on walking side-by-side down the aisles of the stores they are in, rather than single file, to hide their numbers, so that no one can maneuver around them without invoking “tsks” and chuffing and muttered threats, however empty, for causing them to break formation with your shopping cart and polite “excuse me.”
There’s a reason why I don’t go out. I’m not good at it anymore. I used to be, back in the early aughts. Maybe as late as 2009. But something about 2010 broke me. I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT. Now I group all of my excursions together, the theory being, if I’m going to disrupt my brain’s own Alpha Waves, I might as well do it all on the same day. In this capacity, I’ve become a master of logistics, able to plan a multi-stop outing with maximum efficiency, all one route, with no double-backs.
This vacation was a lot to take in. Nine states in all, encompassing thousands of miles. I’m compiling a full list of stats, which will be available on the blog very soon. It’s impressive, in that headshaking, Griswoldian-Triggering way.
Dateline: Mineral Wells, Texas
This trip is for medicinal purposes, I assure you. The health spa is not open (more’s the pity), or I would have checked us both in to revive ourselves in the medicinal waters, like they used to do, back in the day.
Summer’s Last Blast is happening in Vernon this weekend. It’s a two-and-a-half day car show, complete with a Saturday night Cruise up and down Wilbarger Street, lasting officially for four hours and unofficially for two-and-a-half days. Do you remember the movie, American Graffiti? Most of it takes place with the cars driving up and down, yelling at one another, occasionally running from one car to another, etc. That’s mostly what it’s like, for two-and-a-half days.
There are a lot of classic muscle cars, which triggers my childhood fascination with Hot Wheels. There are also those vehicles which seem to be made entirely of exhaust pipes, with holes drilled into them, so that whenever the engine is revved, the back of the car farts out this popping, percussive, throbbing sound that reverberates through your dental work and makes you wonder, often out loud, if that’s the sound a micro-penis makes when its being thrummed.
For two-and-a-half days.
In recent years, we’ve simply closed the theater for SLB weekend, because it’s folly to try and do any programming. Regular first run movies? Crickets. American Graffiti screening? Nothing. Grease Singalong? Nada. Elvis movie marathon? Zip. Smoky and the Bandit/Cannonball Run Double feature? Not a damn thing. A handful of people show up, and I mean, five or less, all of them asking me, “Where is everyone?” They’re all at the park, lady, staring at a tricked-out VW Microbus with a Frank Frazetta mural painted on the side.
It's a big deal for Vernon. As you may have guessed, I’m not a “car guy.” Never was, aside from Odd Rods and Weird Wheels bubble gum trading cards and stickers...and let’s face it, I was really a Monster Kid, not a Gear Head. I’ve tried, over the years, to participate and enjoy the event for what it is, but the stress of the movie theater, lights on, fully staffed, air conditioner blasting, and no one in the theater to speak of, made it nearly impossible.
And so, this is the one time out of the year that the theater is closed. It’s the lesser of two evils for my stress levels, but even without that headache, it’s really difficult to get anything else done with all of the Beach Boys blaring out of every radio and the chugga-chugga-chugga of Chevy 350 engines driving by every five minutes. I had some writing to do, and Janice and I have a large project we are launching, and so here we are, in a cute little town with a couple of distractions and a wide-open internet connection, to do just that.
We’ll be back in North Texas on Sunday, as the clean up will be in full swing and everyone’s throbbing headaches will be subsiding. There’s one more thing to do in August, and then I’m chaining Janice’s leg to the floor, and I’m not unlocking her until Christmas Eve.
Ogre’s 11 on Kickstarter Continues
My ZineQuest 4 project, Ogre’s 11, has fully funded and is currently chopping down stretch goals at the knees. Back the Kickstarter here.
I talked to Jeffrey Jones about my ZQ4 project, and we meandered, as we are wont to do, to encompass a number of other topics before bringing it more or less in for something resembling a landing. Jeff hosts fun conversations with folks. You should watch this.
Look for the media report on Monday. The boys in the A/V department will be reviewing the new Sandman series on Netflix. You won’t want to miss it.
I was more of a Matchbox cars kid than Hot Wheels, although Hot Wheels had the better track and playsets.
(see https://seekingthewayout.wordpress.com/2022/08/13/matchbox-vs-hot-wheels/ for a picture of what my favorite looked like)
I had no idea there were any Gibson's left! When i was a kid, going to the Gibson's in Denton was a major treat. It sadly closed many many years ago.
Like you, I've never been into cars at all. With just a few exceptions: Batmobiles, the Black Beauty, and Bond's Astin Martin. I like a car that works well as a weapons platform. The ONLY way to deal with traffic.