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My daughters and I walked to the mailbox with hurried optimism. Sophia, my 6-year-old, ran in front, the mailbox key clinking on the keychain she grasped tightly in her little hand. My 8-year-old, Mia, held my hand and smiled at me while we walked.

"Do you think they'll be there, daddy?" Mia asked.

"I have a good feeling they will be."

"I sure hope so, daddy."

"Me too."

Sophia was already around the corner and running full-throttle for the mailbox, her little fists pumping, her little feet scurrying.

"Sophia is excited too, daddy."

"I can see that."

At the mailbox, Sophia inserted the key and opened the door. Plunging her hand in the mailbox, she pulled out a smallish cardboard box and placed it on the ground. She marveled at it like it was a treasure chest, an ancient lockbox filled with valuable things. Mia knelt next to it, placing her ear on top, closing her eyes as she listened.

"Do you think they know where they are?" Mia asked me.

I read a book recently called Apocalypse 2012: An Optimist Investigates the End of Civilization. The author, Lawrence E. Joseph, digs into the numerous theories and predictions that seem to all point to the year 2012 as the "big year." Something surely is going to happen in 2012, whether it is a catastrophe or an explosion or an intergalactic collision or something. Why the year 2012? Because, for the love of God, all the smarty pants throughout history reference that year in their visions for the end of the world; it's that simple. Is it really THAT simple? Well, no. But is it creepy that 2012 keeps popping up? Hell yes! Queue the iPod. We're going to party like its 1999! I better start stockpiling cases of beer and cartons of cigarettes in my garage.

Check this out. The ancient Mayans were some pretty observant people. By just sitting on a hill and watching the night skies obsessively, they calculated an extremely accurate calendar that has predicted all major intergalactic events. What does 2012 mean to them? The end of the world and a new beginning. What else? The sun has been farting out solar flares more than any time in the last 11,000 years. Solar physicists believe it will peak in (you guessed it) 2012 and microwave our planet. Russian geniuses believe our solar system has entered an interstellar energy cloud that threatens to destabilize our sun. When do they think catastrophe will affect us? Somewhere between 2010 and 2020. Is 2012 in there somewhere? Christianity, the I Ching, and Hindu theology have all been interpreted by someone who believes 2012 is the end of time. The sky is falling! Several physicists believe we're overdue for a major catastrophe like the one that evaporated the dinosaurs. And the supervolcano under Yellowstone National Park is due for a major eruption which could result in the death of ninety percent of the world's population. WTF?! This book was really making an effort to ruin my day. Did somebody say "Miller Time?"

The annual Easter visit to church has come and gone, an occasion that creates a huge uproar then dissipates quickly, like a fart blown away by a gust of wind. This tradition doesn't seem to me to be more relevant to my spiritual self than sitting alone for a few minutes and reflecting / praying in peace. But no matter, I helped pretty-up my daughters and the family drove off to church and we did the required standing-room only visit. I witnessed a couple of teenagers faint, the priest dousing the congregation with a torrential amount of holy water, and small children smashing their boogers on their friends' Easter dresses and sport coats. Hurray for Easter!

My youngest became restless with all of the standing around, so we headed outside so she could play. And while I watched her run around and throw rocks, my family and I noticed a sign at the corner of the building. The sign read, "God Does Not Allow Skateboards Here." Ha! Oh really? 'Hmmm,' I thought. 'Is God really concerned about skateboards on church property? There are surely more important things for God to be concerned about, right?' I immediately came to the conclusion that God would not be worried about a recreational sport, something that will illicit happiness and joy in teenagers, as well as keep them in good shape. What this sign was REALLY trying to say was that some grumpy, old people found skateboards to be annoying. And rather than place a sign that read, "Old People Do Not Want Skateboards Here," they decided to use the fear of God as a deterrent for having fun.

My daughter asked me to be a part of her school's Career Day this year, something I also did when she was in kindergarten. I thoroughly enjoyed doing it then and thought it would be fun to do again. And even though the chiropractors, CPAs, and lawyers of my neighborhood surely make a lot more money than I do, nothing makes a better presentation table than a pile of comic strips and cartoons. The kids love them and I remember that spark in their eyes when they saw that an artistic career is possible for them.

At 7:30am, I met the other parents presenting their careers. We shared a quick laugh and a cup of coffee and then promptly setup our tables before the kids came into the gym. We were asked by the school to bring some kind of handout. And since Easter was around the corner, I decided to print out copies of my comic strip that reveals where Easter eggs REALLY come from.  A lot of my comic strips aren't for kids. They contain adult language and topics. But I do have some that are kid-friendly. And this one had been a hit with the kids the last time I did Career Day. And I knew it would be a hit this year. The chiropractor at the table next to me saw my cartoons, and quickly snapped, "Crap, the kids are gonna pass my table up for yours for sure." Score! One point for the cartoonist.

I decided this year I would spend a day in downtown Austin for South by Southwest (SXSW), something I've never done in the 20 years I've lived in Austin. During past SXSW conferences, I attended single events or avoided the downtown area altogether, being that the downtown grid turns into a huge clusterfuck of auto and foot traffic. But this year, I was going to be "sans kids" on the Saturday of SXSW. And since I work at the Texas Lottery, I can park in the parking lot on 6th and Red River whenever I want. So I parked at 2:00pm, my first beer already in my gut, a pack of smokes in my pocket, and my shades on. Ready, set, rock!

I soaked in the atmosphere on the street, feeling the enthusiasm of the music fans waiting in front of the various venues. I didn't have a wristband or badge but I knew there would be tons of free music at bars and clubs during the day. So I headed to a bar I'd never been in before: The Wave. The bottom of the floor only had about a dozen people perched at the bar. But I could feel the rumble of a band playing on the top floor. So I headed up there, bought a Dos XX, and waded to the front of the venue.