Seeing Eye Dogs

.we are willing participants and infractors.
.to the smashing of what has gotten old.

.we take stock every day and see the miracles.
.what is known will be revealed to all.

.with bugs and seeing eye dogs keeping track.
.undisclosed determinations and conclusions.

.drawn from electro shocks and transmitters.
.revolutionaries are quarantined and hidden.

.the citizens are pacified and distracted.
.among them are the young and deceived.

.conformity made easy and respectable.
.capitalism responsibilities and national days.

.with repetitive ease we continue the cycle.
.like soldiers of fortune in a routine war.

.the latest is waiting and already in production.
.remembered having nice things and on the go.

.orderly traditions and traveling memories.
.we'll see what we see at the station house.

.a soaked mess coming in from the rain.
.in love with the hard to love.

Stone Throwers

...the calls come in late, the people wanting entry to the show...walls are useless, unless the times are just right...the stone throwers keep track of lawless, finding fault with all...wireless attitudes, connected by the waves...insanity is saying what is thought, without consideration...plastic hearts, mass produced in warehouses on the coast...soul sounds, muffled and faint...leave the bones to others, dust to dust...surrender the pride, make it known...gratitude is for later, after the fall...peace is for after that, and for always...reality is the real truth, clear as day...

Happy Preachers

.children in line for the border game.
.anything to get into the land of the free.
.ethics aside, the moral questions rise.
.the land of opportunity should seize the opportunity.
.this must be done to the benefit of the future.
.first generation Americans are the best kind.
.love of country comes easy and is abundant.
.rally the churches, host a pot luck.
.these kids need a home.
.as texans, this is our time.
.the test is here.
.something bout money and mouths.
.the scared and the timid whine.
.talk of fairness and justice.
.as the tee times fill up on the weekend.
.and the pool water is treated with care.
.ear bud zombies with techno strides.
.happy preachers talk about measures of success.
.butts in seats, this place is holy.
.teachers of god's word, the old and the new.
.the relationships and validations of the word.
.we have room, we have work, we have opportunity.
.lets invite them all, get in line, we will open more.
.the border will disappear, Texico or not.
.benevolence should be sincere.
.service to others should be indiscriminate.
.we will know in 20 years.
.i have hope, but am not optimistic.
.our history is too clear.
.and it will be repeated.
.inevitability is inevitable.
.and so it is, and will be.

Driver Girl

Driver Girl from paul gorman on Vimeo.

Hooke Street Blues

.kings highway up in st Lou.
.cat told stories bout everyone he knew.
.did her wrong and then she flew.
.left him in the city with the Hooke Street Blues.

.did everything he could to make a buck.
.never had much but always had enough.
.tried for years to regain their trust.
.passed the bottle then passed the cup.

.heard on the radio read it in the news.
.brothers are back and they shined their shoes.
.they seen the days they paid the dues.
.left in the city with the Hooke Street Blues.

.smoking allowed in the basement room.
.funkadelic sounds gonna cure the gloom.
.bark at the dogs and howl to the moon.
.ladies start dancing at half past noon.

A
E
D7
ED7A

Redcoats

Ready for the firecrackers tonight.
Now, the birds are still around.
Celebration of the initial critical actions.
Thoughts and ideas of the past refined.
Allowances made for the southern folks.
Go on your way and fight the redcoats.
Their shiny brass buttons, majestic at high noon.
Hide in the trees, cut them down, bleed them back.
Mercenaries don't fight like the desperate.
These are the woods of younger days.
Booby traps and ambushes.
They talk funny and squeal like baby hogs.
Eventually, the cost will be too much.
As long as we stick together.
The king is a lazy man.
Look on his face when he realizes we're serious.
The weight of the crown.
Empire of global scale.
Let's lay on the beaches of our islands.
The Yankees are dug in.
The people will never love us.
Leave the west to them.
To discover the other ocean.
To climb the mountains and cliffs.
Conquistadors travelled those sands.
The Mayans left to wither away.
Up through the gulf they came.
The Catholics not far behind.
Riverside missions and village squares.
We met in the middle and became wild.
Gunslinging cowboys and Native braves.
Then, from the south, greed arrived.
Remember the Alamo!
Tried to burn us out.
Should've had an afternoon hanging in San Jacinto.
Houston's dumbest mistake.

Days Of Laze

.the woe when temptation meets opportunity. .schemes of the devil. .an outright lie to be told. .in the heart the truth is written. .it is an unnatural thing. .this loyalty. .this commitment and vow. .to be hated and despised. .til death I said. .seems closer than ever now. .and it is. .for everyone. .rational thought has no place here. .the pretending has ended. .days and days of laze. .nights of cold. .self control is for the weak. .the evening lion roars. .door abuse. .tomorrow will be repeated. .the day after. .and the day after that. .abundance or endurance. .one is promised. .one is required. .the clever and witty are mocked. .we are sick of you. .and so am I. .always always always. .cry to the sky. .plead to the air.

Sardines And Bread

The executive director was obsessed with sanitary conditions.
Initiation was informative and delivered with confidence.
All the forms were signed by the leaders.
Time for a game of blackjack.
The Vegas queen played them slots and dice.
Dealer rolled low cards on the bottom of the deck.
Sweet tennis Tanya ain't no old maid.
Tootsie will make your day with a full face smile.
But keep your thoughts to yourself.
This is a money game.
We need a caller.
Next time I'll bring a stack of cash.
No mercy for bettors.
Want the glory without the work.
High expectations and annoyances.
Yank on that hair good.
Tie it up in a knot.
Stack the tower up as high as it will go.
Someone will knock it down.
Pass the time.
The young get older.
I'd have dinner with Jesus if I could.
Ask him about feeding everybody with sardines and bread.
Back to the hill for a hose down.
Style basketball and poor shooters.
Exit on the kings highway.
One way streets and four ways.
Take a right on Hooke.
The remaining member of the stepbrothers.
The double breasted tux was legit.
A few weeks in panama would be nice.
It's on at the chase.
All the big names played there.
Some of those old timers still pick.
You could sit in.
Don't let them tell you what to do.
Grab you by your feet and whip you in front of your girl.
Always smoking cigarettes and drinking booze.
My old lady holds a grudge.
That's the truth.
I made my peace.
Got my feet on both sides of the track.
Check this blade.
Look em in the eye and feel them out.
Just nod and you'll be fine.
We're here to work.
In the name of the One.
Inspired by the advocate.
Led by the Word.
Everybody wants the truth.
But all they tell is lies.
Everyone wants to get to heaven.
But no one wants to die.

Nothing To Lose

D7
CG
D7
CD7G

Hooray for the signs in the sky.
Looking up is the best thing to do.
When we gonna make it right.
Ain't got nothing to prove.

Pull my heart apart and look inside.
Do with it whatever you choose.
This place is full of dirty bribes.
Ain't got nothing to lose.

Don't change the way you are
She got style and popping moves.
Don't wander very far.
Ain't got nothing but truth.

Jumping fast outta the gate.
Running fast and running free.
Still got the future to waste.
Ain't got nothing do.

Ain't got nothing to lose.
Ain't got nothing to lose.
Ain't got nothing to lose.

Pull An Ace

EmAmDEm

We could think and think for days and days.
Count the stars and whistle a fine melody.
Brave the winds and bring nature down.
Slander the ones that preach love in vain.

We could whine with the hounds and babes.
Jump to a jazz jam and sway left to right.
Learn a new step with a twist in the middle.
Plan a car trip on the west coast highway.

We could scatter all the cards and pull an ace.
Rub the belly of a genie til the smoke rises.
Find a nickel tails up and put it in your pocket.
Eat meat every 7th day and call out for mercy.

King James Again

   
     After being forced out of KOtC3 due to a back injury suffered in a 30 game prep mahut, it was tough to attend the event.  Play had already started in the morning rounds when I literally crawled out of my car.  I scooted carefully over the where Keck and the young college player, Dayton, were in the middle of a close mahut that would eventually end 6-4 Keck, propelling him to the afternoon king division and sure destruction.  Originally, he was looking forward to getting in the duke division.  The life of a duke is good.  Days and days of leisure and sport, without all the responsibilities of the king or even the prince.  The duke's life.  No such reality for Keck this tournament.  When Mabe roddicked it was evident.  Beating a college player and representing in the king division are both tremendous achievements.  All the while administering the entire event.  Talking with Dayton later, he was impressed with the format, but was still devastated that he was in the prince division.  Good competitive instincts.  That kerrville college is getting a winner.  Dayton's dominated the prince division and vowed to return next time for the king's crown.  Coach Quest was proud of his protege.

     Got a chance to talk to keck on a changeover and he recapped the sign ins and checkins, and preparations.  He had secured Nick Keany as an alternate to take my place.  Everyone showed, play was going on everywhere.  My back was feeling loose, it was good to get around.  All of my internet research reinforced not to baby the back too much, especially at day 2 of the injury.  This was the first chance for mobility after 2 days of ice, heat, rubs, tubs, muscle relaxers, and pain decreasers.  The day before riding in the car from the docs, every turn was agonizing.  My wife has been a calming influence and has encouraged me to reduce the vulgar language.  Pain can bring out the worst in people.   It doesn't have to, but it does.  Only a few can remain stoic in the midst of severe pain.  Walked over and checked in with Bobby through the fence.  He was playing Russ Fires and eventually battled his way to the prince division.  Russ' elbow was holding up fine, but he mentioned his knee going bad.  Acts 4:22, we all need some healing.  The lower back spasms will pull the spine to the side and the upper back muscles will attempt to compensate, causing further woe.  These spasms move around, like joint mice.

     Joe was in the middle of a heated match with Frank Friday and was hitting a few winners.  His best shots were the ones at frank's feet.  He took control by coming in and putting the pressure on.  After the morning rounds, Frank confirmed his dead legs and, after dropping his Mahut to Leo 4-6, was visibly shaken to find himself in the earl division.  He would go on to win the earl division winning 28 of a possible 30 games.  He is a royal again.  Leo would go on to win the Duke title and becomes the only 3time royal, holding the prince title in kotc1, winning, the earl title in kotc2, and now this.

Between rounds most of the players were exhausted.  Not all.  King James ate chopped up fruit with his hands.  Seeing my misery, he gave me one of his gatorades.  He would go on to win the king division and regain his crown, but it was most impressed with his benevolence.  A king for the common man.  The content man.  The absorber of life, the finder of something else.  His tennis skill and execution destroyed keck, defeated kamran Mir, and humiliated even King the Todd, who is king no more.  Hail king James.  He has regained the throne.  The Todd was respectful at the pub and carried himself with class, but he was searching for answers.  Maybe he still had questions.  About the integrity of his rebuilt shoulder, about the lost court time over the previous 6 months, about his place in the tennis culture.  He remains universally respected and known.  That will never change.  He cannot count on winning his throne back, King James is tough, the field will draw more big name players going forward.  He sat on his throne with dignity.  He was a great ambassador for tennis, and still is.  I could never imagine him a prince, he may never be a royal again.  He will likely walk across the country for some good cause.  He will hitchhike and roam, spreading the truth about tennis in our country.
     The medications don't really help.  The back will heal when it heals.  Mostly, selfish disappointment remain.  The roddick, the betrayal of my body, the wasted prep.  It was not meant to be for me.  I had to live through others.  The 3 games big cat cernosek won for the day, Leo's incredible run, Keck's win over a college player, billy vita stopping in between games of pool, joes co worker dropping by, the mute World Cup, and now we rest.

Spasmodic Poet

No concern or care.
The writings continue.
Despite the contractions.
Spasmodic poet.
Pain will move around.
Ignoring the obvious.
Relationships left to dry.
Spasmodic musician.
Hound those same chords.
Fall into the strumming and melody.
Sing about situations.
Spasmodic man.
Peculiar and conflicted.
Acts 4:22 hope.
The back attacks.
Spasmodic mind.
Alternate thoughts.
Pure and sane.
Questioning and validating always.

King Of The Court 3

     To think King of the Court is only a week away.  Took some time between salt baths and various massage therapies to consider the initial draw this morning.  Right off I noticed the competition committee created a Royal Group, consisting of the Royal Court of KOtC2.  King The Todd has been spotted recently in Hawaii, The Four Seasons Resort in Irving, and the Mellow Mushroom in Downtown McKinney.  If his recent shoulder surgery, or life in general, was bothering him, he sure didn’t show it.  He looks confident.  At all times, regardless of task or perceptions of others.  He lives a different life, above all.  It is an honor to hang with him when given the chance.  He had people following him, but they all kept their distance.  I figured they worked for him.  They bring him beers and complement his attire.  He acknowledges, then waives them away.  He does this all without seeming rude.  It is amazing.  Anyway, he will be tested very early with Prince Frank Friday.  King The Todd better eat a breakfast bar.  Frank Friday was the single most destructive player in the field last year.  If given a chance at the King draw last time, he might have won it.  His consistent and intense game will test King The Todd and his vocal joy and frustration could give him a mental edge.  Odds are against it, but maybe.  Duke Joe Vita, who is sponsoring the trophy’s this time around, has been seen in newly purchased attire, made from modern fabrics that make you cold when it’s hot and make you hot when it’s cold.  His plantar fascia injury is still bothering him a bit, but his rocket forehands will test any opponent.  To round out the morning Royal Group, Earl Leo Escario, the only 2 time member of the Royal Court, will bring his inspired game and American flag bandana.  During our mahut last summer, in 105 heat, I believed I was going to die.  I didn’t, but Leo, a marathon runner, took me down 8-2 to win the Prince title.  He always brings game.

    

     Brent James, former King James, headlines my morning group.  Hell, I think he’s 40 now.  Maybe he starts giving up some points or double faulting.  Any decline in his game would be welcome.  Last summer he mouletted me 10-0 in KOtC1.  Haven’t been kicked like that since Mesquite high school freshman Hernando Ledezma gave me a reality check regarding my college tennis prospects back in 1987.  1-6, 0-6.  I went on to quit tennis for 10 years, emerging to find complicated and nauseating USTA leagues with old guys in short shorts telling you are a 4.5 and can’t play in the 4.0 group even though you figure you’re about as good or bad as everyone else.  The USTA, where tanking, sandbagging, cheating, and elitism thrive.  And you have to pay a fee.  To have this organization leading the tennis effort and infecting the tennis culture in the U.S. has produced predictable results.  No mind weak American player could hang with anyone in the Top 10 right now.  Only Isner has made us proud in the past 10 years.  Of course the Williams sisters are holding up their end, but we have their daddy to thank for that.  The Bolivian player, Sergio Oporto is back, although it’s doubtful he followed through on his promise to purchase a ball machine and really hit the court after the November KOtC.  We’ll see.  The Young Chuck Cernosek is also in my group and out to avenge his loss to Jared Keck, the 5^thgrader that took him down last summer.  As a 4^th grader.  Chuck was disappointed when I told him Jared was not playing, but he looked strong when we practiced the other day.  His was getting all his dinks in with his Prince Magnesium racquet. 

     

     Perhaps the most anticipated participant in KOtC3 is the headliner of the 3^rd morning group, Kamran Mir.  Reports of exotic training techniques and mental preparation are very intriguing.  He is either Afghan or Peruvian, maybe both.  He will not go quietly and is a trendy pick to surprise King The Todd in the afternoon.  He’ll have to take down Bobby Pierson first.  Using strictly demo racquets, Bobby has refined his game through the rigors of the Isner Scoring Method.  He is a bulldog on the court and will not be intimidated by Mir.  Rueben Decoud is a very steady player with fierce eyes.  He will know what to expect in KOtC3 after his experience last November and his game is well suited to the format.  The huge man with the huge serve from the north woods of Michigan is back as well.  Russ Fires tells me he’s ready every time I’ve asked.  He looks serious.  Although he’s struggled with tennis elbow, dropping out of KOtC was never considered. 

    

     Just found out from Keck, the tournament administrator, that Mike Mabe from the Rangers, pulled a Roddick.  No shame, and I’m sure there is a legitimate explanation, but disappointing as well.  Anyone know a 1^st seed type player (a true 5.0)?   He was coming for King The Todd and Brent James specifically and was heard to call them both ‘spares’ and ‘punks’.  Shocking.  Well he did give us ample notice and it is appreciated.  Al Oliver, Charlie Hough, Julio Franco, or Buddy Bell never Roddicked ( http://isnerscoringmethod.blogspot.com/2012/09/anatomy-of-roddick.html ).  Maybe Billy Vita.  Now, mainly a coach, but a potential sub if he’s not on the road in Chicago or Billings or somewhere.   Even if we get BV, this still leaves Jason Keck, tournament administrator, a clear path to the King afternoon draw.  Keck’s perfect forehand and newly enhanced two handed backhand give him an edge as long as he can hold up in the heat.  Last summer in KOtC1 he had to pull out in the afternoon due to cramps.  He followed that up in KOtC2 with the before mentioned destruction at the hands of Frank Friday and dropped a mahut to me, 2-8.  He sees the opportunity for redemption.  He’s been listening to a lot of early Metallica lately.  Mike Zhaung is back and understands the opportunity and format.  Vito Nquyen is a relative unknown and could be out of his element.  His background is shrouded in mystery and word is he learned the game from a secretive society in either Malaysia or Galveston .  I don’t know about all that, but we will all be ready.  Bring water, bring nutrition, bring a can of balls, bring cigarettes if you want.  KOtC3, June 14, 8am, Eagles Landing.  Mahuut!!!!!

*please consider leaving your pre-tournament thoughts in the Player Testimonial section of the KOtC website ... http://kingofcourt.blogspot.com

Group 1

Brent James

Paul Gorman

Sergio Oporto         

Chuck Cernosek

Royals

King The Todd

Prince Frank Friday

Duke Joe Vita

Earl Leo Escario

Group 3

Kamran Mir

Bobby Pierson

Rueben Decoud

Russ Fires

Group 4

Mike Mabe

Jason Keck

Mike Zhuang

Vito Nguyen

Fish Taco

Don't you touch my fish taco!
.glad I asked.
Just leave me alone now.
.alright, alright.

Between Dirt And Dust

The clouds were glowing.  Huge and alive.  High up in the atmosphere the white clouds rose.  The dark ones were only on the edges, the sun reflecting wildly.  Floating on my back I could see the whole sky.  Shades allowed my eyes to probe.  A twisted skeleton, like Richard III.  A massive poodle.  Then a jet streaked through the blue sky and disappeared into a wall of white.  Faces were everywhere, like angels looking down.  Rain is always a threat in Texas when summer wants to heat up and the spring is still dense.  The Gulf of Mexico storms usually exhaust themselves on the other side of Ft. Worth.  The Brazos River provides a natural dividing line between northeast and southwest.  Between fast and slow.  Between dirt and dust.  The whole scene played out in the layered sky.  The cool water was clean. The shrimp and grits were savory again last night.  This morning, that has all changed.  The clouds are low and thin, the sun will burn them off by noon.  Could watch the red clay all day long.  Old players still have a chance.  Slow this thing down.  It was right to save the French.  Our complicated brothers and sisters.  They know revolution and evolution. They understand resistance. They know the underground.  They will never give up their language.  It is too beautiful.  All the flags fly proudly.  Broken windows all around.

Space Folk

.never had a fu man chu.
.upper lip too bare.
.a sunken beard.
.itchy and hot.
.once or twice a week is all.
.it is all you need.
.lotions and tonics are a waste.
.the razors cut smooth enough.
.listen to the space folk music.
.crashing guitars and effects.
.electronic and mellow.
.gravity has disappeared.
.the silent parts stand out.
.like a reverse image.
.aloe vera nights was not a song.
.until it was heard in nantucket.
.lap steel echoes going long.
.heavy metal shocks.
.through the graveyard.
.not thinking about the dead.
.genre creation and barks.
.cookie chefs and beers.
.levee breakdowns and two stepping.

The Word Reminder

Moods, undecided.
It is early.
Songs greet the day.
Those birds can whistle.
Communications and flight.
Setting up for the ladies.
Melodic rhythm and hollow lead.
Getting sounds.
Need some float.
Answered prayers and all.
The book seems complete.
The morning is underway now.
Just before daylight has passed.
Clouds moving fast in the brightness.
Low and glorious.
The colors are forming.
The Word reminder.

Shooting Blades

.the help has arrived. .a break from the wars. .a time for dressing and addressing the wounds. .the action was fierce. .the opppnents were wyly. .throwing stones from the high ridge. .shooting blades from the trees. .took one in the neck. .just a nic. .only bled for a few minutes. .counting my lucky stars. .a toast is raised. .to each other. .exhaustion and chaos will follow. .afternoon will turn to night. .we will move silently. .barefooted and slow. .the ambush will be sudden. .not completely unexpected. .but sudden. .they will wimper and wail. .cursing at the sky. .praying for help. .hooray for the victors. .carry the king around. .stand for the queen.

Blackbirds

.the unmistakable scent of clarity.
.lingering in the air like floating smoke.
.fearless blackbirds and lazy dogs.
.this season of madness and realignment.
.desperate chases and fill ups.
.tighten those belts slim waisters.
.people are people people.
.pigment is a figment of your ignorance.
.not all minds are big.
.they want to write rules.
.define the standard and declare law.
.liberty is only a decision away.
.all empires rise and fall.
.all nations have a beginning and end.
.the unthinkable should be thought out.
.move the winds around.
.this island is lonely.
.it must be endured.
.the days of the future await.

Chosen By Love

...the disappointment was authentic...the defining trait...high standards are the beginning of the doldrums...our weakness is real...so many ignored, or worse, embraced...how could she...the uppers don't lift no more...the downers are endured...back flips off the diving board seems a long time ago...now we fill the days with whines and song...love, wherever it is found, is what cures...if we know ourselves, we know selfishness...unable to love on our own...obsessed with our time...the unchanged, the truth, the light chose us...we were chosen by love...

Wires In My Tires

.elusive balance and holes in my shoes.
.rambling stammering and wires in my tires.
.flutter to the cool jazz sounds.
.stop and make a remark.
.borrow the finer things of life.
.each night could be your last.

Two Toned Ride

Ddemg

Need a pair of contact lenses.
Need a robot to bring me soup.
Need a computer without a virus.
Want to find some new recruits.

It's always money, money, money but look around
What we really need ain't from this town.
 
Need a two toned ride to ride.
Need a business calculator.
Need an automatic coffee grinder.
Want a brand new trailer.

Need a buck for the DVD.
Need an automatic teller.
Need a system to track my miles.
Want to try and make it better.

Need a window with a sleepy view.
Need a photograph maker.
Need another honey to call.
Want to arrive a bit later. 

Need a complex password.
Need an all systems clear.
Need a map to the late show.
Want to make my own beer.

Body Clocks

.muscle memory and body clocks. .rise early and reach. .the ugly glared us down. .we are their enemy. .outside of love. .but love still remains. .patiently waiting. .each day passes. .the anxious and jittery. .time is our reality.

Novocaine

.thank god for novocaine.
.love the way it tricks my brain.
.takes away all the pain.
.thank god for novocaine.

.soldier went down in Gettysburg.
.leg was lost and prayers were heard.
.a shot of whiskey dulled the pain.
.conditions that day were inhumane.

.thank god for novocaine.
.love the way it tricks my brain.
.takes away all the pain.
.thank god for novocaine.

.some days I know I'm dying slow.
.some days I swear I just don't know.
.faith and love is all that remains.
.passed out before going down in flames.

.thank god for novocaine.
.love the way it tricks my brain.
.takes away all the pain.
.thank god for novocaine.


eaeb7e

ab7ab7ae

Black Saturday Night

A time when resources were depleted

After all the heartbreaks been had

A time when the lonely were cheated

Living on the other side of mad

Hop in and strap your belt buckle

Pull your hat down tight

Just another lick my boots hustle

On this black saturday night

.my shadow is taller than my soul

.end of awful days seem close

.all the voices of rage from below

.they chatter, they scream, they know

Awww, they know, they know

Talk about reliability

Our salvation at the end

All afternoon He bleeds and bleeds

Suffering for our sins

Walked around hell staring em down

Really wasn’t much of a fight

No reason for all these frowns

On this black Saturday night  

Texico Days: Macho Burger

     In large measure, commerce was the true reason Texico came to be.  The notion that good ideas, executed in a deliberate and intentional manner, will lead to innovation and prosperity was radical to some, especially the corrupted American establishment.  Soaked in unneeded regulations, choked by corporate taxes, and saddled with expensive entitlement programs, the American economy collapsed in the 20's.  The baby boomer transition from saving money to withdrawing money tanked the banks and investment companies.  Texicans were resourceful.  Never did they expect the government to provide for their retirement.  Retirement, in fact, was not something many texicans pursued.  Instead, aging texicans kicked it in as they headed towards the grave.  Business ventures, missional efforts, and other interests became more important later in life.  Rebirth, renewal, and reinvention.  Always.  No other phenomenon illustrated this spirit as clearly as Macho Burger.  This prevalent feature of the towns and cities of Texico began as a simple vision.  The best burger for less.  Opened prior to the beginning of Texico in the great Collin county suburbs north of Dallas, this restaurant has become a conglomeration of 2500 units spread all through Texico.  Created by entrepreneur Mason J. Step, L. Dean Fitzgerald was an early investor and wrote the signature jingle in the early days...

Walking, I found myself hungry and in the Allen area. While I was looking around for something to eat, I bumped into a guy standing on the corner of Bethany and Greenville. I asked him, “Hey man, you know where I can get a good burger?” “You want a good burger, huh?” he answered. “Yeah”, I said. He asked if ever had a Macho Burger. “A Macho Burger?” I inquired. “Yes, a Macho Burger.” “Nope”, I answered. He then pointed across the street to a small colorful hut with smoke coming out of the top and said, “Go on over there and order you a Macho Burger. You’ll be glad you did”. Intrigued at this point I pressed for more information. “What makes a Macho Burger so good?” I asked “What makes a Macho Burger so good? First off, they give you a huge hunk of meat. Secondly, they keep the bread dry”, he answered quickly. He thought for a few more moments and added, “another thing, after you eat a Macho Burger, you know you ate a good burger.” he went on, “you know you got your money’s worth and you can come back and get the same thing next time you want a good burger.” Then he challenged me, “Why don’t you go try for yourself?” With that I thanked him, jaywalked across the street, and ordered a Macho Burger. After carefully unwrapping the burger and seeing it in its full uneaten glory I could understand what he meant by a huge hunk of meat and the integrity of the bread was intact. I couldn’t wait to take a bite and when I did I tasted the best burger I ever had. A Macho Burger. I’ll tell you this, it won’t be the last. Get you a Macho Burger today. You'll be glad you did.


Creative marketing, good burgers, and relentless sanitary execution earned Macho Burger it's place among iconic Texican brands.  The development of the now famous chihuahua burger and the marketing of it, first as a slider appetizer, then as a children's burger, was an example of this continuous nature of texican innovation.  Mr. Stec developed the menu personally and makes adjustments obsessively.  The original Macho burger (meat, sharp cheddar cheese, thinly sliced onions, zesty dill pickle slices, raw bell peppers, and black olives served on a very toasted bun, best with real mayonnaise) was the only burger on the menu for a couple of years before the need for diversity led to a more versatile menu.

White Pants

.she stepped out last week.
.cold shoulder turns and silence.
.the joy of life can be had.
.but it must be sought.
.you will find it within.
.it has already found you.
.white pants and stone necklaces.
.warm towels and perfect eyebrows.
.until the slumber ends.
.until the change of the season.
.endurance and work.
.routines and habits.
.particular projects of beginnings and ends.
.selling margaritas in the stands now
.just want a smoke.
.nervous mutes and sidewinders.
.get up there closer.
.the yu choo rendition of the rangers.
.no bleacher seats anymore.
.the world has been fooled.
.not entertainment.
.larceny.
.glow world park.
.a sucker's den.

No Generations

.disorientation of the order of things.
.take nothing for granted.
.all rotations are their own.
.this will not last.
.time will end.
.our time.
.anxiety and regrets rolled in the mud.
.schedules and agendas obsolete.
.no generations.
.no eras.
.decades, centuries, millennia.
.pushing work and cash around now.
.pride digestion and moments of joy.
.relationships initiated and maintained.
.plans of goals and actions.
.read respond, read respond.
.give your heart away.
.it is too blue for your own use.
.look through the eyes of others.
.understand them.
.the season came to an end last night.
.the hawks had a good run.
.the loud voice having fun.
.his stage is gone.

Evolution Girls

.refinement.
.and the other side of hate.
.part of the soul now.
.authenticity.
.shapes of all kinds.
.colors too.
.the tender hearts.
.the cold ones.
.turn away turn away.
.look to the stars.
.on a clear night.
.away from noise.
.only music and nature.
.evolution girls.
.resting in love.
.home girls.
.resting in love.
.teach your children well.
.they are being kept from trouble.
.avoid the pit.
.and the falls.
.mind games forever.
.until the age of maturity.
.until the age of reason.

Shark Fin Sky

.orange, orange shark fin sky.
.all the colors plunging into the clouds.
.remembered some sort of promise.
.still and completely clear.

Intended

.the metal got extremely hot. .it must to become what it must. .intended and planned. .considered the expense of time. .it was worth every hour. .as we count them down carefully.

Where The Leprechauns Howl

   
     He walked in and the 7 foot guy stared him down.  Started and listened in amazement.  Who was this skinny white boy with Unc?  Smothered his shoulder with his hand after the performance.  "You turned me around son, I didn't know what to think," he boomed.
     "I learned from the three Kings--Albert, Freddie, and Elvis.  Martin Luther And Martin Luther King. Jr and Sr too."  He talked with knowing confidence.  The place smelled of chicken necks and the guitar players coated their fingers with chicken grease.  This was in the backwoods.  The hills of Tennessee.  Where the Cashes come from.  Self sufficient and musical people.  This is not Nashville.  These people made Nashville.  Players all around.  That Gibson box was tuned in.  Learned to play every note.  Studied the theory of music and heard sounds.  Not a follow me man.  "You say you play better than Jimmy Hendrix.  Really?  Let's hear it."  He was older now.  This was years later.  "Now Jimmy wrote the book.  There is no doubt.  Had to go and off himself.  Intentional or not, He was reckless.  Can't be drinking too much prior to a performance.  Can't be sloppy.  We move forward, we don't look back."
     Buzzards was a lake bar.  Near pottsboro and pink.  These texoma boys flash cash around.  Floating the waters while the red river dies.  Beach camping bums and stripper fillets.  Green waters and hundred pound catfish.  Cold and windy on granpappy point.  The Munson place near the cliff.  They never heard a big sound.  They never heard the doctor on the keys.  Three piece county bands with honky tonk covers and straw hats.  It was buzzards.  Big red loved the guitar.  I'm playing one for him.  And the strings were pulled off.  Bended and mangled and shredded.  Burns run come down.  Sleep the next day.
     Playing the glow gig set and this gentlemen walks up to the stage.  He calmly straps on the electric guitar and begins to ensure proper tuning.  I have just completed the opening song, swaying California brown, and the place is full of anticipation.  The opener is a ripper and my sideman was playing nice long slide licks.  The bar was ringing noises of commerce.  I'll have another, make it two or three.  Once he's satisfied with the sound of the telecaster, he proceeds to play the introduction to the second track, north end of Erwin park, the most local of all glowface songs and my favorite to sing.  He seems to know it and the minor chord laced solos and improvisational sounds we're filling the entire room with melted wax.  Incredible, I thought as I signaled the slide for some butter knife whines.  The protest of the protest song went on for an hour.  The gentleman would not stop.  I was pouring sweat and exhausted.  We had played the entire album, finishing with a remarkable rendition of Rankin Blues.  He made up notes, he tore off the paint, he made the chandeliers cry.  All songs were played without pause.  It was like one long song.  The place smelled of mushrooms and beer.  The man finally unstrapped the worn out guitar and placed it back on it's lonely stand. He walked through the stunned crowd, out the back door, and down the ally. We stood there amazed, not knowing what had happened.  The slide player was hypnotized.  The crowed was silent as he left, but glowing brightly.
     He came from the end of the road.  Near the washed out bridge.  Where the leprechauns howl.

Snorehorns

They are all famous.
Everone else.
Including you.
Chased and loved and humbled.
Like a burden.
Truly a burden.
Absolutely a weight.
Certainly tiresome.
Rest in this.
Knowing your sleep is your own.
Announced by snorehorns.
The only peaceful sounds. 

High End Boxes

...drop and give me 120...
......only so many hours in a day......
...cheer up and take a break...
......find an acoustical room......
...the moderately priced ones were upstairs...
......a trippy 12 string......
...these high end boxes sound nice...
......and the room was clear......
...a cross was attached to the wall...
......the runners were warming up......
...they were all heroes...
......love life renegades......
...outlaws of adriatica...

Greener Grasses

.the mornings are short.the restless always wanna be somewhere else.that broadcaster was right.he told of the greener grasses on the other side of the fence.he warned of the days prior.the ruin and the rot.he lived it too.the liars, the thieves, the killers.we know them all.and we are of this sorry world.we bathe in the mud.the first step of humility.but the mud is also good for the dark spots under your eyes.the crying stained skin.it will rejuvenate.old people just seemed like they were always old.never did we imagine glory.but we are closer than ever.our restlessness turns into anticipation.run to the light.the shackles will break.the fence will be opened and we will fall down in the lush and moist green green grass.turner's falls are worn down.chickasaw lands are untouched.only long gravel roads.brush fires in the distance.those casino lights were blinding.parking lot was full.new york, rome, paris, london.always wanna be somewhere else.spur, galveston, brazos river, austin.always wanna be somewhere else.vail, destin, estes park, new orleans.

Bad Days

.in the middle of some bad days.
.karma no longer matters.
.the cold accumulates.
.covering the entire land.
.revolutions and uprisings.
.the loud louder than ever.
.they will talk of billions and trillions.
.millions no longer matter.
.it will be stars in the eyes.
.the younger folks are gonna leave.
.the path of least resistance.
.the women are gonna run to the hills.
.to hear birds and watch suns.
.profits are high and lines are low.
.the computers must go on lock down.
.reboot in the night.
.shut the propellers off.
.drink a warm drink.
.investments of time and money.
.willing participants.
.shadowy figures of love.

    

Sunscreen And Sombreros

.we stayed there for hours.going somewhere else seemed like madness.we had it all.provisions and ice.waterproof boxes and airtight bags.music and frisbees.sunscreen and sombreros.days afloat.chunk the tequila in the river.it is the devil's liquid.visions and fever.cold sweats.fell out of a jeep onto the beach road pavement.blood gushed from a head gash.left to live more years.

Flashlight Eyes

.secret hallways all around.doors that open by themselves.there is so much light.it is blinding and relentless.but it is a cool light.pouring some needed element into our bodies.we are mere reflectors.it is not our own.the source is never seen.flashlight eyes.

Old Dallas Avenues

.she really captured the wrinkles of experience. .and he painted those portraits on cardboard. .route 66 never gets old. .all the thoughts in our minds. .they were very colorful. .the modern version of on the road. .glowmachines and shades. .old dallas avenues and one way streets. .the west end is vacant. .echoes at the Plaza of the Americas.

Cave Walls

.go on and pick a fight.
.wasting your time.
.cowards and talkers.
.citizens are concerned.
.aint nobody crossing the border.
.unless some dan guy lets them.
.if he can get your vote.
.the us mail is a relic.
.mailboxes should die too.
.the printing press served it's purpose.
.like cave walls, tree leaves, and scrolls.
.transferring knowledge is over.
.what we do with it all.
.is the inquiry.

.one day, all the information and images in the world will be accessible by everyone.  even the poor people!  the best search engine ever created will be attached to our thoughts through brainwave reading devices.  thoughts will automatically trigger the search.  the depravity of man finally transparent.  and woman.  our selfishness unavoidable and encouraged.  our questions immediately answered.  our desires immediately satisfied.  the preoccupation will leave the world quiet.  music will make no sound.  talking will become obsolete.  trees will thrive.  holograms will represent us in other places.  suffering will continue.  despite our plead for perfection.

                  
 

Digital Wasteland

.go. and the heart glitters. .stop. and the glow fades. .climb. and the rocks fall. .camp. and the buzzards gather. .share. and the harvest returns. .store. and the rot comes. .build. and great cities rise. .destroy. and great cities rise anyway. .fight. and the innocent are lost. .love. and the greatest is love. .scribe. and the mapping of the mind. .erase. and the digital wasteland.

Dusty Rug

...these waters are shallow.  hyped up on uppers and coffee beans.  rocking back and forth, knees dancing wildly.  next, next, next.  out with you.  in with the new.  like a dusty rug.  first to the garage, then to the yard sale, then to the goodwill store.  unless it needs to go to the landfill, the best and sanest method of waste control.  honey earth, completely efficient and sufficient.  she pays us no mind.  modern evolution and the avoidance of humanity.  the vast deep sea waters are vastly undiscovered except by radar, sonar, and submarine cars.  the floating debris and bottle caps.  sunken treasures and sunken junk.  the air has been conquered already, though it takes it's body count.  never want to have to count on a parachute.  don't want to have to count on tony romo either.  a proven fine fellow, a proven skilled quarterback, a proven leader.  but also proven at other things.  and we will stop there...

                      

Nerve Line

.my mental state will not tolerate sticking around.
.areas of emotion are clouded and humid.
.beads of sweat gather on the inside of my skull.
.blackouts on the nerve line.

Clay Court Wars

.buttons and wires going everywhere. .machines made of machines. .compact in its outer shell. .made of poly thermal plastic. .over in the Siberian tundra lands. .rusted factories and people with huge teeth. .silicon micro chips and dips. .party is on in the lobby. .glowing girls smelling of lotion. .oily massage and light jazz. .silent horns and clean lead. .epic Italian screenplay. .mobsters and south philly promises. .letters to the famous and noteworthy. .signed with ferrari pens. .sealed with clay court wars. .the trees are naked and lit. .north end clearing and ridge road. .prune out the dead limbs. .make it work for blooms. .jalapeño peppers on the side please. .clean up the sides with a lime.

The Devil's Trade

.started with a huge gasp of air.
.made their way to the cannonballs.
.kept blasting the opposite banks.
.all through the afternoon and night.
.the white flags came out eventually.
.the texicans rise again. 
.hysterical commitment cannot be overcome.
.a burden beyond belief.
.carried it up the road.
.on the outskirts of town.
.even had help along the way.
.it could not be done alone.
.agony and moments of boredom.
.branded with scars of war.
.brought to the alter with shame.
.complete mysteries never to be explained.
.something about that wine.
.transferred by digestive means.
.blame it on rio.
.beautiful beautiful things.
.its all been done before.
.for the same exact reasons.
.the devil's trade.

    

Dried Tears

     The map is covered in green.  It's always the same in the city.  Perhaps we should all fall down and have a fit.  It is not just!  Cars and trucks and cars and trucks.  Whooshing by.  Spinning and spinning.  Here, we are royalty.  Kings and queens and aces and jacks.  But I go for the tens.  Among the commoners by design and choice.  The pressures of the circumstance and pomp avoided.  On to other matters.  To write and consider.  In that order.  Work the edges.  The day's fury, today's distraction, yesterday's dried tears.

Molecule Of Air

.like a drop to the sea.
.like a molecule of air.
.our thoughts too.
.not all can be captured.
.or should be.
.some better left hidden.
.or forgotten.
.memories are limited for a reason.

.like a crick in the neck.
.like a stone in a shoe.
.tugs and tugs.
.demanding attention and causing grief.
.the immediacy.
.it must be, must be, done.
.resisting is impossible.
.unless by design.

.like the belt of orion.
.like the west texas lands.
.assurance in staticness.
.although changing still.
.the trick of time continues.
.everything changes.
.evolution is for the alive.
.decay is for the dead. 

Bostonville Sound

.telecaster, stratocaster, resonator slide.decide on all 3.

.prince swept up his floor.back in the day.

.picking the melodies out.finding the good lines.

.there are no names to describe.where the fishermen eat.

.avatar possibilities.all the locals know.

.room echoed and talked.all the skins were amplified.

.the producer rolled tape quick.fix it all later.

.in came the sound scientist.broke those vocals down.

.the guitars, the guitars, all the guitars.american made.

.caught that bostonville sound.wrapped it up in one day.

.far away eyes and western noise.the choir comes in.

Ludicrats

.the audience is tired and panting.
.the ludicrats are whining.
.their club is behind the times.
.colonial times were for the brave.
.demanding the law.
.electric blue and flashing.
.announcing the new age.
.venus was shining like a spotlight.
.gonna go march.
.you look up with a confused face.
.said you got a good deal.
.peace ain't gonna come.
.forgot to let the dog out.
.where the lily pads swim.
.all the searching for the gold.
.the fast and loose ain't around anymore.
.known a few girls.
.they are all done now
.each one it's own.

Tangles And Instructions

connections of wires
tangles and instructions
pictures scattered everywhere

indications of liars
blames and interruptions
slouching in chairs

nations of buyers
awards and inductions
completely beyond repair

collections of deniers
tickets and infractions
forgiveness seems rare

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