Outrage! I started a new personal blog only to abandon it for professional pursuits. At least for the last few weeks, that is. Everyone at the new office is working nonstop to be ready for our November 3rd launch, so, you know how it goes.
We are allowed to have weekends, though. Last weekend was one of the bigger ones in Austin, because it was the annual ritual where 90,000 people converge on a lush, green lawn to listen to hundreds of bands play three days worth of live music. A drenching rain on Saturday turned the newly-turfed Zilker Park lawn into a thick, sewage-infused mud sludge, so thick you’d easily lose your shoes to it and be forced to wander the open swamp barefoot. (Note someone’s Crocs casualty, pictured. And let me digress to argue that losing your Crocs is perhaps not a casualty at all.)
Barefoot did me in. Sometime between Raul Malo or Ben Harper and before Michael Franti, something sharp pierced the arch of my foot, then made a three-inch-long lateral cut I didn’t get to see for several hours, because a.)my feet and legs were buried under several layers of mud and b.)I had to stay to see Pearl Jam, because, come on.
One tetanus shot and many bandages later, I’m in pain every time my foot hits the ground. Like the man sings: “Lifetimes are catching up… with me…”