Two Years Ago

Two years ago today, I was packing my books in the closet, duct taping windows, tossing some water bottles in my car and making a frantic exit from Houston to try to beat the traffic to Austin.

Suffice it to say, I did not. I did call Ryan Johnson at least nine times from the road, every hour, on the hour, as I sat immobile on Route 290 inching towards Gomorrah Austin City Limits. I wish he had saved those phone logs, as the 3am ones were really some of my finest narrative moments.

There, in Austin, I proceeded to be beat down by 100 degree weather, sleep deprivation, a bungled set-up, festival-goers who would rather see Phish than Spoon, and a Black Sunday quality dust storm.

I returned to the well-documented Houston Hurricane Rita damage.



And I turned out ok.

This is all to say: Humberto, you sissy tropical storm, you don't scare me. Bring it.