You never know what you'll say until you say it or do it or dream it or write it or believe it or clean it or bake it or make it or make it real and tomorrow I start by giving up on one of my best friends for 12 weeks, the humble potato. There's nothing wrong with my friend the potato. In fact, there's something too right. Whereas some people crave chocolate, I crave the starchy white deliciousness of the inside of a tuber. So, let's teach it who's boss, shall we. The first step is admitting you have a problem and thankfully Weird Al's "Addicted to Spuds" already covered this. So, goodbye potatoes. And hello, um, whatever people who don't eat potatoes eat. The internet says mashed cauliflower, but I'm not quite buying that one. So, today I eat an apple, bake a cake and have my last potato until September. Oh September. So far away, it seems, but it's right around the corner and soon enough I'll be on my vacation in Austin, not seeing any of the city, not eating any of the food, not visiting any of the sights, but just seeing horror movies and sci fi movies and action movies and art movies and foreign movies and indie movies from an hour after I wake until it's way past when I should sleep and there will be beer and popcorn and lots of other nerds like me jammed into the theaters, jockying to get in to the secret screenings and big premiers and the weird stuff with Japanese directors throwing sushi at the audience and this is the thing I am looking forward to most in this entire year. After that, nothing. The kid's birthday. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Dave's birthday. Christmas. New Years. Valentines. My birthday. Easter. July 4th. All bumps in the road until we get to do it again. See weird movies. Be with our geek tribe. Ask where people are from in the hopes that we'll find the next awesome adventure, even if the shackles of the workaday world require that we only get one 2-week break in the drudgery and I sadly worry about the other vacations we might be missing - beaches, Europe, family and distant friends - but what are they to blood squibs and local amber ale and rubber masks and poor plot devices and all sorts of remarkable things in a strip mall in the high, high heat where every other geek has chosen to touchdown just two weeks after SXSW - just long enough that they've aired out the hipsters and the tribe, our tribe, our only collective, can file in en mass to the Embassy Suites with backpacks and cargo shorts and gather in front of the flickering light that was once a projector and is now Sony 4K and admire and be in awe of and respect and recognize the magic that putting out something personal into the world is an act of love and defiance and we appreciate everyone who brings something forth.