kinky friedman goes down but i thrive on tofu in houston

for all who wonder about my goings-on, i feel tonight that i have arrived.

unfortunately kinky friedman, the sunworn jewish cowboy running for texas governor did not. election day. getting older day. but i've learned already that age and wisdom fail to go hand in hand.

in my hands today-- coffee mug in the left, bleached georgia-pacific stacks sorted by the right-- i sat, back to the window, classifying reports on alternative fuels on the 40th floor conference room of 1100 louisiana ave., the suit-and-tie epicenter of the 4th largest city in the wealthiest country in the world.

my colleagues bought me birthday cards and cookies, mojitos and plaintain chips, and tonight i let my hair down to watch a trio play jazz standards at sambuca's on the main drag for white people. the cabbie asked if i was a messianic jew, and the georgia-pacific sales guys also at the four points sheraton tonight cracked relentless toilet paper jokes and believed me when i told them i just turned 18.

dad's on business in kolkata, kim's working in honduras, i'm filing papers in texas, and the rest of the family is where they ought to be. i got to speak hebrew to an israeli at the hotel bar, and spanish in the car on the way into town. i went on my annual birthday run, wrote my annual birthday poem, and ate cuban-style tofu and banana brulee. my life is still about cutting the most novel escape hatch from the corridor of routine. last year i drank tequila in beersheva, this year a smoother one in houston, next year...i will stop all this worldliness snobbery, i promise. i think it's an addiction with a genetic origin.

so, i hope my absentee ballot arrived on time in delaware county, pennsylvania, enough to count in this country, my country. if not, i cast my vote to the sky above the lone star state, gazing starward, beyond the flag, just as when i look groundward, my eyes seek beneath the bedrock to the aquifer. i am a true, born-and-bred american, always squinting beyond.