Life Outside My Rearview Window: A Decade in Retrospect, 2001

One thing is certain: I was writing more consistently in 2001 than I am now. Thanks for prodding me, ahem, Leigh, to get back to blogging.

Take This Job and Shove It
The dot com boom was becoming a bust and business was not primo for Adjoined. We didn't have any web projects in cue, so me and the rest of the Web Tech division were benched. While it may sound ideal to collect a paycheck for just sitting around doing nothing, it does eventually grow old and I was b.o.r.e.d. Toward the end, I was offered the opportunity to "re-tool" myself, learning ABAP and becoming part of the SAP implementation gang. Sounds dreadful, doesn't it? I thought so, too, and took the opportunity to venture out on my own once again.

Living
After eliminating my daily commute to Addison, I had little reason to stay in Grapevine. Our lease was up; Mary moved to Denton and I made it back to Fort Worth. It was an end to one of the greatest Roommate Dynasties (next to Leanne and Kasey, of course).

Eva helped me find a great apartment in Fairmount, the sometimes scary, but up-and-coming neighborhood just south of downtown. My mom came up from Houston to help me settle into the new place. That was September 10th.

On the morning of the 11th, I woke up to find that my car had been broken into, the dashboard ripped out, and the cd player gone. Welcome to the neighborhood! I went back inside to help my mom unload boxes and flipped on the radio (the tv wasn't hooked up yet) to find that every station was reporting the same breaking news...We tuned in minutes before the second tower was hit. Later that day I remember driving down Rosedale with the windows down (the AC was messed up due to the break-in). At stoplights I could hear the radios of cars around me all tuned in and listening to coverage of the attacks. There was such solemnity and stillness in the air despite all the people out and about. It was surreal.

Traveling
I continued adding photos to my State Border Collection. I made a "Southern Tour" with Jamie and Bonnie that took us through Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana. On a trip with my folks, I also squeezed in California and Arizona. One of these days I'll get those pics organized and online.

The Taylor
For years I had been happily strumming my Takamine, but there came a time when I started to lust for a Greater Guitar. I had a habit of hanging out at Guitar Center, specifically in the High Roller Room where I would play the most expensive guitars I could lay hands on. My fancy finally settled on Taylor, the most beautiful guitar. Ever.

It took me a while to save my bones and, during that time, I made regular trips to Guitar Center just to play it and say, in the words of Wayne Campbell, "It will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine."

The day finally came and Mary went with me to buy the guitar. It must have been a slow night or a bad week of sales, but those guys treated me like a celeb and were all sincerely congratulatory (and, I think, envious) of my purchase. One particular employee asked me if he could hold the guitar (um, sure) and, once he had it in his hands, held his nose up to the sound hole and inhaled deeply. It was a little weird, but I certainly shared his appreciation for craftsmanship.

Have I talked too much about the guitar? I'll move on.

Writing & Music
I continued my trend of writing music in the privacy of my bedroom and occasionally playing it for a select few. I'm not sure why, but I've historically been a little shy of performing in front of people, though I've never minded an impromptu spotlight. (I've clearly gotten over my shyness to some degree.)

I played the guitar at church from time to time. It was nice to play with other musicians, something I'd done very little of in the past. (I only wished I was cool enough to have been in a garage band in middle school...)

2001 was also the year I met Amy. Somehow or another we ended up recording a few of my songs together in Adam's home studio (read: hall closet with a stool and mic stand). The music was pretty amateurish, but it was still a fun process. We joked about starting a band and calling ourselves The Sweet Wesleys. Who knew?