It’s Sunday Evening and Dave Has Accomplished Exactly Nothing.

Wow. Sunday night got here super fast. Remember back when Friday evening rolled around and everything weekend seemed so new, so promising. Vistas were wide and endless, anything seemed possible. Seems so long ago. We were younger. The world was greener. Like the lawn I have utterly failed to mow.

Of course, you will notice the lawn just beyond mine is pristine, as always. My neighbor even took the time to paint her tool shed. Why? Don't know. Seemed like a lot of effort. My lawn must drive her up a wall. Actually, I'm pretty sure everything we do on this side of the fence rankles my neighbor. One time our Temple Animal Shelter rescue, Adderall, dug under that fence and romped around her yard. She was very insistent we fix the fence. We did so by shoving a bunch of stuff into the hole under the fence. And from my neighbor I heard, yelled from her yard, "IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO!?" Lady, we've been your neighbor since 2004. Answer your own question.

I, however have wandered from the main thrust of this, which was I have accomplished nothing this weekend. I feel like an unplugged appliance. The dad machine has temporarily powered down. And now this guy wants to go for a walk, which means we leave the house and he runs as fast as he can around the block while I haul my lardy self around, up and down our streets, reaching home way after this guy is already back on the couch with his tablet and his Skylanders and there's nothing more that will make you feel old and out of shape than a jacked up eight year old boy.

Actually, I have spent a lot of this past weekend around much younger people. I did time Saturday at Ticket Gate Three at Temple's Bloomin' Fest. You got your two main, heavy traffic gates and then you had this one, with a lovely view of:

Yeah. On the bright side, my accompanying group of volunteer ticket booth helpers somehow expanded to this group of friends from the local high school. In between all of us trying to keep the tickets from blowing away (we were in a massive wind tunnel, apparently) they all talked about their school, where they were going this summer, some of us tried crawfish for the first time, free samples of funnel cake and bar be que were found, we got yelled at by a perturbed train station employee, one of the girls kept calling me Jack cos she thought I looked like a "Jack", I think a dance routine may have started at one point, and good fun was had by all. "You're funny," said one employee. "I think I'm gonna listen to your station." Alas, time moved on, and the group soon went their separate ways.

However, we'll always have Ticket Gate Three.

Oh, my wife and her best friend hijacked my Facebook page this morning, as I am wont to forget to close it out, and left this status update for all the world to see.

"After deep soul searching, I must finally admit my love for all things ABBA! I proudly sing along to Waterloo and have seen Mama Mia, with the glorious Meryl Streep, 347 times. Their sweet sounds are only matched by my sweet Dancing Queen choreography as I unabashedly move about the house, because the living room cannot contain my joy for ABBA. Now that I have finally embraced the truth, Take a Chance on Me and my ABBA-tastic show for parties, weddings, bar mitzvahs, quincearneras and private events. Calendar will filly quickly, so remember, The Winner Takes It All!!"

I showed them by going to see Mad Max, afterward feeling so wired up and jack-manly and reckless behind the wheel of my war rig (08 Sebring), I nearly sideswiped someone else's war rig (09 Camry) straight off the highway.

So, yeah, I guess I did do something this weekend. And have earned the right to power down. No wait, the wife's out of town and I have to make dinner. That means...dishes. And the cleaning and the feeding and...

Goodbye, weekend. I miss you already.