Anyway, what has been really on my mind today is the plight of a woman was perched on the Ship Channel Bridge in Seattle, contemplating suicide. Her misfortune was to do so during rush hour. Apparently, some drivers didn't seem to care about a human life, only that their time was being wasted, so they taunted her, telling her to jump. The cable news networks have picked up on this story, and it was the topic of Talkback Live on CNN today. Apparently, in today's world, it is easy to find someone willing to say things on TV, via satellite, that make them look like total and complete assholes. I watched with outrage as a man said that suicide was another form of natural selection, and depressed people don't deserve to live. I'm sorry, but I'll have to take that issue personally. You see, I'm a person who has suffered severe depression. I've had it since I was a little boy. If not for my loving family, I might not be here now. They have rescued me several times, not from suicide attempts (Thank GOODNESS), but from severe, debilitating depression. Imagine feeling that if you left your house, the whole world would just defeat you anyway, so why bother? I literally had to be moved out of an apartment I lived in because the power got turned off. I had the money to pay it, but I couldn't get out of the house to do it. I barely walked my dog or ate. I'm not a stupid, moody human being. I just don't make enough seratonion in my brain to keep my mood elevated. A combination of drugs and therapy have made me whole again. I'm actually happier and better balanced than I've been since high school. So you can imagine what I was thinking when I heard the "natural selection" comment. I was livid. Then I was indignant. Then I was sad. Indeed, after sorting through my emotions (something that cognitive therapy has taught me to do) I decided that I was mostly sad because there are lots of folks out there who hurt everyday. It is beyond comprehension the sheer number of people who sufer from chronic depression. I'm lucky: my family has the resources to help me get better. Therapy (at 120 bucks an hour, four times a month) isn't cheap, nor are the $150 worth of "head meds" that I take each month. As far as I'm concerned, I can't afford NOT to take them, but what about those less fourtunate than myself? What happens to them? I know what happens, because I've seen it. We've ALL seen the old man who sits on the street, unwashed, looking sad. We've seen the drunks in the bar, the drugged-out prostitute on the street. We've seen these people and we've even laughed at them, but their pain is not funny. It strikes me that us laughing at a drunk is just as bad as the people taunting that poor woman to jump. It's easy to kill a soul that's almost dead. It's much more difficult to smile, and tell someone hello. I'm going to try to make a point to do the more difficult thing now. As the old saying goes: There, but for the grace of God, go I. The woman in Seattle? She jumped. She's one of the few folks that has jumped off of that bridge and lived. She's in bad shape, but the papers say she's going to be fine. The hospital is overwhelmed with the gifts and sentiments that have flowed from the public. I wish her the best.

I love where I live. I live in New Braunfels, Texas, a midsize town of about 50,000 folks, right between San Antonio and Austin. The city is located on and adjacent to I-35, so it's about a thirty-minute drive into San Antonio, and about fourty-five-minute drive into Austin. In addition to that, we are blessed to have attractions of our own here. The city is one of the oldest in Texas, with two rivers that are perfect for tubing or rafting, and we are home to the Travel Channel's #1 rated waterpark, Schlitterbahn. (I KNOW the site is annoying, sorry). I work at a hotel here in town, and so I've become interested in the tourist trade, which is, of course, our biggest industry. Living here is really cool, because the tourists all have to eat and shop, so we have restaurants and stores that most towns this size wouldn’t have. New Braunfels has worked hard to be a place where families could come for fun. Schlitterbahn has seven different water attractions for toddlers, for example, and many young families do indeed travel to see us. As a general rule, the waterpark is where everyone with the kiddos go, and young, single, party folks float the rivers. Many many folks who float the river are drinking constantly during their journey, some of which can take eight to twelve hours. It is not uncommon to see people arrested for public intoxication on the rivers, and the river outfitters are quick to warn that the police are watching. Late this summer, I had a LOT of college kids stay in the hotel. They were pretty well behaved at the hotel, but after floating the river all day, they emerged from their rooms during the evening, sunburned and barely dressed, and asked me where the bars were. Despite living here (off and on) since I was about their age, I was stumped. I simply don’t go out in bars here in town. My reasons for this are many. First, I don’t go out to bars that much, period. I used to, but those days are kinda behind me. Secondly, I don’t have many friends here in town, they are in San Antonio and Austin. And LASTLY when I DO go out, I usually prefer to go to gay bars, since I’m, you know, GAY and all. However, armed with a great nap this afternoon (six hours!) and a morbid curiosity, I decided to see what the local scene had to offer. I was surprised at some of the places we have here in town. My first stop, since I was hungry, was at Applebee's. I know, I know… it’s not local, and I hate chain restaurants, but I had heard that the bar area was quite happening. Indeed, when I arrived, there were lots of folks who seemed to know each other, and there was LOTS of drinking going on. I ate my meal (which I highly suspect was frozen at some point), had a Shiner Bock ($2.75), and got the hell out of there. The crowd: pathetic boozers, mid 40s. The music: Muzak, Soft Rock. Television: didn’t pay attention. But there was a sign on the TV that said “Due to copyright restrictions, we cannot turn the volume up to an audible level. My next stop was a place called The Garden. It was basically a big patio with lots of folks on it. I didn’t stay long, because I felt so… Anglo. The scene at this place was reminiscent of a Hispanic family reunion, complete with Tejano music and little kids running around. I basically walked through, and left. I never DID see the bar, nor did I eat any of the barbeque that they were selling. The crowd: Hispanic family reunion. The music: Tejano. Television: none, but the DJ did have a variety of Radio Shack/Spencer Gifts party lights. My next stop was a place called The Watering Hole. I knew where this place was, but had never ventured inside. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, and the unsettling “saloon” tag made me wary. Indeed, as I was walking in, there was a couple walking out, but I head a distinctively un-western bassline booming, so I went in. I was surprised. This place was packed! You enter into a bar area with tables and a uniformed cop checks your ID and stamps your hand. There was no cover charge, though they appeared to be set up to take them. The décor of The Watering Hole is… can we just say eclectic? There were many odd things hanging about, most of which had nothing to do with anything else. It’s actually rather fun, and it seems to work. The traffic flow was AWFUL, as there were lots of little narrow places that bottleneck the crowd. This bar comes equipped with at least three pool tables, and two electronic dartboards. Moving through the building, I was impressed to find another room with a dancefloor and another bar area. The bartender there sucked, and didn’t pay attention to who had been standing there the longest. I decided I’d find another bartender after he ignored me for over 5 minutes. I wandered through the mostly young crowd, getting eyed by people of both sexes, until I FINALLY found a bartender who was able to reduce himself to giving me a Shiner Bock ($3.00). As I sipped the beer, I wandered BACK to the dancefloor area to get a better look. I noticed that there were LOTS of really bad dancers, but that could be due to the shitty music. It was KISS-FM kinda stuff: Destiny’s Child, Will Smith… R&B and soft rap radio crap. No visible sign of a DJ, though the website claims they have one. There were some OKAY lights, at least they were professional-grade, but there did not appear to be any kind of intelligent lighting. Gay bars have always had the advantage over straight bars in this area. I could imagine myself having an okay time if I were here with friends, and I’ll probably go back, especially when I have friends in town. The crowd: young, somewhat attractive, and drunk as shit. The music: Will Smith. Destiny’s Child. ‘Nuff said. Television: they had LOTS of TVs, all tuned to different channels. Don’t know if they can hook it to the unseen DJ booth and play videos or not. I’m guessing not. Straight bars are SO different than gay ones. My last stop of the evening was a place called Calahan’s Pub. I have been here before, and I kind like it, though it’s very small. It is nice and well-lit in there, and they have 14 different beers on tap, plus over 70 more in bottles. I had (you guessed it) a Shiner Bock ($2.75) and that was about it. The crowd here was the most attractive I’ve seen, and the staff was nice, too. The crowd: young, attractive 20-somethings. The music: Jukebox, but it’s got a good selection, ranging from Alterna-pop to disco to Harry Connick Jr. Television: They were on, didn’t pay attention. There are some other places here in town to go, and I promise I’ll review them later. Until then, you should come to New Braunfels. It’s a great little town, and there’s lots of fun to be had.