Thanks to Elizabeth, or whatever your name is

My post on the Katie scandal was linked in a bit by Dan Goldberg on the Columbia Journalism Review Daily web site. My joke as quoted doesn't make a whole lot of sense in the context in which it's printed, but I'm not complaining*.

(I was referring to the statue's attributes and Goldberg had already made a boob joke earlier in the piece. Explaining my bit would've just dragged it down.)

Anyway. Cool. Thanks to the link, my daily visitor count rocketed into the stratosphere of the mid-20s.

Someday, I'll get 30. (Clinching fists, looking at ceiling.) Someday.

*ON FURTHER REVIEW, it still makes sense as a joke, Goldberg just used my quotes to make his own joke. I've spent too much time on this ... that is all.

Camping

Recently went. Here's a picture*.

Can you tell I've been tired lately?

*Thanks to johnzzzzz... dkaly ;l6y89KDY0'PSttt

A large truth ...

Leadership positions are usually filled by people too dumb or too crazy to realize no one else wants the job.

Good freaky stuff from the Associated Press:

Press club award inquiry expanding
A scandal ensnaring one of the Southwest's top journalism awards may extend back two more years than previously thought, officials with The Press Club of Dallas said Monday.

The entries for the 2006 Katie Awards apparently never went before judges, and the competitions from 2004 and 2005 are also under investigation, club President Tom Stewart said.

Stewart said he believes that the competitions might have been rigged by the club's former leader, who has won 10 Katies in the past four years and has a criminal history of passing bad checks and a personal history of erratic behavior. Former press club president Elizabeth Albanese was fired Saturday...

After repeatedly being asked about her background last week, Albanese acknowledged that she had been arrested in Texas and Virginia on charges of passing bad checks. The Associated Press has found records confirming those arrests, as well as additional arrests for fraud, theft and forgery in Maryland.

Those records indicate Albanese's name is Lisa J. Albanese and that she is 41. In an interview last week, she had said her name was Elizabeth M. Albanese, and that she is 37.

Several board members of The Press Club of Dallas said Albanese was also known for making outlandish and sometimes conflicting claims.

She has told people that she entered the University of Texas as a 16-year-old and was a cheerleader there. After the allegations became public, press club members compared notes and discovered that Albanese also told some people she had been a widow, others that she survived several types of cancer.

Just to add some background to those that don't know. The Katies are pretty much the biggest journalism awards available in Texas and the surrounding states. You win a couple of those, you've got a pretty good shot of actually moving up to a position that doesn't pay joke wages.

They were also very popular because the awards used to be in the shape of a naked, well-endowed lady. They eventually uglied her up to make it less offensive.

Tho, now with this scandal thing, I want one even less.

Feeling numb

It's a huge sign of vanity to take a national tragedy and obsess over how it makes you feel, so I'll keep this short.

Me and my wife didn't talk about Virginia Tech until about a day had passed. This is partly due to us being away from the news for most of the day it happened.

Since I've found out about it, the only thing I've really paid any attention to is just who this whacked-out jackass was. Maybe because it's good to remind myself who to look out for, maybe it's just morbid fascination.

(First question: How does a guy with two pistols take out 30 people? That just doesn't make sense.)

I did listen to the memorial service, mainly out of a feeling of obligation.

My main reaction so far has just been numbness. Maybe it's because of the "Columbine: Part II" reaction people are having. Maybe it's seeing numbers like "60" and "50" coming out of Iraq or that it's hard for anything to have a huge emotional impact after 9/11.

Maybe it's the way that pundits on both sides started pontificating on this about two seconds after the first story came through.

The biggest frustration is seeing this happen and knowing there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I suppose I could do the usual "write your congressman" type stuff that has more to do with making me feel better than having any real affect.

But it doesn't really matter. I wish I could do more. I can't. I'll pray for the victims and hope their families can do some good in the memory of those who died.

And wish there's something else that I could do before moving on. But I doubt it.

Good shots

First thoughts:

• Must have been a bad day for Coleman. He forgot to shave.
  It's 80s down to the footwear: Ostrich boots for Hasselhoff and velcro laces for Gary.


• I wonder if the smiles and thumbs up have to do with Dana Plato being passed out in the back seat.


• Did Kitt* have a back seat?


• I don't see how David Hasselhoff's toothpick legs were able to support the head and hair. A man with that build makes "Flounder" from Animal House look like a more credible action star. He must be slouching because standing straight up would have snapped his spine in two.


• The dude in the back is wearing a pancho.


• The dude wearing the pancho and the desert missionary set makes me think that this was a crossover between Diff'rnt Strokes, Night Rider and the A-Team. While being perhaps the greatest crossover ever, I doubt that the 80s TV infrastructure could have handled such a core density of awesome.

Thanks to John, who passed on this piece of evidence to me. He seems to have noticed a recent obsession with the 80s here.

*Correction: It's Kitt, not Kip. Kitt apparently stood for Knight Industries Two Thousand. I hope this makes you happy.

To hell* with the Olympics

From The Chicago Tribune:

"WASHINGTON -- It seemed surprising when Mayor Richard Daley, who once dismissed bidding for the Olympics as a con game, announced a year ago he was forming a committee to explore the idea of having Chicago bid for the Olympics. It seemed improbable for a city that had almost no involvement with Olympic sports for nearly a half-century suddenly to want the Games themselves.

"Daley convinced the one man he needed that the city was dedicated to the effort, and the result Saturday was Chicago's selection over two-time Olympic host Los Angeles as the U.S. candidate for the 2016 Summer Games."

I gotta say I agreed with the mayor the first time.

There's been no reason since Atlanta '96 for any American city to want the Olympics. The games are a huge political freaking mess. And by God, if you don't figure out a way to feed the Tibetans right and you don't bus 150 separate countries to the shuffleboard arena on time, YOU'RE DAMN WELL GOING TO HEAR ABOUT IT FOR THE NEXT FOUR YEARS, YOU IGNORANT, STUPID JERK.

After which time it'll be another poor sap country's turn to take up the baton (HA!) in the race to be sniveled at.

Olympics may or may not be moneymakers. They definitely are the ego baby of the usual rich civic-minded people who otherwise got bored with helping out the unfortunate.

Also -- I no longer care.

At one point I watched the games because I really wanted to see the Russians go down. And I didn't much like the Albanians. The only country I get excited about taking out now is China, which I understand is really good in diving.

"Greg Louganis jumps off the platform! Do you believe in miracles? Ker-splash."

*Remember Stryper? Remember when you discovered they didn't mean it? I haven't. Please don't tell me.

Movies

My favorite movie critic is Stephen Hunter of the Washington Post, and my first thought when I saw the info for "Pathfinder" -- about a white boy raised by the Indians, who then goes out and protects his brown people from other white boys -- was "I hope Stephen Hunter reviews this."

Booyah --
Stephen Hunter's review for "Pathfinder."

"The record shows that Native Americans were extremely adaptable warriors, who quickly solved tactical problems offered by technologically expert foes. Ask the 7th Cavalry; they know that tale all too well."

I've written about this before. White anthropologists in the 60s and 70s tended to view Indians as peaceful, non-thinking folk who followed the exact same peaceful paths for every generation. Therefore, the only people capable of saving them from change were white anthropologists casting themselves in the role of hero. That this kind of thinking is pretty much academically dead doesn't mean people can't make a movie.

Then, as a bonus, Hunter also reviewed the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie and enjoyed it. Good days.

Yes, I'm still using "Booyah." Leave me alone.

Workee Work! Busy Bee!

Sorry that I haven't had much in the last few days, but I've dedicated myself to writing a book review on a book that isn't bad but isn't easy to get through either. I'll try to get back, but I think I already missed the boat on the Anna Nicole thing. The large, impossibly bouyant and shapely dead boat.

Contact update

Folks, feel free to check out my profile. I've updated my e-mail and have installed Instant Messenger on the machine.

Congrats, Pa

Just a public note of congratulations to an old buddy of mine, Dave Thomas, who has a blog at the Austin American-Statesman.

Dave, who seems to be in the running for "scariest paternal expression", just had a baby boy.

Friday Night Lights confluency

I hadn’t watched Friday Night Lights in three weeks. Too many other distractions. Hell, I’m even getting my football jones on by playing the 2003 version of EA Sports College Football.


And I’m watching with some trepidation here. Every TV-based article I’ve read lately has mentioned the show’s on the bubble for another year, and I don’t want to get too involved with something that’s not going to be around for much longer.

I don’t really feel like I have much to add to the conversation here: virtually everyone who has watched TV knows what it’s like now. The good shows get yanked after one year before they have a chance to build an audience. Meanwhile, The Bachelor is still on the freaking air.

My wife has gotten into watching the Jeff Goldblum detective show, which she says has no chance of lasting another season. The plotlines on Friday Night Lights have been wrapping up lately, so I suspect the writers know something.

I’ll let it go with dignity. I don’t want to be one of the "Firefly" fans, endlessly coming up with some other rumor that the show really really is coming back, and with the same cast, even though they killed half of them in the movie.

Anyway, some notes from my recent Friday Night Lights viewing:

The 20th episode was ridiculous. Insane.

First off, the plot revolves around the fact that the high school has set up a home game for state semi-final playoff. Wha? t?

Football playoff games are played at neutral sites. Usually. State semi-final games aren’t played at home. Ever.

Then the coach decides to make a point by renting a cow pasture and turning it into a football field, "so it can just be about football."

Oh, Reeally? For people who don’t follow football, I’ll just say that this has no precedent in any kind of reality. It’s like – hell, I can’t think of anything. It just doesn’t make sense. I have to change my conception of reality just to fit in the fact that some writer out there thinks this is a good idea.

When the episode was over, I could only figure that either no one on this show has ever watched a football game in their lives, or that they've been to Texas and are now trying to piss us off.

I then immediately watched the next episode. Pretty good.

One more thing ...

• I could have sworn for a second that a skyline in one background shot looked like Lubbock. Then I noticed trees, hills and grass. Can't be it.
• A college on the show is obviously UT, but, for some reason they can't call it that. Instead, they call it "TMU." (Texas Mechanical? Texas Magical?) Meanwhile, when the poorly educated white trash girl starts thinking that she may be able to just barely get into a college, that college is named as "Texas Tech." Gee, thanks.
  

Run Ricky run

From the Associated Press:

Ricky Williams applies for reinstatement
NEW YORK (AP) _ Ricky Williams, the former NFL star who played in Canada
last season after being suspended for a year for substance abuse, has applied
for reinstatement.
Williams' agent, Leigh Steinberg, said the running back, who will turn 30
in May, had sent a letter asking that he be allowed to return to the Miami
Dolphins.

I was going to be your running back ...
but then I got high.
I was working on my comeback ...
but then I got high.
Now I'm uh asking for re-instatement and stuff ...
and I know why ...
(yeah, yeah)
Because I got high,
Because I got high,
Because I got high.
Da da dah da da dah ...

Journal Entry: The Chicken Fried Steak Attempt (No. 15)

Wednesday, April 4, 2007: I’m still going through the latest operation with a certain amount of doubt. The meat was fine, the gravy was the best I’ve ever created, but the texture of the crust was a soggy failure. No crispness. At all. A chicken fry from the swamp monster served on a humid day.

Any number of reasons could explain this – wrong temperature, meat too greasy, God hates me – but I feel like I’m stumbling in the dark here. I think next time I’ll try less grease and more flour.

Some funnies

Must be spring. Alanis Morisette's takeoff of My Humps* was all the rage at work today. Maybe it's all left over gags from April Fools. Maybe everyone's like a Texas Ranger fan right now, and ready for a decent joke.


Here's one from John (Scroll slowly):

CROWDS PANIC AS FLOOD THREATENS IRELAND
We've all seen the faces of those ravaged by the floods of Sri Lanka and New Orleans. This "award-winning" photograph of the recent floodwaters rising in Ireland captures the horror and suffering there. Keep these people in your thoughts.

If it was Texas, they'd be smoking a brisket.



This next link from Jeremy is good, only I post it with a small amount of empathy: Without the interruption of marriage and Hico life, this dude is me. Only maybe I'd dress up like the guy in Halo. (Warning: Plenty of cursing and X-rated jokes.)

* I didn't really find it funny. I have a hard time associating the words "Alanis Morissette" and "funny." I also don't think Fergie is that good-looking in the first place, meaning that the joke is about one unattractive granola chick making fun of an average-looking woman's slutty rap song. And in her own songs, the unattractive granola chick can't go eight beats without talking about what she's done with her private parts. And that's been enough material for about 22 albums so far.

Celebrities I have known

Working for any newspaper, you have the chance to meet famous people, usually as they run through on the dinner circuit or a book tour or whatever.

Don't know why this was on my mind today, but I was trying to mentally put together a list of the celebrities I've had a chance to talk to. It's far from impressive -- I never covered entertainment and otherwise didn't seek these assignments out. I've also deleted the marginally famous through my own forgetfulness. But here's what I got:

Julia Child: Yep, the first celebrity I ever interviewed. She was old, tall and energetic. She remains one of my favorites because she was very personable and friendly, while making no bones about the fact that she was sick to death of the book tour business. She was in a Coppell store for the release of her last cookbook. She stopped signing autographs when I asked her if she got bored doing it. She looked at me, and -- sounding just like Julia Child -- said, "Yes, it does become somewhat tiring to you ..." and then went on a five-minute spiel about how she'd rather be doing something else. Her aide chased me out of the store.

Mary Lou Retton: Remember her for two things -- Mary Lou's cuteness, and the other reporters being idiots. She was speaking for some kind of help the sick child thing, and the organizers had set up a session with the media beforehand. I never have been impressed with the looks of olympic-level female gymnasts. The overdeveloped muscles and the stunted development of everything else makes them look like the toughest Oompah-Loompahs on the block. But she came in and was quite the tiny little hottie. She also displayed a great deal of patience. One cameraman picked up his cell phone and starting bitching out somebody for making him cover "this stupid fu-- event," midway during the interview. Another guy was so enamored with Mary Lou that his questions made everyone else cringe. It was straight off the old SNL Chris Farley Show. "Do you remember all those medals you won in 1984? How many did you win? Was that awesome?" And on and on and on ...

Barbara Bush (The elder): Never got to talk to her, but have been forced to cover three dinners where she's been the featured speaker. The routine is that the reporters at the event are given extremely stern warnings to not approach Barbs. They are usually seated in the back corner of the room, and then have to attempt to come up with a story while the Former First Lady goes through her schtick -- 15 minutes of making fun of her husband, five minutes of blathering universal platitudes about whatever charity that's hired her to speak.

Gov. Rick Perry: Doesn't like reporters.

Tom Landry: He was at the dedication for "Tom Landry Elementary*" in Irving. (Or Valley Ranch. It doesn't matter.) This is about as close to hero worship I've ever got. I don't remember what I asked, I don't remember what he answered. Mainly I just remember the look on his face: The ceremony had included an elementary-age show choir dancing to some P.C. nightmare of a school song about how we all love each other even though we're different. Five different school administrators thanked about 187 people that "Really followed Tom Landry's example." And, me interviewing him. I could not get any coherent questions to come out of my mouth. His expression -- Tom Landry stood there, smiling, obviously thinking this was all rather foolish, but, being Tom Landry, never saying so.

* "King of the Hill" later came out with Tom Landry Middle School and also made several references to "Cow Bingo", another thing I wrote about. To this day I believe Mike Judge was reading my stuff. I don't have a lot of things to believe in, so don't spoil it for me.

Back on

Sorry, but I was out because of malfunctioning modem for a day. I realize that no one probably noticed, as I skip days, weeks, all the time. I fixed the problem by turning the modem off. Then turning it back on.

Me and jibi will get right back to posting music videos that anybody with two seconds on their hands can find. I'm afraid that they've run out of The Outfield, tho.

I, cook

When I was at Central Market slinging pizzas, my supervisor was from New York. Not a pleasant dude. He spent most days threatening to quit, complaining about his co-workers, leaving work early and incompentently flirting with the female staff members.

But, he could make a damn good pizza. In a mix of Obi-Wan Kenobe and George Costanza, he imparted a certain amount of this wisdom to me.

A thought hit me when I was working in the kitchen. I saw people cutting stuff. Then they'd add spices, then they'd heat it. "Damn," the thought said, "This crap's easy."

So, I've gotten more and more into cooking as the months have gone by. Coffee cake. Beef stroganoff. More breads. I'm working my way up to a chicken fried steak.

It's good for stress. And, my wife, while being an excellent cook, doesn't like to touch meat so much. So it's not like I had a lot of options.

"Stop eating meat?"

Like I said, I didn't have a lot options.

Monday

It's raining. I hear the noise the rain makes. Also the noise when it hits something, thereby making it wet.
Sometimes it thunders, making a sound. Then the dog barks. He adds to the sounds that I hear.
I know what I need for this funk:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ho7JLDS2zY (In this one, The Outfield wins the girl by stalking her with a music video. (Or do they???))
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmaRPPztdGo (Here, the Outfield shows their emotional sincerity by sweating and changing the basic laws of astrophysics.)
Jeremy noted that I committed a sacrilege by leaving these out of my original Outfield post, but I wanted to save the heavy hitters for later.

The Dark Side of the bad thing

Just a note afore the weekend.

The MSN home site currently has up with its news offerings a story about the current situation in housing finance. (Next to the usual celebrities dress ugly, celebrities cheat, celebrities accrue municipal bond interest stories.)

The headline reads, "The Dark Side of the Mortgage Crisis."

I gotta say, no one has yet covered the bright side of the mortgage crisis. Think of it. Evil men in bad suits smiling as they kick the huddled masses yearning to breathe free out of their overpriced one-bedroom starter homes. Laughing in glee at the death of another American dream. Tell me their story instead of bringing me down, Microsoft Network.

The joker's always smiling

Jeremy sent me this link on unintentionally funny comics. Worth the look.

Of interest in Abilene

Just got a note that the Abilene Reporter-news is offering buyouts to the older people in the newsroom.
Tough times in me old stomping grounds. Also in San Angelo and Wichita Falls, apparently.

I can't believe, the things that happen to me ...

You don't want to click on any of these links. It's a view into animal so complex and disturbing, blah, blah, blah.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8re7PD5tOA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpDkmWHIAQU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgfSzuFD8rw

Some random thoughts after watching this:

• 80s fashion really has held up well.
• Why can't support musicians today smile like they are prancing about misty mountain meadows? It's music, have fun!
• The basic concept of a music video for a guys band: Show attractive lady walking around city with blank look on her face, occasionally switch back to picture of band playing. Some things never change.
• They were English? If Asia turns out to be English, I'm going to shoot myself.
• Has anyone else listened to The Edge (Dallas station) lately? It's 24 hours of suck.
• I always wondered what happened to the Outfield, and then I saw this video from 1989. Oh.

Sorry about the non-inbeds, couldn't get the thing to work. Maybe later.

I didn't start the fire. And I won't be putting it out.

Wow. I must congratulate myself on that title. It's Billy Joel.

The word came through today that I will not be part of the Fort Worth Fire Department. While I still think I could do the job, it's confirmation of what I expected.

A lot of you probably knew about this, either filling out a survey or being contacted as one of my former bosses. That part, as well as the rest of the background check, went really well. Things went wrong in the board interview, the final step of the process.

I showed up thinking I had an honest chance, but it soon became apparent they thought that:

• I was too inexperienced.
• I was too old.
• I was too obsessed with '80s group "The Outfield."

The application process was a lot of work, and it was a job I'd have loved. On the other hand, I'd have felt like slime for taking the job I currently have and then dropping it immediately.

Thanks to everyone who helped out. It was great that a lot of folks out there filled out surveys. Here's my favorite answer, from Todd:

*Please list any hobbies or activities in which the applicant participates.

He plays role playing games heavily. He's got a ring with +18 dexterity and his own +3 damage Axe, so he can tear down some flaming walls if he needs to. Here's a link to a video that shows him shooting lightening-bolts in a live action role playing game with his nerd buddies; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ufaBKdY60w . He also keeps a blog (newsfromhico.blogspot.com) where he shares his deepest and darkest secrets. He’s a little overzealous when it comes to Harry Potter, so DO NOT slander Harry Potter in this man’s presence. His left foot is 2 sizes larger than his right. He has irritable bowel syndrome in one of his ears. He’s infected others with Creutzveld-Jacobs-syndrome though he’s never contracted it himself. He keeps a gimp.

Missing the milk pirate's boat

I haven’t been connected to much of anything since I made the move Hico.
It's weird. Since coming back, and thanks to the fact that most of the people I now work with speak English, I keep hearing references to things that have been in the public mind for some time, but which were flying high over my balding head.
I used to take pride that I could miss entire pop cultural movements. Still.
Here's a smattering of some of the stuff I'm just catching up on:

• The “Bananas for my hands” video. Not really funny, but strange enough to stick in people’s heads. Apparently there’s a whole movement here. I’ve heard people repeating the phrase “Circle is square, square is circle.” And I’ve seen references to the Milk Pirate. Starkly unoriginal, but it is catchy.
• The fact that the most current non-cursing nickname for male genitalia is “Junk.”
• The “Dick in a Box” video on Saturday Night Live. Fairly self-explanatory. Spawned the …
• “Box in a Box” video. Which, besides being anatomically questionable, isn’t really that funny. The video on YouTube shows a girl whose only talent is to have her cleavage photographed in black and white. Turns out she lip-synched, as she explained while she was on Keith Olberman, who I hate.

All I want to do is see "300".

Sigh.

Another fearless prediction:

The now Eagle-less North Texas has made the NCAAs for the first time since before I went there, a long, long time ago.

So, how will they do? The Championship -- they won't win it.

P.S. I'm not spending any money on brackets this year. I'm hoping it'll provide weight when I have to argue to plop down $120 for fantasy football.

Notes:

Spent the weekend in Hico.

As I was driving up to the gate, I found it open. My face fell.

Arriving at a place where you were happily expecting to be alone -- with just yourself, your dogs, and the heavy, unbearable guilt that clouds every aspect of your life -- and then finding you have company is like having an ex pop by when you're drinking with buddies. (Let me tell you ... Eh, like hell I will).

Anyway, my sister and her family have been taking their spring break at the farm. They like to come down there and go crazy with projects -- killing cactus, cutting brush, picking up garbage.

My "projects" consist of taking the dogs swimming and burning stuff while intoxicated. I have no right to complain.

A reader asks:

So no predictions on how far Tech will make it in the big dance?

Unnnhhhh...

Tech has been so unpredictable this year, it's kinda tough to make any kind of reasonable guess, but I'll go ahead and give my thought process.

The Raiders of Red can either:

1. Play like they did during the high points of the year and make it into the sweet 16, or
2. Perform so badly that Bob Knight benches the entire team and plays himself -- using a zone defense that relies primarily on elbows and thrown chairs.

What will it be? This -- Tech goes out in the second round. Getting past the first round is enough to make me happy with this team.

Movies I watch so you don't have to: "A Scanner Darkly."
I expected: A science-fiction romp that played with my notions of reality.

I got: A meditation on drug addiction that pushed my limitations of muttered dialogue.

And another thing:
I don't get a lot of responses, and I feel a special kind of joy that makes my dog wag his tail out of empathy when I do.

Just do me one favor: Not that you have to, but consider coming up with some kind of handle that you can sign in with. I now have three people commenting: "Annonymous", "Annonymous Coward", and "Dave T." I'm happy that "Coward" came up with something to differentiate himself. Really, the rest of you can join in. It's not like you'd be leaving your actual name.

And even if you did, it's not like you have any chance of being discovered. The only people who see this site are the same eight people who have been here all along ... And, oh yeah, four dudes from China.

I don't know what that's about.

Welker leaves

So I work in a sports department, and don't notice this about my favorite football player for three days:

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. - The New England Patriots acquired wide receiver Wes Welker from the Miami Dolphins on Monday in exchange for undisclosed draft selection compensation. -- Patriots.com

Reaction: Miffed, I can no longer call the Dolphins my favorite team.
Second reaction: The Dolphins really are kind of a joke of a franchise, and Welker has a legitimate shot with the Patriots to win something. Hooray.
Third reaction: Where can I get me some undisclosed draft selection compensation?

Prediction:

The mullet will return within 18 months.

And the house across the street will be ground zero.

Aggies at Microsoft

Just read this on CNN:

REDMOND, Washington (Reuters) -- Lost in Seattle with nothing but a camera
phone? Just snap a picture of a nearby building, send off the photo to a database and soon you'll get back a map and information about where you are. ...
The map-search technology required Microsoft to get millions of street-level pictures of Seattle's buildings and landmarks. Those pictures were added to a database and indexed by distinguishing features that can be cross referenced to pictures sent in by users.

Uhhmm ... wouldn't a GPS thing in the phone work just as well? And not require millions of pictures to be taken?

Dumb women in the news

I got my fill of the whole Anna Nicole thing about a week ago. I'll occasionally see something on Britney that I'll laugh at, but, really, I have no plans to make myself an expert.

And, I'm willing to go out on a limb here and make this statement: The vast majority of women out there are not pop culture whores who would crawl over their dying mother to get the best angle for the pretty, pretty lights of the paparazzi flashing on the other side. I'm also relatively sure that most men agree with me.

At least one woman(Lynn Elber), who gets to comment on CNN, thinks that women should worry about their falling status:

The antics of wayward stars can make a sensible woman want a gender choice
other than "Female" to check on forms. For mothers of young girls, the
exaggerated value of celebrities and their wild-child escapades are a worrisome
trend.

She goes on to quote Bill Maher, who says that Hillary will not be elected until the day pop chicks decide the random naked crotch shot is a bad idea.

My first thought here was, does anyone take offense to someone making huge blanket statements that cover 50 percent of the world's population?

Secondly, does anyone out there apply the lessons they learned watching the "Anna Nicole" reality show to their own relationships. ("Hmmm... my wife just went on shopping spree, she must be whacked out on drugs and sleeping with five different men.")

It's always been fun to glance at the tabloids. Most people don't buy them.

But really, the reason this thing stuck in my mind is because of the assumption of the piece -- never spoken: If you're speaking of women and how "society" will react to them, what you're really talking about is non-women.

So: Men are control-freak maniacs who will use the foibles of Lindsey Lohan to bring you down.

Not buying it. I've seen plenty of men treat women like dirt, sure, and I've seen most blowing it off, sometimes just getting out of the situation to succeed somewhere else. I've also seen a lot of women tossing men around like a kid with a balloon. The majority of bosses in my life have been women. Some good, some bad.

And I don't have an overall point here, save maybe that, to look at the Anna Nicole affair and immediately think, "All women are taking a hit here," shows a strange focus in life.

An explanation

Anonymous Coward said...

"There sure are a lot of posts here for someone that is bailing on the blogging biz."

Which is true. At the beginning of February, I basically said, "I'm giving up." And have since not actually stopped posting.

The reason, if you'll allow a little emotional indulgence:

At the beginning of the month, I wasn't in a good mood. Money was short, I was going back into a career I didn't want to go back into, and ideas for posting here were in short supply. So I made the whiny little post that the posting was done for at least a month.

But ...

I got a little Hico time, the job is OK, and I like the people I'm working with.

My main worry was that posting here would be like my other freelance writing attempts when I've been at other newspapers -- once I got off work, I'd want life to be as illiterate as possible.

I'm still coming up with things to put down here. So I am.

My Grandpa told me:

"No Segrist man should ever make a cri de coeur without getting hisself some Hico time."

And then he'd tell me about his World War I adventures with Spanish prostitutes.

I loved my Grandpa.

Life imitates the first dirty movie I ever saw

A couple of hotties are robbing banks.

Ah, memories. It was 1978. The Harrisons next door had this new thing called "Cable". I thought it was useful primarily because it had Tom and Jerry cartoons on in the afternoon. Then the parents were away one night, and every underage boy in the neighborhood was introduced to HBO after hours.

Really, I kind of wax sentimental about it. There was glamor about the way nakedness was presented at that time. I feel sorry for the modern 8-year-old cruising the net and finding stuff that made me curl up in disgust at age 32. (Which means I don't do that stuff anymore, thanks.)

If recall the movie correctly, I hope the modern-day hottie bandits use dynamite and and have a blue-grass tape in the car for when they elude the hillbilly cops.

Cotton Bowl moving to bowl that is not cotton

I could make the case for having confused feelings about this (economic realities vs. tradition, etc.), but I don't: The people who run Dallas are a bunch of freaking morons.

To shrug off one of the great traditions your city has because you don't want to pony up anything more than a financial band-aid every five years is classic stupid.

People wanted to play at the Cotton Bowl. At Fair Park. It was that simple. A lot of people blow off Dallas as a part of Texas, but the Fair Park buildings and the Cotton Bowl are a huge part of how the state defines itself. You could have at least put up a serious fight to make sure the games played there will be above the high school level.

Now, we have another game at Jerry's House. It's a nice place, to be sure, but it's at Jerry's House. Yeech.

Geek confusion

I don't know what to make of this:

//Next `Star Trek' Heads to Theaters// (Hollywood)
HOLLYWOOD -- The long-rumored new “Star Trek” movie will begin filming this fall, Paramount confirmed Tuesday, under the direction of J.J. Abrams (“Mission: Impossible III,” “Lost,” “Alias”).
The script, which the Hollywood Reporter said over the weekend was about Capt. Kirk and Mr. Spock's meeting at Starfleet Academy and their first mission together, was written by Alex Kurtzman & Roberto Orci, who also did the “Mission” screenplay.

My first thought is that the "Batman Begins" movie easily bested the Batman movies, which started out lamely indulgent and went downscale to lame and stupid. Batman Begins though, was a pretty good show.

But it's also a comparison that doesn't work too well, because I can't think of a Star Trek movie that I really hated. Eh, Five wasn't that good, and you could tell Picard and the crew were getting bored in the last one, but it was still decent fun -- probably because you had the same people playing the same characters.

They've all built up good will. I could deal with an overweight O'Hura. Everyone in the cast hates Shatner, but he's built up enough good will with the public to pretty much do whatever the hell he wants to with his life.

So, we now have a movie that won't star Shatner and Nimoy. It's hard to imagine anyone playing Kirk without it being a parody.

Meanwhile, I also thought all the "Mission: Impossible" movies sucked.

But, what the hell, if it shoots this fall it'll probably come out next summer, so by then I'll be needing some Trek goodness.

Sick at home

I have a strange job. I never went into sports journalism. Being the son of a coach, I have too much sympathy for athletes and I could never sum up the interest to care too much about the numbers and people and inside gossip that journalists have thrive on.

So, now I'm an asst. sports editor. The section is almost completely local, so not knowing too much about the national sports scene isn't that big of deal.

Still, because the conversation around the office revolves around people proving they know more than those dillholes on "Sports Center", I find myself going through the Star-Telegram's sports section much more carefully then when all I wanted to do was find info on Texas Tech.

Not much else to say here, it's just annoying. It's also a pretty major shift in brain resources, which is why I haven't been posting much lately.

Notes:

• Couldn't make it to work today, and I'll leave the sick details as to why undescribed.
• Spent the day re-acquainting myself with the way that the vast majority of daytime television has become primarily a kind of daycare for all the white trash jackals out there. The people who patrol our land much like the mob in ancient Rome. God forbid we lose Jerry Springer.
• Wrapped up the TV watching with an episode of frontline that examined the state of newspapers in the country. Basic diagnosis: Bad. But everyone out there knows that.
• I work at a newspaper that doesn't have a press in its building, just a couple of very large, empty rooms. That always freaks me out. It's like I'm in a car and can't hear the engine. The rest of the building is maybe 50 percent full. And we're considered to be in good shape.
• "300." This is perhaps the next movie I'm willing to lay down money and leave the house to go see. Hope it doesn't lead to a massive disappointment.

Thanks to the Academy

Just wanted to say that the last movie I remember seeing was "Deck the Halls," a stinking pile of excrement festooned with holly and ivy.

And I'd still rather watch that five times in a row than five minutes of the Oscars.

I realize that Oscar hatred is nothing new, but, it being that time of year and all ...

Welcome back to journalism

Scene: A smallish newspaper office, populated with a variety of newspaper types. The phone rings at an empty sports editor’s desk.

Me: Sports, can I help you?

Fan: Is this the sports editor?

Me: He’s not at his desk. I’m [redacted, redacted]. I can try to help you.

Fan: OK. Well, I’m a local high school baseball fan, giggle, and I have a question. I don’t really want to come off here as being too aggressive.

Me: I’ll try to answer or find someone who can.

Fan: You ran a person’s picture two days in a row, and ... there’s 12 other people on the team and I was wondering how that happened. I don’t want to be aggressive. Giggle.

Later check, pictures in question include a mug shot that is about 1 ½ square inches in space, followed by a game shot of a tag out at base, otherwise known by photographers as the "quick and easy, I got three other games to shoot."

Me: Really? Well, our photographers usually shoot what’s available, they might have someone they’re trying to get, they might shoot something else, there’s not a whole lot ...

Fan: How does someone have their kid photographed? Is their some kind of agreement here?

Me: If you’ll let me answer the question ...

Fan: Giggle.

Me: Our photographers work with us but generally come up with their own shots.

Fan: I just want to know how this works. Do agents provide some kind of incentive for you to promote certain players?

Me: (Blink).

Me: Giggle. Uhm. It’s kind of aggressive of you to be asking if we take bribes.

Fan: I’m not being aggressive. I’m asking you professionally.

Me: You’re asking me professionally if we take bribes?

Fan: You’re the one who’s being aggressive! I just want to know how this works. You know how radio stations pick the music they play? Record company agents pay them to promote their works.

Me: But we don’t play Britney Spears. (No, didn’t actually say that, just wish I did.)

Fan: So I was wondering if parents of certain players had hired agents.

Me: Why would they come to us?

Fan: To get their kids all the attention of colleges and pro scouts.

Me: Sir, I don’t think that a kid getting his picture in the paper has any bearing ...

Fan: I’m just wanting to know how this works. You’re being very aggres ...

Me: Scouts have a lot of ways of ...

Fan: Because these coaches can be ...

Me (louder): OK. The question you’re asking here is "Do we take money to put certain players in the paper?"

Fan: Yes.

Me: The answer is no.

Fan: (Pause.)

Fan: OK. Now what is your name?

Name is spelled out. Bold, all-caps, underlined and italicized.

Fan: OK, thanks, I justwantedtoknowhowthisworks (click).

I'm not one to welcome warmer weather

As winter in Texas is my favorite season of the year. Still, I pulled out the sandals today, and they felt good. They don't even have that leather and foot-odor stench. Yet.

Beautiful

Take a cannon that shoots beer cans, add a slow motion camera, and you have a couple of the most beautiful videos ever seen, even if it is a beer commercial. I'm shaking, I'm so touched.
http://michaelscomments.wordpress.com/2007/02/16/the-male-psyche-at-its-best/

Heretical viewing

I noticed a while back that blogger Rex recently was recognized on another, more well-known blog, as pointing out a "heresy" episode in the original "Star Trek" series. Sort, of. I get lost in this stuff.

Anyway, the post made me think about some of the episodes from some of my favorite series that would be rated as heresies. Here's what I could remember:

• Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 8: "Al is plum wore out." Swearingen dreams himself onto the cast of "Gilligan's Island."
• Battlestar Gallactica: Season 2, Episode 5: "Difference." Otherwise known by fans as the "Freakin' Light Sabres!" episode.
• Star Trek -- Enterprise: Season 3, Episode 7: "Future stuff." Enterprise moves forward in time, beams aboard the "Voyager" and beats the living crap out of the crew for making everyone sick of the franchise. Capt. Janeway's stern invitation to "talk things out" over tea is rejected via photon torpedo. Not launched, just thrown really hard by Bakula.
• Friday Night Lights: Season 1, Episode 6: "Don't we have a taco stand?" The West Texas town of Dillon grows huge trees on one block, then switches to desert about two neighborhoods over. Parts of the Austin skyline occasionally appear and then leave. And for some reason never explained, all Latinos have moved away.
• The Simpsons: Season 10-Present: "No longer funny." Or relevant. Bad idea to make Lisa the main character. Bad idea.

Hmmm ... And that's really all that I can think of. I need to start watching Lost.

The cold road

So this is parked in front of my house this morning:

The City of Fort Worth has this unusual notion of repaving streets:

1. Grind ashphalt surface.
2. Cover with fine dirt that will stick to cars like moon dust on the lunar rover.
3. Wait two days.
4. Pack dirt with big roller.
5. Wait one week. Tell people asking about the process that you have no intention of working if anyone spots a cloud anywhere closer than Marfa.
6. Repeat steps 2, 3, 4, and 5.

Voila, you eventually have a resurfaced road. I think. I really can't be sure what they're doing out there. Hell, they could be building a block-long swimming pool for all I know. Which would be sweet.

Behold my baking skills and tremble ...

http://sports.espn.go.com/ncb/recap?gameId=270440245

From now on, I'm making pie any time the Raiders of Red need a big win.

Call me Pie Maker

Today I made my first apple pie:

That's right, suckas. Homemade crust and filling from scratch. Don't bring that ready-made pie crust in here! This ain't the Baptist Ice Cream Social and I'm not your 13-year-old sweetheart. Bring your scratch skills or don't come at all.

Some pie-making tips:

• You don't have to mess with flour and cloth, just roll your crust between sheets of wax paper.


• Pie savers are great to stop excess browning.


• I'm disappointed with the luck of the Tech basketball team. They've had some honest chances in every game they've lost recently, but some bonehead disaster always comes up. I can't hope for a miracle run in the Big 12 tourney, but at least maybe we'll get a decent showing in the NIT. As far as next year, we got a far better football recruiting class than people are giving us credit for.

Ely turns 60

And since I’ve been thinking about music, there’s a story today in the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal about Lubbock musician Joe Ely turning 60.

Written by Bill Kerns, who is good but wordy, and he’s in rare form. I take the note at the top that this is the first of two stories as a warning.

I’m pointing the article out just to say that Ely was the first non-mainstream musician I ever listened to. I have four of his CDs, starting with Letters to Laredo. I didn’t know that he went to my high school. I also never rode a motorcycle down the halls. (One of several nifty stories in the piece.)

Update: Here's the link. Sorry.

http://lubbockonline.com/stories/020907/ent_020907044.shtml

The fightin' young'uns of Nazareth

ESPN has a story on the town of Nazareth and its girls basketball team. (link at the bottom, it's not functioning right today, for some reason)

Nazareth is one of those tiny places out in the middle of nowhere West Texas. I point out the story for two reasons: 1) It's a damn fine story, and 2) It's a story that anyone who has ever worked at a West Texas newspaper has written or edited. Town living in tough times, people trying to hold on, facing slim odds. This piece at least has nice ray of hope with the focus on the team. I also think the writer overemphasizes the dire situation. But when someone out East comes to the panhandle, it's a little hard for them to not overemphasize the dire situation.

Hat tip, once again, to Jeremy.

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=nazareth

Actually, a poster of Selena's backside would be fine ...

Jeremy sent out a list with this scenario:

If stuck on a desert island, what 10 songs would you take with you --
ignoring the fact the scenario is stupid. Just a friendly distraction. This is
in no order at all…Jeremy’s list and I know I'll be kicking myself for
forgetting so many...

“Loving County”/Charlie Robison
“You Shook Me All Night Long”/AC-DC
“In My Life”/The Beatles
“Amarillo By Morning”/George Strait
“Maggie May”/Rod Stewart
“Night Shift”/The Commodores
“Sexual Healing”/Marvin Gaye
“Wanted Dead Or Alive”/Bon Jovi
“Two Dozen Roses”/Shenandoah
“Your Love”/The Outfield

Bonus: "Won't Get Fooled Again"/The Who

I don't have the willpower to narrow things down to 10. Too hard. But I was happy to tell him what he was missing:

"Let's Stay Together"/Al Green -- I don't want to say it's sacrilege to not include this, but, dude, it's Al Green, singing, "Let's Stay Together." ... There, I had to take a two-minute dancing break after I typed that, and I hate dancing.

Something by Neil Diamond -- Yeah, snicker all you want. I'm not a fan, but it's hard to get past age 30 without being aware of the guy's talent. For a song, I'll go with the last one I heard: "Forever in Blue Jeans."

Otherwise, I know I'd go with:

Charlie Robison, but I'd pick "My Hometown."

I'd also take Robert Earl Keen's "Gringo Honeymoon" and Billy Joe Shaver's "Try, and try again."

These are mostly top-40 hits, but they're hits for a pretty damn good reason.

Here, with no explanation or order, are some pictures I took of junk around the farm. It's mostly to be thrown away, but I find some of it visually interesting. Also, of course, are the pictures of dogs. The light wasn't always the best and the camera isn't that sharp, so you have what you have.

No more text. Please allow the voices in your head to provide your own muzac. I'm going with "The Little Spanish Flea."

I'm on vacation

Folks:

I'm going to not be posting anything for the rest of this month and probably all of February. Main reason is I've got too much crap on my mind right now and my heart hasn't really been into this for a while.

This is a small message board for me and some friends to entertain ourselves with. Still, I don't want to have to think of stuff to write if I don't feel like it. And right now, I'm not feeling like it.

So, I'll be back in month or so. Probably.

For some news on my life: I've just been hired to take over as assistant sports editor at the Denton Record-Chronicle. I'll be starting early next week. And on that thing that a lot of you just recently helped me out with -- that's still up in the air. We don't need to get into specifics on that for obvious reasons.

Adios, says the evil cat.

Komodo dragon gives birth to many jokes. Also has venemous saliva that can kill within minutes.

Anyway...

John sent me this bit last night with the following comment:

5 Komodo dragons born at British zoo

By ROB HARRIS, Associated Press WriterWed Jan 24, 7:19 AM ET

A British zoo announced Wednesday the virgin birth of five Komodo dragons, giving scientists new hope for the captive breeding of the endangered species.

In an evolutionary twist, the newborns' eight-year-old mother Flora shocked staff at Chester Zoo in northern England when she became pregnant without ever having a male partner or even being exposed to the opposite sex.

John: All I’m saying is I think the dragon’s parents are being a little bit naïve… that’s all I’m saying.

I can't top that, tho professional blogger Dave already has his take up.

Enjoy.

Columnist writes something even dumber than his moustache

To explain for the folks who haven't been paying attention, which will include just about everyone except maybe Coddlemeyer:

In a Tech/Oklahoma basketball game a couple of weeks ago, a double-named forward, Longar Longar, elbowed a Tech player in the face, breaking his eye socket and ending his season. Longar Longar was suspended for two games.

Mike Jones, sports columnist for the Star-Telegram, wrote a column today about this injustice. Longar Longar got hosed, he said.

What, if anything, would have transpired had Longar's elbow whiffed? If he had not made contact and no injury had transpired? If the 6-foot-11 forward had been closely guarded by a 5-10 guard and his elbows sailed over his head? If players from Baylor and Kansas State had been involved?
And of course, what if Kelvin Sampson were still the coach at OU, considering the bad blood between him and Tech coach Bob Knight? That could have really been ugly.
I've taken a look at the replay of the incident several times, as have a lot of other people. The reactions I've seen tend to land on the side of happenstance, that this was just one of those unfortunate things that sometimes happens.

Yes. What if the elbow had missed? Then nothing would have happened.

Also, what if you're so drunk you can't speak English and you drive home and don't get caught? Nothing happens.

Also, what if you're drunk and you climb on a ledge two-stories high and go into the swan position from the "Karate Kid" and manage not to fall? (I did some stupid things in college, ho boy.) Nothing happens.

However, IF you fall off and kill yourself or IF you happen to drive through grandma's front door and plow right through grandpa and the evil cat, what happens? No one is going to take "I didn't mean to do it" as an excuse, you can be damn sure.

Laws dealing with public safety don't give a crap about intent. They are written to keep people from doing stupid things.

The same thing goes with sports rules. It's fine to use a manuever to clear out nearby players, it's not so OK to lead with your elbow at face level. This is because you can seriously hurt people with this move if you do it over and over. Hence, it's big-time illegal to do it. At all. Whether you meant it or not.

* The reference to the moustache in the headline comes from Jones' picture that sadly, doesn't accompany the web version of the column. Let's just say such facial hair would get him beaten up on the set of "Deadwood."

Nothing to wrie about, so ...

I'm resorting to cat graphics ...
http://b3ta.hnldesign.nl/rsc/

48 hours with a blank screen in my head

Sometimes whatever well you've been drawing from runs dry. I got very few things in my head (Ha!) nowadays except for work and wait for job search to pan out. Makes me a dull boy.

This post was originally going to be about water conservation, for God's sakes. The other thing on my mind lately? Sudoku. Finally started doing it.

Somebody stop me. Man.

Let me jump on the bandwagon with ... David Beckett derision

Update: Apparently I got my Beckhams and Becketts confused again. Sorry. But I'm going to take a wild leap here and guess that you really don't care.

I'm actually kind of partial to soccer. Up to a point. I consider it about on the same level of track, in that I get excited about it every four years for the World Cup or the Olympics, respectively.

At least as long as the United States is somehow involved in the competition.

After that, and beyond that, no way, I don' wanna care. It interferes too much with the sports I care about, and I can get downright defensive about the sports I care about.

Hence, when I see:

"The most recognized soccer player on the planet -- fashion icon, tabloid
fixture, marketing giant -- announced a deal Thursday to play for the Los
Angeles Galaxy."

I immediately feel a special glimmer of joy. All the northeast sports media experts drooling at Beckett's glorious arrival and screaming "Big time soccer has arrived in the U.S.", only to be swallowed up by an American sports fan base that still doesn't know if it really likes hockey.

Fun from the Irish

"At a U2 concert in Dublin, Bono asks the audience for some quiet. Then in the silence, he starts to slowly clap his hands. Holding the audience in total silence, he says into the microphone: 'Every time I clap my hands, a child in Africa dies.' A voice from the crowd pierces the silence: '[Expletive] stop doing it then!'"

Actual joke I made in college:

"Yeah, with a North Texas journalism degree, you can get the finest
pizza-slingin' jobs out there."

Actual beginning of a day last week:

"Sam (as they know me at Central Market), we want you to start making pizza
for us."

Ah, the delicious irony! Covered with pepperoni and extra cheese! *

It's a little strange. When I started working in the kitchen, I was disappointed that my job did not involve any cooking whatsoever. So, I can honestly say that making pizza is a step up. Maybe not a step in the right direction, but a good step for now. (Also, I can snarf down whatever I want, so long as it's in sample sizes and the customers can't see me.)

So, yes, if you happen to be at the Central Market, come by and order something up. It's $7 and up for a 12-inch, but it is really good stuff. (So, in a way, I guess I was right, it's a damn fine pizza-slingin' job.)

Notes:

• I stopped by the University of North Texas on Tuesday, and I just wanted to write that, although a lot of things have changed, I occasionally came across something that brought back nostalgic memories and stuff. That's all.
• You never know how important carpet is to heating a house until you don't have any and you're freezing your ass off.

*North Texas is the best journalism school in the state, and I'm where I am because of my own decisions. Don't be gettin' all dissed, yo.

Me and my big fat stupid freaking mouth

Scene: FedEx Kinko's, downtown Fort Worth. It's 7:30 a.m. in the morning. I rush in with a booklet and accelerated expression.

Me: I need a notary.

FedEx guy: OK. (Begins to pull out notary stuff from counter.)

Me (With an expression of relief): Great. Man, I was worried that I
wouldn't be able to get this done by 9 a.m., and I have a really important
appointment then.

FedEx guy: Oh yeah. (Pause.) I'm sorry, but we're not supposed to do
notaries until nine.

Me: But ...

MySpace don't feel like home

My wife’s sister recently put up a page on MySpace (No, I’m damn well not putting up a link) and this has led to some interesting conversations. First my wife talked about snooping around the site, looking for old friends and the like.

She has since suggested that we set up a page so that we can receive all the glorious benefits. Uh-huh.

I really don’t know much about MySpace. I had heard that no one over 30 can have both an active MySpace page and any real amount of self respect. For the hell of it, I checked out MySpace late Thursday night. Mainly I searched for Monterey High School and found ... Garbage. Complete stinkin’ garbage.

Picture after picture of young girls on line for "friends" yet always posing in pictures with a sultry look. (I’m not sure what sultry means, mainly the word I was looking for was "cleavage.")

The boys were worse. Posing in obviously nerdy pictures or with their shirts off and flexing.
Everybody was so desperately trying to convey an image that you immediately knew it was false.

And do you have to put "LOL!" after every stinking sentence? Sweetheart, we know you’re happy from the way every statement ends with an exclamation point and the generally giddy interpretation of a car ride with your BFF to go shopping. Also, there’s a picture of you taking a colored drink shot with your most attractive friends. Really, I get it that you’re making an attempt at a joke here. ;)

Meanwhile, I couldn’t find anyone my age that I went to high school with. Well, almost no one. I found one dude I don’t remember. In his picture, he was wearing a freakin’ suit of armor. He included a video from a Society of Creative Anachronism fight, as if it’ll actually get people to join.

Later, I found one guy I could remember, around page 33 of the search. He seemed to be OK, talked about how weird he was but was kept in line by his wife, etc. On the good side, if the picture he posted is accurate, he’s lost a lot of weight since high school, so that’s a good thing.

Also found a girl, whose name I remembered but didn’t know why. Turned out she was a former Miss Lubbock, and that’s why I had vague recollection. Also explains why she would have a MySpace page.

There were some other people my age, but I gave up about halfway through the results. Couldn’t recognize anyone. Sheesh, everyone has changed so much, it was pretty pointless. I’d need a year book and first and last names.

I don’t know. I suppose from high school there’s maybe 10 people I’m curious about. I get the feeling that they sure as hell aren’t posting there, next to the 19-year-old girl who loves "trying new things when I'm wasted, lol!!!"

Notes

Celebrated my wife's birthday today. She was present.

The woman often tries to tease me by reminding me that I am roughly three weeks older than she is, and I'll always be. At our age, it's like two rocks from the cambric era arguing which one got shot out of the volcano first. I'm not wrinkling my brow over this one.

For her day, I made my first ever baked-from-scratch cake. No cake mixes or microwaves involved. It turned out OK, and the process wasn't really that bad, except for the frilly pink apron I had to wear.

(I didn't actually put the apron on. I was considering what kind of icing pattern I should use, looked down, and there it was. "Get it off me!" I screamed, beating at it with suddenly ineffectual arms. "GET IT OFF ME!")

Mer said she liked the flavor, so it turned out OK.

Otherwise...
Sheesh. Life has been a complete blur since Christmas. Christmas day was nice, but it was sandwiched around 15 hours of driving and not much time off. I've got reams of paperwork I'm shifting through, and before I complain too much, I'll just say my mind has not been showing a whole lot of focus lately.

Case in point: The other day, I was wondering around the grocery store like Elmo and discovered we have a dry-cured bacon. It's bacon, but it doesn't need refrigeration. You can therefore take it anywhere. This will make the next backpacking trip I take completely freaking awesome.

And the whole reason for telling that story was to say that it took me six minutes to try to explain the same thing to my wife.

I've been desperately thinking about possible destinations and times for a hike or a backpacking trip. Otherwise, I'm just tired. The lyrics of John Mayer's "No Such Thing" play in my head a lot.

"Welcome to the real world,"
She said to me, condescendingly.
"Take a seat, take your life,
Plot it out in black and white."

(And go silent when you realize you don't know any more words except for part of the ...)

Chorus
I want to run through the halls of my high school.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

... And something else.

Ah, the fall of 2002. Mostly indistinguishable from the other time I spent in Abilene.

A News From Hico Apology

Now that New Year's has passed, and those of us with bowl teams are either standing, mouth agape at our failure or deluding ourselves that a win will translate into success next season -- I wanted to take this time to let some people know that I'm sorry.

Apparently the content of this year's Christmas cards has caused some befuddlement out there. Let me just say that I did what I did in hopes of entertaining you, and most importantly, in hopes of screwing things up so badly that my wife will never make me write season's greetings again.

We all enjoy opening up a card with a sacred scene or a merry little design. Few people expect the inside to contain a commentary on their son's tatoo collection. Or include wishes that they don't die anytime soon or that their dogs avoid gas.

I understand the surprise at this happy time of year. So, let me just say that, above all, IT WAS A FREAKIN' JOKE. GET OVER IT.

And that I'm sorry.

Tech ... wins?

Lordy, to be in Bleacher's Sports Bar sometime within the next week. They'll be playing the game, over and over, and it's not like people have something better to do during the winter break.

Merry Christmas

It's kind of strange that the older I get, the more Christmas eves I spend on the road. Y'all take care.

Notes:

• Dropped Meredith off at the airport today. Will eventually follow. But for a few days, I'm home alone, and you know what that means: Uninhibited paperwork and watching Battlestar Gallactica on DVD until my eyes close of their own volition. I may even hook up the X-Box. Stand back and let the party roll. And otherwise try to keep my life from falling apart.
• My car insurance agent has sent me the calendar of "Beautiful America." (The Onion's list of top-selling calendars included the It'll Do Scenes of Wildlife, 2005.) And I'm not too impressed with this effort. It has a snow-capped mountain reflected on a lake, a picture that I could have taken. A sunset on the beach. Another mountain reflected on a lake. Really, I think we've all reached a level of sophistication that requires more than "Ain't that rock pretty" kind of photo. On the plus side, it does have a shot of Palo Duro State Park near Amarillo, which reminds me that I want to go backpacking either there or at Caprock Canyons.
• Got new tires yesterday. Right now I'm in the odd phase where they stick to the road like glue, so much so that it's tempting to take stupid chances. Let's hope that doesn't last.
• Hmmmm ... Christmas shopping. Gotta do that sometime. I'll ponder that with a cookie.

X-Mas music

I work a good deal of the day in a refrigerator. A refrigerator that has music piped in.

It obviously isn't music of our choice, as such a thing would probably have the kitchen staff at each other's throats the moment someone demanded conceptual jazz.

No, the music we hear has the typical, "Relax-don't-steal" kind of mentality to it. Easy listening (surely someone's pointed out that contradiction) stuff by artists you've never heard of but remain familiar.

And at this time of the year, it's Christmas music time.

I should qualify this by saying I grew up in a church choir.

What time is it?

(Fortissimo) Game time!

I like Christmas music. Or at least the traditional hymns that you can imagine coming out of someone in a Dickens-era costume.

That being said, the vast majority of modern Christmas music would have made the baby Jesus have second thoughts about the whole saving-of-mankind mission.

I speak, in general, of the two main types of recent Christmas music: Chistmas is cool, dude, and My boyfriend just left me and I'm so lonely that the pumpkin pie will taste a bit off this year.

Christmas is cool, dude, had it's highlight with Nat King Cole's "The Christmas Song." It should have ended there. Instead, we have 150 versions of "The Christmas Song" and 1,500 songs that talk about how great Nat King Cole was whenever he sang "The Christmas Song."

"Rockin' around the Christmas Tree," and "Jingle Bell Rock" also get played five times an hour just because they have the words "rock" in them. And, for the first time this year, I've discovered that Bon Jovi wishes it could be Christmas forever, and that Metallica saw mommy kissing Santa Claus. (Yes, I made that one up.)

Meanwhile: The I'm so lonely type especially grates because, while everybody else is having a good time, somebody's gotta dump their depression in the middle of the annual office bacchanalia.

Hence, George Michael sings:

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart.

The very next day, we went cruisin' the park.

Or something like that.

And really, the sickest thing I've heard is a song called "Santa Baby", about a woman who seems to have sexual fixation on Mr. Claus. "Hurry down my chimney tonight," she sings. It's supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but after you've listened to something 300 times, the tongue has worn through the cheek and is sticking out at you in a sick raspberry.

I don't have some conclusion here, just complaining.

Breaking: Truck That Does Not Move Moves

I got a call on my phone when this happened:

You may recall several postings I did over this hunk of garbage directly across a dangerously narrow street from our driveway.

Well, here's the scene today:

The Truck That Does Not Move did not move, of course, under its own power. A tow truck came to take it to it's proper resting place, perhaps as a case of Busch beer. I don't know why they finally gave up on the poor sucker. Maybe they realized the time had come at last.

Now if they can do something about the damn boat ...

Roasting wieners after 35

Got Thursday off, took the chance to take an overnight trip to the farm.

I still have some unfinished business to take care of out here, thanks to the fact that I will always be personally disorganized – There’s mail, bank accounts I gotta close, and I have no idea how I’m going to move all of my stuff to Fort Worth, especially considering that 3 1/2 of the closets we have are already crammed with my wife’s junk.

But what the hell, it’s not like I can spend all of my time thinking about it, and I’m not going to while I’m out here.

I take the dogs down to the tanks near the front of the place. They’re both empty, except for mud, which the dogs get all over themselves. I walk along the dry bottoms for a bit, picking up garbage and throwing it toward the shore. One pond has an old steel barrel buried halfway in mud. I’ll get that one day. It isn’t today, though.

Dinner is hot dogs of indeterminate age, eaten on heat to eat yeast rolls that never got heated or eaten at Thanksgiving. A man on a budget does what he can. And they’re quite tasty.

After that, I allow myself one Shinerbock, and then head outside to alternate staring at the fire and the sky.

Clear, bright night. No moon out but the stars are enough to see by.

The fire burns down to coals, except for one log that stubbornly holds its shape. A coyote starts howling from what seems like 50 yards away, and is joined by others along the Bosque valley.

My dogs start whining, I go back inside.

Last Sunday was my 35th birthday. For all intents and purposes, middle age. (I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of big important stuff left for me to do after age 70, barring a medical miracle that staves off old age.

Starting at 26, I really hated birthdays. But that feeling has started to fade.

Looking back, I don’t feel that longing to return. I was awkward as a teenager and stupid in my twenties. There’s always the "If I’d have known then ..." aspect, but there’s a reason you didn’t know it.

Looking back over this year: I managed to scrimp by in Hico; I haven’t had to take a job I hate (yet) to make ends meet; I still feel pretty good about finding a career I like; and I got married and haven’t managed to screw it up in almost four months.

All things considered, it’s been a damn good year.

Don't get started

This pattern tends to repeat itself a lot for me:

• Person makes some general statement on subject.
• I chime in with some half-assed, generally accepted opinion.
• Person proceeds to go on 15-minute harangue about subject, going into details so tedious it feels like chalk being scraped across the inside of my skull.

Why no, I didn't know that about Beyoncé, thanks.

Newsprint, RIP

We all know the death of newspapers is coming. Here's a pretty good guess as to how it happens. (It's out of date a bit, but still worth watching for the interested.)

Coaching call

So:

• Tech coach Mike Leach is staying.
• Todd Dodge, coach of high school powerhouse Southlake Carroll, is going to my alma mater North Texas.
• Dennis Franchioonnee is staying at A&M.

Once again, Christmas is coming early.

Some quick differences between Southlake Carroll and North Texas.

• Value ratio for cars in parking lot (Carroll/UNT): 10/1
• Carroll has more players able to play in the NFL next season
• North Texas band far superior to Carroll's, but Carroll's could probably beat the crap out of UNT's in a cage fight.

Blog change

I went ahead and converted to the new format Blogpot was pushing on me. No big changes to speak of, but I will point out the blog roll, now on the right side of the page. These are all the people I know who are blogging. If you have something started, let me know.

If we pool our resources, we may someday surpass the 20-hits a day mark.

By the way, I'll be screwing around with the template and other stuff, just to see what I can do. It's still me.

Work blah

It's amazing what work takes from your life. I've been punch-drunk now for a week, and it's difficult to remember when I started doing this thing and when's the last time I had a full weekend off. (Quick answers: 12 days ago, and weekends are meaningless when you're unemployed.)

I do not have a complicated job. It involves taking food out and putting it in front of people who I otherwise avoid eye contact with. Easy, save for the times when the people are lined up around the counter, three deep, all wanting to get something before the Cowboy game begins. Many also want to know where the soda pop is.

Otherwise, I'll spare the details. It's too tedious to describe beyond that. Still, you just come home and the head throbs, and you dream about getting the grilled asparagus and wilted spinach mixed up. And that you take them out before you realized your pants were missing.

Notes:

• I'm thinking maybe the Cowboys got a dose of normalcy there. I didn't see getting hammered by the Saints as a "message" the way ESPN had it labeled. All streaks come to an end, might as well be now.
• Some of you may be getting some strange Christmas cards. Mer demanded that we share the responsibility, I told her there are some things, like a pregnancy, that men and women can't really share. That did not go over well. So I did the cards. Best wishes to all.
• I get the feeling I'm missing something by never having read "Dune."

I'm either going to have to drink more coffee or stop blogging at 2 a.m.

Just saying.

Women: Not as funny, but in tune with other stuff

Christopher Hitchens, in an article that exists solely to piss people off, says that woman aren't as funny as men, and lists some theories behind it. I basically agree with the gist of it, though, of course, I've met plenty of women who stack up at the far end of the bell curve.

Two things:

1. It's strange that a guy who doesn't spend a great deal of time trying to make people laugh would write the article. Then again, most people who do humor also know that one of the most unfunny things possible is to analyze humor, or even talk about funny as a subject. Case in point, I recall one writer once talking about himself. (He was (is) a good writer.) But he also said, point-blank, "You know, I'm a funny guy." After that, I couldn't laugh at him. Don't know, that remark just made me wretch. Plenty of women, however, thought him clever. The other guys in the office just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
2. Women are much better than men at picking up on the depression of pets. I've heard "You're dog seems sad" many times. I'm usually thinking, "He seemed happy enough when he was eating whatever dead animal he just dug up."

Leave him alone

So, the Star-Telegram has a picture today of a smiling Tony Romo and an inside story on "D-FW's No. 1 Sports Bachelor".

Sheesh. Typical. A man is doing great things with his life and the only thing women can think about is getting laid.

Store

Grand Opening today at Central Market. I just got back from my shift. People out there really love chicken salad. At a level I had never fathomed before. Man.

Notes

I've a had a cold that has wiped me out over the last week, so sorry if I haven't been that responsive on the e-mail. It's just about over, so I should get back to a normal schedule soon.

Leaching me
So Texas Tech coach Mike Leach is looking at the Miami job. I think most Tech fans would be sorry to see him go. Though at the same time, it's good to see someone you cheered for going to a place where they have a legitimate shot (as opposed to an outside snowball's chance in hell) of winning a national championship in the near future.

On the downside, you have to wonder whether the atmosphere in Miami would suit Leach. Lubbock was happy for him to be a free spirit who didn't give a crap about coaching politics, so long as his teams kept getting better. I doubt they'd be as openminded in Miami. (Yes, I realize the irony, thanks.)

My first choice of a replacement is Art Briles, who's doing a good job at Houston and has West Texas ties.

Working

Folks:

In the interest of being bored with censoring myself every time I write about finding a job, here's the current situation:

I'm now a platterer at the new H-E-B Central Market in Southlake.

For those of you unfamiliar with Central Market, it's a place that sells itself as the store for gourmets. And it has some great food, so long as you don't mind spending $3 on a tomato.

As a platterer, I work in the store's kitchen, which makes gourmet food you can take right home to your family. If you don't tell them you didn't make it, we won't! (wink).

Yawn.

My job is to take the finished dishes from the walk-in cooler, make them look aesthetically pleasing, and put them in the display case out in the front. I then refill as people buy.

There's plenty of other stuff involved, but that's it in a nutshell. I spend about half the day in a refrigerator. It's wired so that a klaxon alarm goes off if the temperature goes over 40 degrees. You make think this would be the perfect job for the sweatiest man alive, but he'd like to point out that summer is six months away.

And while I have had a lifelong passion about making food look pretty, $10.50 an hour does not make for a merry Christmas at the Segrist house. I have a couple of irons in the fire, we'll see how those turn out.

Mighty, mighty Plainsmen

So, tonight my old Monterey high school will be taking on Colleyville in the third round of the 5A, Div. II playoffs.

They're playing in Abilene at Shotwell Stadium. Which, while not being a great stadium, has the best name of any high school football stadium anywhere.

If it wasn't for the fact that I wasn't already making myself late for work by typing this, I'd be getting ready for a road trip so I could enjoy some Perini's Steak House and freeze my ass off.

Then again, my presence never did much to help Lubbock Monterey win, even when I was a very dedicated second-string placekicker.

Dixie Chicks exposed. Again.

The headline at the top of the Star-Telegram's front ("skyboxes" for people who know): "How the Dixie Chicks can make '07 brighter and win their fans back."

I don't like the Dixie Chicks. Perhaps you do. Perhaps you saw "Dixie Chicks" and immediately thought about not listening to music. But really, there's something here that we can all agree on. And that's, for God's sakes, don't let Natalie Maines take career advice from whoever is telling Britney Spears to expose her parts of the most girlishishness.

Thinking along those lines, here are some people whose career could probably benefit from an exposed crotch shot:
Danny DeVito
Yoda and/or Grover
The Little Mermaid
Bob Stoops
That announcer guy who partners with Troy Aikman
Rachel Ray, or maybe Emeril
K-Fed's Lawyer
The entire cast of next season's Dancin' with the Stars
Clint Howard

Also, in the next interation of Star Wars, Yoda and Grover should have a light saber battle. That'd be awesome.

A new version of blogger, just 'cause

Every time I go to the blogspot sign-in spot, I get a message urging me to switch to the new version. The requests are becoming more insistent.

Really, I'm happy with this version. It works, and new versions are always tremendous screw-ups I have to spend hours trying to figure out. They also want me to set up a Google account, and while I use them all the time, Google, Inc., also tends to cheese me off.

The only answer: I will continue to procrastinate. Take that!