Pet update

How are my animals? Glad you asked.

Ginger

I worry sometimes how much age is starting to affect the ole girl, who is now about 13. She stumbles around more, doesn't play much with the other dog and her eyes are clouding over. Still, she remains as independent as an old stray and is always the one finding new escape routes out of the backyard. Damn dog knows I love her more when she gets into trouble.

The Evil Cat

Still brooding, still planning. Though recently she's not the Evil Cat so much as the Evil Cat For Whom the Litter Box Is Only A Suggestion. Tho maybe that fits in with her plan. Hmmm ...

Jimbo

Good boy. Still showing flashes of brilliance. Still unable to grasp the completely obvious.*

*Yes, he is the one I emphathize the most with.

Welcome home (Breathe)

My sister-in-law's husband Charokee just finished a tour in Iraq, and is back "home" (such as it is) at his base in Italy.

So, with a huge mental sigh of relief, I just wanted to welcome him back.

I don't do politics here, but I'll say that I've been proud and fearful to know a good man who was over there.

It's nice to drop the fear part.

Getting to know you

My marriage reached a milestone today.

At the Kroger, I was following the list Meredith had written, and came to "Jelly with red gingham lid."

The funny part here is that my wife expects me to know what she's talking about when she says "gingham."

The sad part is that, after a year of marriage, I do.

We also had the following conversation before I went shopping:

Me: On the list, you wrote "funny card for your parents' anniversary".
Meredith: Uh-huh.
Me: You want me to pick out something I find funny for your parents?
Meredith: (Pause.) Just get something nice.

Bonus link:
Female porn. (No worries, it's definitely safe for work and your grandma.)

Famous internet stuff

Here's a video that summarizes relatively popular internet stuff in the same way that "We didn't start the fire" summed up 40 years of history. I didn't find either of these things funny so much as diverting and catchy.

"Fire," though, is funny if you add a verse about all the dumb things William Joel has done to himself since he made that album.

Dancing in my videos,

Brinkley is divorcio,

I'll make music from the 50s,

Have another drink.

That took me all of 30 seconds, like it's writing itself. Surely that's been done before.

Anyway, the web thing is a pretty good test of how closely you've kept up with internet pop culture. I've seen about 10 percent of the things it talks about, and heard about maybe 10 percent of the other stuff. For that, I give myself an A.

First post this week

Pathetic.

This is probably the most I've slacked off of this thing since I started taking it seriously.

My apologies. Baby's on the way and it seems like all we have time for is projects and sleeping.

Frustrating as some ideas have popped into my head lately but I just don't have the time to write them down.

I can't wait until he's born so I can get some sleep.

A post solely for my Mom

You're welcome.

Sympathy, man to man

My wife asked me to pick up a couple of sympathy cards when I was picking up some macaroni at the Kroger today.

The strange part was the request: "Get something that’s appropriate to give to a man."

Uh-huh. I remember receiving one sympathy card in my life. It was from a girl I was dating, and my primary thought on opening it was, "If I don’t show the right amount of thankfulness, she’s going to be real ticked off."

So at Kroger, I picked out the plainest cards with the plainest font and the plainest phrase – "With sympathy." After I bought them, I realized that I hadn’t read what was on the inside. I spent more time picking out the macaroni.

Meredith was happy with them. Huh.

So what would be an appropriate sympathy card for a guy to send to another guy?

• The cover: "Dude!" Inside: "Man, dude."
• The cover: Picture of Barney. Inside: "I like you, you like me, sorry ‘bout the death in your family."
• The cover: Jessica Alba in a bikini. Inside: Jessica Alba in a bikini.

Actually, someone could make a killing here, so long as they sold the cards in bars. Seriously, the Postal Service would have to open new branches to keep up with thousands of notes, all reeking of beer and peanuts:

Dude:

You rock. You really rock out. The house. I love you. I love you because you so rock. Out. Dude. Forget about that girl, you’re way better than that angry wench, man. I don’t wanna hear you whining that whine about "Wah! I’m so sad! Mommy!" Dude, you’ll get over it. Because YOU ROCK DA HOUSE.

We love you.

Your dudes

*I get the feeling this has been done before, but what the hell.

Well, that was weird

Driven by Lauren Jones "Anchorwoman" mania, this site brought in 598 visitors on Saturday. This is a 3,000-percent increase over my usual daily visitor total. (I think. I'm guessing that no one here is a real stickler on math.)

Every single one of the newbies was brought in by a Google Image search, and the vast majority checked out within .87 seconds of discovering I did not feature bikini shots.

We were back down into the 20s on Tuesday, and I feel a bit more comfortable.

Thanks for the responses on the Vick piece. I was exhausted when I wrote it, and wasn't sure how it'd turn out. I don't even know if I agree with everything I wrote, but nothing's turned up lately that just blasts out "YOU'RE WRONG" to me.

Michael Vick should play again

I don't know why I've been defending unpopular athletes lately.

And I don't think he's getting a raw deal. I don't like Vick. His behavior was thuggish before this happened. Dogs are the greatest animals on earth. I have serious doubts about running quarterbacks in the NFL.

Vick should go to jail. A year, maybe two.

And then?

The thing is, the crime, along with the cruel and revolting nature of it, is just so freakin' bizarre. And that's why he deserves another chance.

Back in my early reporter days, I was doing a feature story on a retired geezer who spent his time competing in senior activities and pontificating on how the youth of today should also be doing these activities. "Maybe if they was pitchin' horseshoes they'd have less time to get into trouble."

(You do a lot of these types of stories while working in suburbia.)

So, the old man and his wife were thrilled that me and the photographer had come to visit. He showed me his backyard. He showed me how to throw a horseshoe. He showed me a note from the White House that said "We have recieved your letter," in response to a rambling note he had written suggesting the creation of a federal program for the advancement of horseshoe pitching. (He showed me a copy of that.)

And, in one of the more surreal moments of my life, he showed me his artwork.

He opened the garage door. Dead center in front of me was a picture of a rooster, smiling. The rooster was standing in a ring, surrounded by happy little round faces of people in bleachers, also smiling. To make a rooster seem to smile, you can either be one of the world's greatest artists, or one who tries very hard. Feel free to guess here.

And so the man explained his passion for cock fighting and how he tried to translate that onto the canvas. He also had also fought dogs, he said, "But those are harder to draw."

During this time, me and the photographer passed a few looks and said "really?" a lot. I took no notes. The photographer didn't take any pictures.

Afterwards, we consoled ourselves that he no longer seemed to be active in spectative animal killing. I never called the police, and the bit about cock fighting was not in the story.

What was I supposed to do? Attempt to send a married and retired 75-year-old man to jail? The thing about it, the man had no idea he was doing anything wrong. It was out of complete innocence that he showed us that garage.

He probably grew up with that, I thought. He was never in a situation to get out of it.

And so you have Michael Vick. From the poorest, oldest neighborhoods of Virginia. He kept his friends around him after he got famous. We jump on other celebrities who don't do that. He spent his life ignoring advice people were trying to give him.

We hear about these cases all the time. Thing is, it usually involves an athlete beating his wife, pointing a gun at the pizza boy, or having an unstoppable love for the ganga.

Once you do these things, it's a pretty good indication that you are in danger of doing these things for the rest of your life, and have become a menace to society.

But dog fighting?

I don't see this as an addiction or an anger management problem. I see it as a really disgusting activity. I don't see Michael Vick jonesing in prison, dying to get out so he can raise pit bulls and then kill them. I don't see millions of kids across the nation teetering on the brink, trying to decide whether or not to buy their first pit bull.

A person who has served his time in prison deserves a second chance. Understandably, you don't hire a convicted thief to work at a jewelry shop. You wouldn't hire Vick to tend a pet store.

But running around on a football field is a different matter. When he gets out of prison, if he's saying the right things ("I am a moron" and "Dogs should not be tortured"), then he should play again.

Maybe seeing everything he has go poof will keep him out of trouble. If not, he goes back to jail, and he never gets back on the field.

Fox's "Anchorwoman" improves ratings

(Cancelation update at bottom.)

At least for me. This site is getting more traffic than ever before. Lord knows what it's doing for Fox.

To recap, "Anchorwoman" is a reality TV show that puts this woman, Lauren Jones:

in Tyler, Texas, to read the news. It first premiered Wednesday night.


I wrote a bit about this in June.


I haven't written much of anything for the last couple of weeks, but have watched my daily visitor count steadly climb anyway. I reached an all-time high of 68 people on Sunday. (And no one ever comes by here on Sunday.)

What I have to thank is google image search, and the ability to steal pictures that look like this*:
So, thanks for stopping by. My only goal for the site is to try to maintain an atmosphere of friends sitting around a table in a decent bar, right at the 2-1/2 beer level. Sorry that I don't specialize in pictures of wrestling women.


And I don't have much else to add as far as commentary on the show. I work nights, I don't have Tivo, and I don't have any real interest in watching this. I'm guessing it involves a great deal of "hot woman humiliating herself" followed by "small town people expressing umbrage" or "small town people basically saying 'Yahoo' in 20-second mumble."


Here's some early criticism of the show:

From the Chicago Sun-Times:

"None of this is amusing, unless you can't get enough of TV shows depicting Americans as imbeciles to make you feel better about yourself by contrast."

Yeah, that formula never brings in ratings.


Here's something more in line with my thinking, from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette:

"Setting aside the hand-wringing and taking "Anchorwoman" purely as entertainment, the first half-hour of the one-hour premiere is a breezy diversion. It's train wreck TV that often seems less real and more contrived, but it's kind of a hoot anyway."

And later ...

"That may be the real statement "Anchorwoman" has to make about the state of local news: You can't really corrupt something that was already bankrupt before Hollywood came to town."

Lauren Jones apparently hacked some people off by saying that being a journalist isn't "brain surgery." From my experience, I'll say a big problem today is that too many people think it is.

UPDATE: ANCHORWOMAN CANCELED AFTER ONE EPISODE

So, on one hand, the latest jump in visits I've received will go down. On the other hand, I'll stop feeling like a whore.

From the AP:

Here's news that Fox's series "Anchorwoman" wouldn't want to deliver: It's been canceled after one low-rated airing.

The debut of the reality show about Lauren Jones' attempt to turn herself into a news anchor for a Texas TV station drew an estimated 2.7 million viewers Wednesday, according to preliminary figures from Nielsen Media Research.

That number is about a third of the viewership Fox attracted a week earlier with the finale of its popular "So You Think You Can Dance."

... Unaired episodes of "Anchorwoman" will be available on Fox's website through Fox on Demand, the network said Thursday.

I guess you could see it coming. I at least thought it'd make it halfway through the season, but this is Fox.

The front character was a blonde star wannabe, not really a sympathetic type, and the premise wasn't shocking enough to attract the folks from Jerry Springer. Off it goes.

I'm sure we'll all be OK. Except for Tyler. It's chance to be in the spotlight was just ripped away.

Somewhere, Earl Campbell just sighed sadly. Then he smoked some sausage.

*No, she's not near my type.

** It's difficult to find images of this woman fully clothed. I have no idea why people are ending up here.

Cookie problems

Aren't letting blog at home today. (The thing not letting me blog last week was "lazy ass.")

Anyway, real quick, here's something guaranteed to make most of you feel old.

The world that the incoming college class of 2007 lives in.

*Taken from Ace

Brats

I don't really worry too much about being a Dad who doesn't give a damn about what my kid is doing. My primary worries can best be summed up in this article.

“Although most parents mean well and are trying to do right by their kid, they fall into a trap of making the child an extension of their own ego.”

My weekend just got better

Wes Welker Scores!!!
I'm going to have to find some theme music, video, something for this season.

Random Wikipedia fun

From the entry on "Ook":

Ook is the only word of the Orangutan language as spoken by orangutans in the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett — specifically, by the Librarian of the Unseen University.

The word ook can mean (via intonation) any word, meaningful or not. So, for example, Ook-ook can be a long speech, an emphatic denial, or a shout of joy. On rare occasions the Librarian has been known to expand his vocabulary to include oook, gook, and, in times of stress, the high pitched eek and eeek.

According to the Librarian, who is patiently compiling an orangutan-human dictionary, definitions include:

• Ook. Excuse me, but that's my rubber ring you're hanging in.
• Ook. Oh, I do beg your pardon, I didn't realise there was a dominant male in this group.
• Ook. I'll Just go and sit over here very quietly, shall I?
• Ook. You're out of your tree. This is my tree.
• Ook. Yes.
• Ook. No.
• Ook. Banana.
• Ook. It may be a vital oxygenating biomass to you, but it's home to me.
  

Elephant Ears Struggling

It's rather hot today ...

Quick take on Barry Bonds

In response to the comment*:

"While you were away, Barry "crybaby on roids" Bonds hit number 756.
Meaningless! Come on, let's start the debate now!"

First off:
I don't know much about sports. Oh, I guess I know a great deal about how to play football and baseball, and I can go to a game and tell you who the best players are that day and what's happening away from the ball. But the encyclopedic knowledge of every athlete, coach or jock holder involved in the sporting universe goes way beyond my interest. I have personal reasons for that fact, a subject I might tackle later.

Secondly, I don't care. I don't get the whole belief that, somehow, the lifetime home run tally is "the most prestigious record in sports." Oh really?

Yes, hitting a baseball is one of the most difficult sporting feats out there. Running 100 meters in under 10 seconds? Also hard. Beating the crap out of somebody who has done nothing but train for six months? Not easy.

I don't get the ranking of one record over the other or how it's even possible to compare.

Why this shows that Major League Baseball today is in crappy shape:
A lot of people remember the 1998 season as the wonderful year that Sammy Sosa and Mark McGuire "saved" baseball. I remember it as the year MLB stopped even pretending that people gave a damn about the game. As in, who has the best team? Who's leading their division?

Nope. Pro baseball today is about a bunch of merceneries out to get the best statistics. The main storyline this season is Bonds, and it's Bonds because MLB doesn't have enough faith that the drama of the Red Sox plowing through everyone is enough to pull in an audience.

They have so little faith that a good season by several quality teams will attract attention, that we instead get non-stop coverage of a chemically enhanced freak that no one likes.

Barry Bonds used steroids. Nyyyahhh.
Yeah. That's pretty obvious. And no one else in baseball ever did. Mark McGuire's record-breaking season out of nowhere was gift from the angel of Babe Ruth and his balls were gently blown over the fence by the ghost of Honus Wagner.

I'll be happy to put an asterisk by Bonds' record so long as we consider every record set in the last 20 years for asteriskability. And that goes for football on the pro and college level.

Barry Bonds is a jerk.
Eh. So in hell he and Ty Cobb will be bunkmates. That's his problem.

Besides, as is often the case, I can't really read if it's him or if it's the relationship he has with the media. Character and media savvy are two different things.

And it's not like this threatens the greatness that is Babe Ruth. The man could eat 30 hotdogs, gulp two pitchers of beer, and then go out and freakin' pound the ball. No one is ever going to be that cool again.

So, the actual quick take on Bonds:
I was mildly happy. Regardless of Bonds, it's an impressive thing to do. And since I work in the sports section, I no longer have to worry about it. It also made a lot dudes on TV with really nice hair and non-deserved attitudes go frothing at the mouth. And I like to see that happen.

*Kind of a random comment, I couldn't peg who that came from. I don't do a whole lot of sports, except talk about Tech and get my non-sexual crush on Wes Welker going.

It's 5 a.m.

Folks:

Thanks for stopping by. Sorry that I haven't posted in the last few days. It's been a non-stop series of obligatory social events, baby furniture assembly, and cooking the chicken before it goes bad. Hence, the poor quality of this note.

Wednesday (today) doesn't look much better for me.

I should be back soon.

I realize this is not making sense.

Gracias.

Why editors have that reputation

Was just exploring the blogs at my hometown paper, the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.

And I gotta tell you, the compilation blog for all the editors is ON FIRE.

Behold the stupendous amount of mind-blowing data put out in one month's time.

Eh.

When I say "on fire", I mean whatever device they were blogging with must have actually caught on fire, and they couldn't use it, thus preventing a great deal of blogging.

Get it? Ha ha!

:)

My wife looks like ...

While we're on the subject of pregnancy, today my wife was one of the subjects in a Star-Telegram picture on pregnant fashion.

Meredith is the one in the center, later referred to as the "Working mother-to-be." Note the shoes: She's the only one in flats, a point in which she took much pride. I'll admit I'm slightly creeped out by the cutting off of the head, but they did that because no one in the shoot is a working model.

I don't know if you can tell much about Meredith from the picture. I can tell you that she liked the pants, but "There's no way, NO WAY I'm paying $90 for something I'm only going to wear two months," darn it all*.

Or something. My wife's exclamations tend to confuse me.

We're having a baby*

Several times over the past few months, I've been in an idle conversation** with somebody and would mention the upcoming arrival of my betrothered. And it would come as a shock to the person I was talking to that I'm about to make my contribution to the next generation of Segrists.

I'm no longer sure who I've told and who I haven't. So, just to put out the notice with a larger bit of volume:

Me and my wife are pregnant.

When: Late September or thereabouts.
What: A boy -- or a girl who is going to have some serious identity issues.
Who: Sam (Tho he won't be a junior).

No, we're not ready. We're not even kidding ourselves about seeing "ready" somewhere over the horizon.

*By which I mean, as per usual, my wife is doing all the work and I'm contributing the sarcasm.
**E-mailing. Like I get into conversations.

A small truth

"He Stopped Loving Her Today" is an overrated song. Really kind of silly, if you think about it.

Yeah, we've all been through those times, usually in our late teens and early 20s, where we swear that we are so broken by rejection, our hearts will never work again. Then we go out and get drunk and stupid with the next one. This is the natural order. We wouldn't want to live in a world where it wasn't. (I'd like to proudly state for the record that alcohol did not play a part in my happy little marriage.)

And yet -- according to "He stopped Loving Her Today" -- any time Bob's friends suggested beer and dominos (or beer and fishing, or fishing and dominos), he'd say no, because "my heart's too dern beat up." Even when he was 50.

To which I say: What a royal pain in the ass. They probably could not get Bob in the ground fast enough. That funeral would have turned into one wild freakin' conga line to the gravesite.

*I don't know why I've been attacking old country songs lately. I'll move on.

Need book

Anybody got any decent books to read?

It needs to be fiction. I've been watching too many movies and reading too many blogs lately and I can feel the brain rot starting to set in.

Two things: I'm not in the mood for Harry Potter. I have nothing against Harry, but I'm not in the mood. And don't tell me "Da Vinci Code." If you tell me "Da Vinci Code," I'm going to spend the rest of my days trying to figure out how to send a kick-in-the-crotch via e-mail.

Are you there God? It's me, Seagraves

Dear God:

Thanks for the lesson in humility. One week after I badmouth some of the players on my softball team, you visit upon my person great pain and embarrassment.

First, You reminded me that I can no longer take 205-plus pounds of flesh from standing still to a dead sprint. You reminded me that I should probably go through about two more phases of increasing speed -- by ripping something in my thigh muscle, causing me to walk with a limp for the foreseeable future.

Second, you showed me that I can't criticize anyone's talents, not when the best I can do with two outs and the game on the line is hit an infield fly. I think the guy at second just held out his hand to catch it and looked bored by the time the ball got there.

Ho! Ha! You really showed me! Very funny God, very funny.

And since we're gabbering, I'd also like to take the time to say thanks for the rain. Yes, many people have lifted up their throats and sometimes their fists -- self-righteously shaking their tall boys -- against the Water That Fell From The Sky And Would Not Stop. And I wish the best for those who were flooded out or those who thought a Ford Escort could make it across water two feet deep and moving at thirty feet per second.

But how easily we forget we've been griping about a drought for ten years now. The lakes are full, and we're midway through the summer and we haven't had a single 100-degree day yet.

Yay, God, for the levels of sweat I emit are not yet overpowering my deodorant, which really helps, let me tell you.

Let me end with the usual stuff: Please look after my wife, please help her to forgive me for whatever I do wrong in the next three hours, watch over our soldiers in Iraq, and please keep Mike Leach from getting lost on the way to Jones Stadium. Again.

Amen.

The project

Phase 1:

Our pomegranate bush actually has a fruit. Unusual.

Phase 1: Complete.

Next time: Phase 2.

Tick-Tock

So, while being overwhelmed at the magnanimous, yet overwhelming, future job of parenting, it hit us the other day: Perhaps we should actually do something to get ready for our child's arrival.


Sure, we've cleared a room, bought some diapers, registered for people to give us stuff, and ... well, it feels like we haven't done nearly enough. I'm not the most organized of people. And the most surprising aspect to me about pregnancy is that my wife -- an organizational phenom --hasn't really done much organizing either. So, as we walked into the Frisco Ikea on Sunday, I felt a little behind that we were just now buying the bed.

Here's what we picked:

Like most products at Ikea, don't ask me to pronounce the name.

It is a pretty handy thing, in that the crib converts to a cot, shown here:

It does not, unfortunately, convert to the color and style pictured, which is what we wanted in the first place, but Ikea discontinued the line and no longer has the matching furniture ... I really could care less about matching furniture and that diaper changing table looks like it'd work but God knows I'm not the one making the furniture-matching decisions, etc. etc., ad infinitum.

I'd like to say the piece we bought was now standing in the cleared room, but we didn't buy it. Ikea has it on display, but it's a new line and is therefore not actually for sale until they get a shipment in -- probably around the first of August -- so call this number on the fifth, ask for Jorge, and this specific item number, etc., etc., ad infinitum.

And the countdown to birth goes on. The kid seems to be taking it easy lately, just wants to go square-dancing every now and then.

A headline that uses "Sooner" as a pun

From Dallas MN:

Calling the case "significant and serious," the NCAA's Division I infractions committee said Wednesday that Oklahoma must vacate its eight football victories during the 2005 season, including a bowl win, because of major violations involving players working at a Norman auto dealership.

My basic reaction here: It's wrong to take away the wins of a team because some bonehead who just had to, just couldn't keep himself away from, whose ego just couldn't stop him from meddling just so he could brag about it to his mechanics, who probably can't stand him as it as, freakin' jerk.

Anyway... It's a shame that the entire organization has to forfeit two-year-old wins* because one dumb guy gave money to two even dumber players. And really, it only makes sense in a metaphysical way that the vast majority of football players aren't going to get. (Though this will probably lead to the biggest on-campus football celebration Baylor has ever had.)

On the other hand, I hope that this will allow me and my Oklahoma buddies to put behind us a certain "blown" call at the end of the season in question.

UPDATE: Well, apparently not...

"Don't kid yourself dude -- the pain of being cornholed in Lubbock shall never fade. That's OK, it took Tech's best team under Leach, OU's worst team under Stoops and bunch of blind referees from the South Plains for Tech to finally sneak out a win this century!"

That'd be from one of the Oklahomans.

* Pending appeal, blah, blah, blah.

Softball

Back in college, I ran around with a group of people, who – collectively – had the skills of a decent softball team.

None of us were great all-around players, but some of us could hit, some of us could field and most of us could manage a mildly successful imitation of both. Hence, we always stood a decent chance of winning.

I was thinking about this as I drove home from a 25-zip massacre at the hands of a very average team in the lowest division the city of Denton offers. We had one player who ran towards a pop-up, yelling, “I don’t got it! Someone else get it!” Yet she continued running toward it -- and into the crowd trying to catch it. (A very likable person, by the way, but I had to use an example.)

So I was thinking about college, and the thought hit me: It’s been more than a freakin’ decade since I won a softball game. Twelve years. Bill Clinton was frolicking through his first term. The Internet was this place where people went to “alt” sites to compare text on the grunge movement.

Children have started and completed their educational careers in the time since I last made it across home plate.

It’s not that I haven’t played, it’s that I haven’t played seriously, or with anyone else who took it that seriously. I’ve just been on company teams – newspaper teams at that -- where the emphasis is on fun. As in “You're outside so shut the hell up.”

So, as Wednesday was the first game of our season, here we go again. I feel like the Charlie Brown of softball, only with less hair.

A small truth

"To All the Girls I've Loved Before" is a horrendous song.

Reminded of this when it came over the grocery store intercom:

• Music: Bland.
• Singing: Not near the strengths of either musicians.
• Lyrics: An abomination.

"The winds of change continue blowing.
And every time I tried to stay,
The winds of change continued blowing
And they just carried me away."

Really? Why couldn't they have just sent a nice greeting card with a kitten hanging from a rope or a dog looking startled and wrote on the inside: "Thanks for the sex" or "Gracias pour l'amore"?

Much easier. I'm sure they all left addresses. Somewhere.

Actual flooding in Hico

Hico makes the wire. Thanks to Todd.

Associated Press

... "We have really got some major flooding," Hico MayorLavern Tooley said Sunday evening.

The rains beganabout 4:45 p.m.

"It just did not let up," she said.

Some homes in low-lying areas were flooded. No injuries were reported. Tooley said water rose up to the bottom of the windows on one police sergeant's home. Some major roads were closed into the town about100 miles southwest of Dallas.

Quick review: 'Spamalot'

With all the usual qualifications that musical theater is not my thing and I'd rather be changing channels between a boxing match and football game with a nice mug of beer while climbing the highest mountain in Oklahoma. ... Actually, screw that. This is Monty Python. I should have gone in drag.

Me and Meredith went to the show Sunday night, the last one in Dallas, so I'm sure this'll do everyone a world of good. Especially in Tulsa, where it looks like they're going next.

Basically, Spamalot is the best time I've had a show pretty much since I was kid and much more easily impressed. That being said, I haven't been to a lot of shows, and even as a kid was just pretty much dragged to the Nutcracker once a year, so I guess this all depends on your perspective.

The great part of the show is that it's based on one of the classic film comedies of all time -- Monty Python's Holy Grail -- with a lot of other snippets of Python stuff thown in.

The bad part of the show is that based on one of the most-watched comedies of all time. You find yourself finishing the jokes before they do or feeling mildly annoyed when they do something different than what you were expecting.

There's also a sense that Eric Idle (writer, original Python) has lost some of the edge, some of the anger, since his Python days. When Finnish dancers pop up on the stage and start singing and hitting each other with fish, the joke goes on too long and doesn't end until the "historian" politely says, "No, this is England."

Back in the series days, the Fins would have smashed with a giant hammer or chased away by vikings hurling cans of Spam or something.

But, really, what else did you expect? Musical theater by its nature requires actual dances and songs -- subjects that were used only to short, comic effect on the television series and the movies. A theatrical show has to be based around that stuff.

So, the first act isn't really enthralling, but you know what's going on, and "The Song That Goes Like This," is the high point. The show doesn't really do anything all that surprising, but there are funny moments and it ends rather well, with the confrontation of the French.

Things took off early in the second act with the song "You won't succeed on Broadway (If you don't have any jews)". The piece was original, edgy and hillarious. This was the kind of Python I was hoping to see.

After that things picked up, the plot wondered through some rather Simpsonesque kinds of turns, and ended with everyone singing "Always look on the Bright Side of Life."

A good time was had by all. Except maybe the 12-year-old boy sitting in front of me, who kept a "This is Stoopid" look on his face the whole time.

UPDATE: My wife points out that this review comes across as too negative. She also points out the fact that I have almost no hair on my head.

Mainly she said I didn't get across the fun that the show was. So, let me add, the effects were great, and I really enjoyed the choreography, mainly done by women who were not wearing authentic wear for the middle ages. I really even considered buying a souvenier program for bit.

It's fun, trust me.

Bad ways to begin a job application cover letter

(As if it’s been on my mind lately or something)

• "AWESOME!" That’s what you will say when you read my experience summary.

  Let me begin by referring to my favorite Dukes of Hazard episode ...

  Dear Mr(s). XXXXXX, I am interested in the position of (whatever) that I found while going through several thousand web sites during commercials breaks of "Tyra." She’s really looking good, lately.

  Sorry about the jelly stain.

  Orange flavored spots of tiny dynamite! Boom! Leprechaun aliens in blue space suits -- Duck little monkeys! Swim!

  Please insert accompanying DVD for a video introduction to me.

Pictures of dogs swimming in Hico

Kind of sad, because I was trying to get some shots that illustrated the flood.

But our farm hasn't been hit too hard. Obviously, everything's soaked, the Bosque is way up, and the tanks are overflowing. Still, no big damage.

The Paddling Ginger, with Jimbo in Repose

A bullet Jimbo, or perhaps a swimming vermin

Ginger sees wildlife to mangle

Those were the best I could do with flood shots. Basically, all those places where you see water don't usually have water.

Here's one more disaster shot. Tho I think it collapsed during a thunderstorm in 1974.

Calling it

The Rangers are actually going to have a decent second half of the season.

Reality, Texas

VmarksTheSpot pointed to an item at the end of the Anchorwoman article about the upcoming Ty Murray's Celebrity Bull Riding Challenge, to appear on CMT later this year. For those who don't know/care, Ty Murray lives in Stephenville, about 20 miles north of Hico.

This is Stephenville's second reality TV show. Last year, the fashion channel (or someone) made a Beverly Hills hairdresser and a Stephenville barber trade places and filmed the hilarious* results. I attribute Stephenville's ability to attract reality TV shows to the fact that the town has a big fiberglass cow overlooking the town square. Trust me, you want to attract reality TV producers who are looking for a place where people yell "Yeehew", just put a big fiberglass cow next to the courthouse -- they'll come a-runnin'.

So, just counting off the top of my head here: We're filming "Anchorwoman", Jewel's husband's show, another newsroom show -- based in Odessa, Disney is filming some D/FW high schools putting together High School Musical, and earlier we had the hair dresser thing.

The nation must have an insatiable appetite for people who can make "Yup" a three-syllable word.

*Not actually hilarious.

Notes:

• Returned this weekend from a trip to Norman -- hungover and with a scratch on my forehead of a non-remembered origin. Such is the reason God made Oklahoma.
• Went to a Blue grass concert at the Fort Worth Botanical Gardens on Sunday night. The band was called "Billy and the Hillbillies." Now, I can understand the need to tailor your content towards a family kind of crowd. I don't understand the need to dance around like Don Knotts in drag and constantly make bad jokes like, "If I divorce my wife, is she still my sister?"* At the end, I realized they could have fit at least four more songs in had they just shut up for five freakin' minutes.

*To tell the truth, I liked that one.

Tasteless headline alert

This headline was at the top of an Associated Press story about Yi Jianlian, and his chances of being a star in the NBA:

"NBA's great leap forward: Yao to Yi"

As it came across the wire. Here's a quick summation of the original "Great leap forward" according to Wikipedia:

The Great Leap Forward is now widely seen, both within China and outside, as a major economic disaster, effectively being a "Great Leap Backward" that would affect China in the years to come. ... The official toll of excess deaths recorded in China for the years of the GLF is 14 million, but scholars have estimated the number of famine victims to be between 20 and 43 million. The three years between 1959 and 1962 were known as the "Three Bitter Years" ... Many local officials were tried and publicly executed for giving out misinformation.

So, while they're at it, I'd like to propose a few heads for the AP to keep on file:

• Germany creates Master Plan to put women's tennis on top
• Cleveland Indians follow 'Trail of Cheers' to pennant win
  

Thanks.

Not so much May-December as March-Mid-July

Coach, 40, marries track student, 16.

So, the feelings I will not comment on here are the ones that make me stare extra-long at women in comic books.

The feelings I will comment on are the ones that come with almost being a parent, and obviously knowing how easy it’s all going to be.

I don’t get these parents. After learning their daughter is doing is doing the hurtler stretch with the coach, they go to the school, they go to the police, they go to the courts, and then, THEY STILL SIGN THE CONSENT LETTER ALLOWING AN UNDERAGE MARRIAGE.

"Signing those consent forms was the hardest thing I did in my whole life,
but we had to move on, it was going to kill us all," Dennis said.

Uh-huh. Move on from the bad times when your daughter’s going around your back to hump the track coach to the good times when they're coming over for Thanksgiving to discuss her prom dress and his bunions.

I call shenanigans. You can always go farther. Most parents have the legal to institutionalize their kids if they have too, which you have to do if they are really “throwing their life away” as Mama says.

Anchorwoman (Hot)

The story in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram today deals with the problems when reality TV mixes with TV news (no, there is no difference, but I'm not there yet).

I'm sure the producers at Fox TV are mainly interested in the problems arising when a woman working the 5 p.m. anchor desk in Tyler, Texas, looks like this:

Stolen from Lauren Jones' web site.

I heard the original idea of the show was to film at a New York newspaper, which worked until the producers realized how newspaper people can reach amazing heights of ugly. (I'm speaking mostly of the men, who generally could turn a hot dog rancid just by looking at it. The women in most newsrooms can hold their own, tho you usually have one or two medusas.)

Anyway, the decision was made to move the show to TV, and of course, it had to be in Texas. The existence of Anchorwoman has caused much umbrage -- from journalism scholars (Ha!) to the people who work at the station, to the townspeople of Tyler, who worry they'll be depicted as bumpkins.

Three reasons why I think this thing is a bit of harmless piffle*:

Is it really that serious to have a guest worker with no experience in a news business?

No, it isn't. TV newscasts and newspapers have such people come and work for them all the time, only they're called "interns." In the past, interns and their exploits have served to humor only news professionals**. Now, the entertainment value is being brought to a grateful nation. Besides, Jones claims that she really really wants to be an anchorwoman, like "Ryan Seacrest," in my favorite quote from the story.

But what about our integrity? Our honor?

I once saw a newscast led with a story about how Sonic was serving a drink called "The Orgasm" (Outrage!), only the drink was called something else on the menu. It's just that the 16 year old girl working the counter knew what you were asking for when you asked for an orgasm (giggle). That got two minutes on the air.

Personally, I've long felt that the face we present to the public regarding our integrity and honor sets the wrong tone. Anytime something about ethics pops up, we find a couple of scolds to prattle on like a preacher out of the Scarlet Letter. The fact of the matter is that if we didn't take ourselves so honkin' seriously, we'd have some of that trust we keep talking about losing.

Honesty: "Yes, having a model on the air is publicity stunt. Yes, some things are going to go over the top, but no, we're not going to lie to you." I think that pretty much sums it up. Instead, we have people from the Society of Professional Journalists going on about how Jones doesn't have a fourth level Anchor certification and is -2 on her ability to detect falsehoods.

Tyler is the center of a proud East Texas protoculture and must not be humiliated.

I realize that, two hours from Manhattan, you can find people dancing with rattlesnakes and screaming for Gaw-Duh to keep them from getting bitten. But, no one on the East or West coast is willing to think of themselves this way, so they go to Texas.

"Texas" is just too easy a billboard to start with, and so what? The fact of the matter is we have a lot of trailer parks, a lot of people who say "I seen," and a lot of people who are still having flashbacks to the battle of Shiloh. Embrace it (the good parts, anyway).

The same Texans going on and on about how we're seen as a bunch of jackhole stereotypes by northeasterners are the also the first to say that they don't like Northeastern culture and don't want it here. So let'em think what they want. We still produce a huge number of artists, thinkers and business people who always end up on the top of their game.

*I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever written the word "piffle." Hooray.

** There's still a story going around Texas about the intern who told her city editor she'd do "anything" for better story assignments. It's not true, by the way.

Flooding near here.

Damn, you turn on the radio and find out that half the area is flooding. Strange day. We've spent our time doing what we normally do, but you have to worry about those people going through this disaster.

News that reflects me

Got a random e-mail on Friday. (I like random e-mail on the blog. So far, I've got two, and one of them ended with me getting a free DVD set of WKRP in Cincinnatti. )

It was from an Alex Smith of Albany, New York. Smith runs a health blog and uses some kind of doo-dad to collect news headlines related to the site, and post them down the left column.

Hence, a web site on fighting fat posts an article on Chow Yun-Fat fighting censorship in China. (Kidding, it also seems to have some good info.)

So, the suggestion was to install the news search on mine. Personally, I don't know if this is one guy or some front for guerilla marketing, and I don't care so long as it works.

Anyway, thanks to Alex (or to the good people at Acme news search).

First, tho, I need to compile a list of search words that reflect what this blog is all about. Here's what I've got so far:

• Dogs
• Beer
• Texas Tech
• Whiskey
• Metrosexual bliss
• Steamed pudding

I was thinking about "Texas" but it's too broad a topic and people might get tired of me rambling on about Muleshoe. Or maybe that's why they come here. Anyway it's too broad a topic.

As always, feel free to make suggestions.

Fantastic

VMarksTheSpot sent me Stephen Hunter's review of the latest Fantastic Four movie, tho it doesn't review the flick so much as provide a caption for this:

Hunter -- All in all, there is no all, there is no there, there is no is.

Dude, really, it can't be that bad. It has Jessica Alba playing a blonde girl.


My wife Netflixed the original Fantastic Four, and said she enjoyed it, and we talked about how all the bad reviews had lowered expectations so much that it was hard not to enjoy the movie.


Basically, so long as Fantastic Four 1 wasn't four hours of Michael Chiklis trying to pick his nose through a rubber suit, it would have beaten the expectations people had for it. I get the feeling part II may be the same way.


And I'm thinking Hunter might need some rest. The other week he went to Pirates of the Caribbean III and couldn't stop gushing about how much fun it was.


Stay with us, Hunter ... Stay With Us.


On another note:

Anyone else getting bored with news sites putting so many links in their copy that it screws up the flow? Something everyone learned in graphics school: Underlining and putting copy in a different color is the same as all-caps and exclamation points. In Hunter's review, the Post puts in links in to JOHN WAYNE!, ENGLAND! and IOWA! among others. It's the reading equivalent of driving down a street and seeing a major accident every five seconds. Honestly, Mr. Washington Post, I can google or dog pile. I don't need the help.

*Sorry about the formatting, but I can't figure it out and I need to get to work.

Headline

Spears asks fans to name her new album

In related news:

Lohan asks fans to pick next disease.

And

Hilton asks cell block to name her either "blondie" or "Li'l' Cheese."

Everyone will jump on this, just had to get my shots in.

Geographical drinking games

Here's a chart in "The Economist" that shows drinking per capita*.

I don't believe it, as Russia does not make the top five. How the hell does that happen? The country exports vodka, brides, and vodka-soaked brides, and yet somehow they get beat by Czecho-whatever-it-is?

UPDATE: On second thought, I really don't have anything against the Russians. Putin's just kind of been making me crazy.

I also don't believe there is a country called Moldova, and think they're making it up.

*Good stuff from Todd TM

The Pud'n Adventure

A cooking story with illustrations.

So, I've made brownies from scratch. Pie with homemade crusts. Cake with with this greasy, plastic-looking icing. And, after putting together a quite masculine and tasty bread pudding, I was beginning to wonder about the more exotic desserts in my wife's cookbook (Betty Crocker, circa 1970).

It was at this time that I stumbled across a recipe called "Steamed Molasses Pudding."

Hmmm ... "Steamed MOE-lasses Pudding. Sounds very interesting and Marlboro-Man like. And the sauce calls for whiskey."

I already had the ingredients, except for the whiskey, a situation I rectified by buying about 200 times more than the teaspoon the recipe calls for.

Things ground to a halt when the instructions told me to "pour batter into a four-cup mold." Never heard of a four-cup mold. I imagined it had something to do with jello, but that didn't make sense.

So I went to Linens n things. Bed Bath and Beyond. Williams and Sonoma. The gun section of Academy Sporting Goods. Nothing. No one knew what I was talking about. I was becoming obsessed, in a way that has nothing to do with the displaced mania of being three months away from baby time and having no idea what's gonna happen with the job situation.

What was Betty Crocker thinking (circa 1970)?

I finally turned to E-Bay and found out that, while four-cup pudding molds were all the rage in the 1970s, they aren't dominating the marketplace today. I stumbled across one while in an antique shop. Here's what a four-cup mold looks like (circa 1970):

I bought it, with a full feeling of relief. It was at this point that my wife noted it looked like it was fully made of copper, that copper corrodes in water and that there was "No way I'm going to put metal into my bloodstream ... NO," she said, while looking into the pantry.

Or maybe not, but I had this picture.

Back to the search. I finally gave in and googled it. It led me here.

I went to the link for King Arthur flour. It's my favorite as the package has a knight brandishing a sword. The product was described:

Pudding Mold - Quart
For moist, rich, old-fashioned desserts and bread

• Holds 1 quart (4 cups) batter

Bingo. Didn't have a picture, so I took a leap of faith and ordered. (Total cost $15 or so.)

One week later, the little package of steamed joy arrived:

Though the package wasn't that little. Here's the box it came from.

They had room to smuggle a couple of sheep dog puppies in there.

Not to go too far into the technical details: I proceeded to make the batter, put it in the mold, and boil it. Here's the final result.


Tasty. Next time I probably won't go with molasses. The sauce, however, is pretty good by itself.

Angry statement, Tuesday

Brought to my attention by Todd ...

Despite the near-unanimous opposition in the state legislature to the use of speed cameras, the Texas Department of Transportation (TxDOT) is moving forward on a proposal to deploy photo radar on state highways using federal gas tax funds. Legislation awaiting Governor Rick Perry's signature prohibited only municipalities -- like Marble Falls and Rhome -- from installing automated speeding ticket systems.

Time-distance ticketing systems use multiple cameras spaced far apart on a freeway. Each car is photographed once as it enters the first section of road. Miles later a second photograph is taken that allows the vehicle's average speed to be calculated from the time it took to travel between the two locations.

Todd adds: "It makes me want to move to Vegas to pursue a career in poker even more. I hope Perry doesn't sign the bill....no, I PRAY he doesn't."

(I left out the cussing.)

And I'll back up the opposition. The problem is that it isn't about safety. The main thing they want to emphasize is the fact that the cameras bring in the money. People pretty much like the way the state patrols the highways now. You can go a little over the speed limit if you don't want a ticket, a lot if you decide not to care.

The machines will send you a ticket if you're so much as THREE MILES OVER the limit.

And one of the testing areas will be on highway 6, which of course, goes through Hico.

I call shenanigans. The fact of the matter is that speeding does not cause accidents. Driving around in an old pickup with an angry dog and drunk girlfriend, yelling "Yahoo! Yahoo!" and shooting bullets through the cab ceiling causes accidents. I think we all know that.

The communists are winning.

Rahr beer -- Give it a shot

Just saying, good stuff.

When the brewery started business in Fort Worth, they had volunteers working at the factory.

Like Bueno Heads, only with dignity and a sense of self-worth.

I'm currently working my way down the offerings. Just finished off a pack of the amber. The blonde lager is the best I've ever had. And I don't exaggerate about beer.

UPDATE: Wow. I went to the web site as far as finding locations where you can buy it, and they only list wholesalers. So, if you don't need a truckload, I've generally found the beer at Central Market and Majestic Liquors. I recall seeing it for sale in Abilene, so it's probably all over the place.

UPDATE II: I gotta say I think it's the best widely distributed Texas beer I've had. I have a deep affection for Shiner, and I don't want to bring up the whole Lone Star thing again, so I'll just say this is my favorite beer right now.

Parental outrage moment

I should first say that there is no way anyone will ever top the fire-fighting doggie.

A story in the ContraCosta Times focuses on a new trend in baby T-shirts:

Among them: onesies that proclaim your offspring a "Playground Pimp," "Bad Ass" or "Boob Man"; long-sleeved tees that promise "Someday, I'll get trashed at prom"; and T-shirts that trumpet your newborn's admiration for Charles Bukowski, the alcoholic counter-culture writer, which includes a picture of him drinking from a flask.

Other messages include: "He thinks he's my daddy" and "Mama drinks because I cry".

Maybe it's the first episode of me losing my sense of humor because of parental feelings, but I also gotta admit I've always been sickened by some people's tendency to use their children the same way Carrot Top uses props. They're humans, they aren't billboards for your jokes or another way to express yourself. They're going to have enough trouble figuring out how to express themselves, they don't need to deal with your overwrought need to show your rage against the machine.

Sick bastards. (Also available.)

The most brilliant insight into sports coverage I've read this decade

And the decade's getting close to done.

Jeff Pearlman of ESPN.com, after Gary Sheffield made his "Black people are disappearing in baseball because Latinos are easier to handle" comment, and the responding vapors being had by the reporters who got him to say it in the first place:

"This is how it's worked in the sports media for eons: We bitch and moan that players are little more than mantra-spewing robots. We long for a guy who'll speak his mind. We find a guy who speaks his mind. We rush toward him. He speaks his mind. He's a dangerous moron who says inane things like, "Where I'm from, you can't control us" and "If you're equally good as this Latin player, guess who's going to get sent home?" We excitedly work our butts off to try to coerce him to say even more inane things (Oldest trick of the trade: Start with softball questions, transition slyly into the hard stuff). He does. Then we hang him."

Of course, he prefaces this with a whole lot of "I know Sheffield, and Sheffield is a moron" statements, which is more than likely true.

I can now only wish someone will note that we cover politics in the same way -- only those people are less moronic and more slimeball.

At the graduation of A&M Consolidated High School, 2007

Relation: Second-oldest nephew

Start time 7 p.m., Texas A&M University coliseum thing, College Station

6 p.m.: Graduate’s father shows up early, reserves chairs for family by placing cards on empty seats. Another parent plops herself down in the middle of the saved seats and refuses to move. Much vociferous conversation ensues.

6:45 p.m.: Family shows up. Witness arrival of a security guard called by the family behind us, also angry about the reserved seats. "I’m not messing with reserved seats stuff," he says, and walks away. Feeling lucky to possess what must be the most awesome seats in the world, we sit back and get ready for the ceremony.

6:58 p.m.: The welcome. Entire crowd responds with "Whoop!"
(Sheesh, Aggies.)

7:20 p.m.: We are 15 minutes into "Pomp and Circumstance" and the seats aren’t even a third full. Ho boy.

Highlights of the student speeches:

"We can’t wait to blow this town."

"As soon as you’re born, your future is in front of you for the rest of your life."

"It doesn’t make sense to us, and it doesn’t make sense to anyone else."

7:45 p.m.: The diploma-giving commences. The first to receive her diploma wears a head scarf and each part of her name starts with the letter "A". The world is changing. It used to be the Amy Andersons who were always the first in line. No more.

7:48 p.m.: I wonder what’ll happen to Acie Law in the NBA?

7:51 p.m.: We’re on the "Bs".

7:53 p.m.: I should stop looking at my watch.

Sometime after 8 p.m.: The first beach ball appears, an open act of rebellion against authority, cheered on by the class, and quickly joined by two other beach balls. Eventually picked up. Students warned by principal for the last time in their lives to behave.

8:30ish: About half the boys who get their diploma do a slow strut across the stage. Mixed feelings. Acting formal means you understand something big is happening, you’ll remember it as something important. On the other hand, I like the attitude, because I think it is cool.

8:45ish: Watch my nephew get his diploma. We take our allotted three seconds to clap and yell. He’s graduated with honors, has his college and college roommate picked out, and is otherwise the picture of happy calm. Nothing like me. I was a shell of anger and sarcasm over a whimpering 7-year-old girl.

8:50ish: Adults start to give their speeches. Snooooooze.

9 p.m.: There seems to be some confusion as to when to throw the cap. It’s after the school song, kiddoes. Always after.

9:15ish: We head home for cookies and a couple of beers.

Everybody thinks about what they’d say if they ever got the opportunity to give a commencement address. I’d just like to have the opportunity to respond to the speeches made:

Chances are you believe that this place, where your parents scratched out a living and did their best for you, is the most boring place on earth, populated with some of the stupidest people. I hope for your success, and I hope that it doesn’t take you too long to figure out that you can’t do much better than hang out with the friends you’ve made in College Station, Lubbock, Denton or whatever place you call home. Don’t drink and drive.

Alas poor Hico, for I knew thee well ...

Last weekend, Hico had its annual "Texas Steak Cookoff and Tourist Trap" event. Yes that's a joke.

The preview in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram started with the line:

"Face it. Hico is hot."

Dang it. My favorite place on earth is becoming cool to the Texas crowd. Fredericksburg cutesiness can't be far behind.

Pig debatin'

So I saw this at work today:

From AP

"Stone made news last week when the world learned of his massive kill, a 1,051-pound feral hog, which he shot eight times with a pistol on a hunting preserve in eastern Alabama. But the young man soon found himself in a media maelstrom when some Web sites questioned the veracity of the photographs."

And just to add to the conversation as this makes it's way around the internet: The boy was right in what he did do.


I'm not much for hunting. Don't like to see bunnies and doves go into their death shudder. But I don't have a problem with people who do. It usually turns into good eating.


My point here, though, is that shooting this sucker kind of transcends the normal ethics of hunting. I heard one girl at work mention that this hog took three hours to die, and it was most likely not a happy death.


On the other hand, something this big, out in the wild, is going to be a menace to everything around it. Imagine taking the dogs for a walk, and you run into one of these suckers. Do you think anyone's getting out of that one unscathed?


I therefore side for the killing of the giant pigs, with extreme prejudice.


Also, I like bacon.

Winner: Most random search award

I check my site counter every day for a couple of reasons:

• I'm a loser.
• It's cool to see who's stopping by.
• Who the hell do I know in Chicago?

The counter service I have keeps track of the searches that led people here. The photo I posted of Paris Hilton dragged in God knows how many people.

But most of the searches are pretty mundane -- "Hico journalist", "Hico newspaper" -- and stumbling in here probably does nothing but piss most people off.

My love of the Outfield keeps bringing folks in, I've had about a dozen hits from people who searched "i cant believe the things that happen to me".

But, on Tuesday, we had a visitor who came in after searching for... "Hico gas saw".

Hico. Gas. Saw. What is that? I could understand it if some dude in Hico was searching for power tools, but Hiconians avoid this site like the plague. I haven't even had traffic from towns close to Hico.

And when the hell did I write about Gas Saws in the Hamilton County area? *

Wierd.

*Yes, I realize I could google it. I'm not in the mood.

And otherwise...
Haven't had time to be active here for a while, so I've had a few posts stacking up in my head. Will have more in the near future.

RiffTrax: One of God's high quality gifts

For anyone out there who loved Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Rexmous posted about RiffTrax earlier this month. The premise is -- well, there is no premise. Mike Nelson, head writer and eventual host of MST3K, has recorded MP3 files to go with movies. You play the files in synch with the movies, and proceed to laugh, if you have any kind of sense of humor whatsoever.

I put "Star Wars: Episode 1" at the top of my NetFlix queue, and had my first experience with it last night. Good stuff. The file consisted of Nelson and the guy who played servo the robot, basically doing the same thing they've always done and being funny about it.

In some ways, it's better than MST3K:

• Since they no longer have to buy royalties for movies, they can do whatever they want.
• The format gives them more freedom than they had with the old show, where they had to keep up the premise of Mike stranded in space with his robots, and shoe everthing into the same time format.

It's not perfect either. You can tell the guys don't have the same kind of support they used to have. 87 jokes about Jar Jar sucking your will to live is a bit much -- especially considering we all knew the character was a somewhat lacking, a somewhat racist, a somewhat huge sign of George Lucas refusing to care anymore, back in the last millenium.

And you can imagine that keeping a movie and accompanying MP3 file synchronized can be annoying. The MP3 kept getting ahead of the movie soundtrack, so I'd have to pause it every now and then to let the movie catch up.

They do have audio cues on the track to help you keep things in synch. There's also a program you can download if you watch the movie on the computer. No idea if it works, but I'll probably give it a try.

And it wasn't that much of a problem anyway. The comedy was good enough that I didn't care about the minor technical difficulties.

Obviously, this stuff costs money, between $3 and $2. Yeah, that'll be a huge to burden to all y'all, but do your best to cope.

I don't really have a "thumbs up" kind of slogan to sign off with here. So ... it's good. hooray.

Links

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Ughh

Haven't posted or done much of anything of value lately. I haven't posted here. The room my wife allows me to do my man stuff in is a pile of unpicked up clothes. I feel like the blob, if only the blob had been a passive monster who liked watching World War II movies while drinking milkshakes.

Anyway. I have crossed a threshold. The Last Pair of Pants is now tight. It is time to commence The Losing of Weight.*

*I Like Capital Letters. It's a Shame No Newspaper In America Uses Upstyle In It's Headlines Any More.

Good things from Todd...

I've been way freaking behind getting stuff out lately, but here's some good things from Todd ...

"I contend that this website can make just about any US citizen feel good about their financial position. http://www.globalrichlist.com/ "

And a site for people who can enjoy a life of minimalism (It once was me, alas, alas, for sooth). http://www.resourcesforlife.com/groups/smallhousesociety/
Also for people who need some place to put their really big stuffed animals.

And now for a word from our sponsor ...

Folks:
This the second most random thing that's happened with this blog, right after the lady who popped up to defend Ricky Williams.
About a week ago, I got an e-mail asking if I would review the DVD release of the first season of WKRP in Cincinnati. I thought it was bogus, but gave them my work address ... and the DVD set showed up today.
I've been contacted by an online marketing campaign. They specialize in building networks of fans to get the word out. (Here's an article that makes them seem evil.)
I realize this could bring up some integrity concerns for some of you, but:

• You really don't care, and,
• I remain pure as the driven snow.

I'll be happy to explain why to anyone who wants to ask.
In the meantime, this "viral" campaign receives the News From Hico Official Seal of Approval.
It seems innocuous to me. You send material to interested people, and then ask them to write about it.
I'm looking forward to watching and doing some research on the show, one of my favorites from a long time ago.
And since this song has been banging around in my head for a week now, I'll give it to you ...

Williams, busted

From the Associated Press:

"MIAMI - Former NFL rushing champion Ricky Williams tested positive again for marijuana last month, which will delay his return to the league until at least September, a person familiar with the case said Friday. Williams sought to end a one-year drug suspension last month when he asked to rejoin the Miami Dolphins."

Here are some other things Williams is positive about:

• Dolphin-shaped clouds that rain Doritos.
• Dennis Kucinich's chances in the Democratic primary
• Yoga with Ron Artest.
• A football covered with pink cotton candy.
• Teal.
• Whatever major national holiday happens next.

No, I have nothing against Ricky Williams, and I think marijuana should be legalized. Still, the man has an epic passion for weed.

More Tech stuff

This broke Wednesday. But I'm posting it late because none of you care anyway.

Cowboys' owner Jerry Jones visited Lubbock this week to pitch an annual Texas Tech/Oklahoma State game at the new Cowboys stadium, an idea I like. Last week, the news broke that the City of Dallas was after the game, to be played in the Cotton Bowl, which I didn't like.

"The message was clear: If Tech is going to play Oklahoma State or anyone else in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, forget the Cotton Bowl. Mr. Jones wants the game in Arlington.
Mr. Jones did not initiate specific negotiations to move any Tech home game from Jones AT&T Stadium to Arlington, athletic director Gerald Myers said. But Mr. Jones' move got Tech officials thinking, and Dallas Mayor Laura Miller is practically steaming."

The primary problem with playing in the Cotton Bowl is that you're only seen as the warm-up band to Texas/OU. The Great White to White Snake.

Playing in the new stadium, though, doesn't sound that bad. It's a different venue, so people wouldn't have to be constantly reminded that they Bevo and that little wagon thingy aren't in attendance. They'd get their own showcase, their own game. Plus, it pisses the City of Dallas off.

Also of interest: The fact that Tech is talking about this has some Aggie fans a little ansy. The A&M athletic director addressed this on the department's web site.

"I've heard from a number of you about articles you have read regarding a proposal by Oklahoma State and Texas Tech to move their annual Big 12 football game to the Cotton Bowl," Byrne wrote. "What set most of you comic-book readin', LegoLand collectin' gigs* off were quotes from OSU folks talking about the recruiting advantage they would gain in the Metroplex."

All this info is from the Dallas Morning News. The Lubbock paper has some kind of weird registration thing that won't allow me to view it, even after I've registered about six times. So I don't know what they've done.

*I made that up.

By the way ...

The wife. She's pregnant.


UPDATE: OK, to stop being a jerkface ...

• When: The baby is due in September.
• What: It's a boy, we've named him Sam.
• Are we ready: Well, the other day we discussed the fact that we had clothes and had picked out the furniture, so "that's good for now." There are times you can hear God laughing.
• Other thoughts: We don't consider Sam to be a "junior" kind of situation, as I've never gone by that name, except in college when I got tired of teaching professors my nickname. I've always liked the name, and it hacks me off that it happens to be popular right now. ... Sam himself has tested healthy in every way, and Mer says that he has really started to explore the studio space.

Actual news from Hico

On my latest trip, I had a chance to peruse the mid-April edition of the Hico News-Review:

• For the third time in three years, proponents of a rule allowing the sale of alcohol in town (more or less) have successfully put the issue on the ballot. I was made aware of this by the appearance of three letters to the editor, all in opposition. No letters appeared in support. This is because anyone who did write a pro-beer letter can expect to called out on Sunday in front of the the Baptist or Church of Christ congregations. I don't want to think about what the Seventh-Day Adventists would do.
• Putty was trampled by a bull last month and is in recovery. We all wish him well.
• The Hico track and field team won a district championship. Coverage includes a picture of a hurdler who won gold, despite the fact that she jumps with both of her hands above her head.
• The editor of the paper broke a six-week stint (more or less) of writing columns that consisted of: "Sorry folks, too busy to put a column together this week." (His picture and by-line were still included.) His broke his silence to talk about Putty, and wishing him well.
• This is why I want to live there.

In defense of Paris

Nothing to add.

I can't think of anything better than the dumb and diseased jokes already out there.

You have to admit she's a societal phenomenom -- when everything on the subject out of everyone's mouth is already a cliche before it hits your ears.

On second thought, I'll add that I'm not dismissively appalled by the Paris Hilton story.

Earlier this year, the Associated Press decided to go a week without doing a Paris Hilton story. The word eventually got out, and the AP then wrote a self-serving story congratulating themselves on their attempt to give us less Paris Hilton.

Because, you know, we can't be trusted with information on Paris Hilton. There are too many people out there who might take the Paris Hilton story and try to be billionaire heiresses with a sex drive permanently at the Vulcan seven-year peak level.

Nah. The story has a barometric importance. Everyone needs points of comparison to figure out who they are.

Paris Hilton is a combination of characteristics so far out on the edges of the bell curve that she's at a point for which 99.9999 percent of us have no reference. She's like a Niagara Falls of money, fame and sexual recklessness that we can only gawk at behind railings.

So I don't mind the occasional Hilton update. She doesn't get preachy, or is laughably inept when she tries. She only wreaks havoc on the lives of the people who follow her around, not the general populace.

I don't get any feeling whatsoever regarding her latest advertising deal or the latest trip to the slammer. Hilton is just an odd, horse-faced sign that pops up every now and then on my television screen to remind me of how bad things can get if I make the wrong decisions.

Which is more than can be said of most celebrities.

Tech, Oklahoma State game may move to Cotton Bowl

According to the Dallas Morning News.

Tech's athletic department has been talking about doing this for years. The underlying idea is to get a game in front of the Dallas recruiting market, but I always thought it was a bad plan.

Everyone already knows Tech plays second fiddle to Texas, there's no reason to emphasize this by staging a warm-up to the real Texas-OU contest at the State Fair.

There are plenty of colleges (Nebraska, anything in Iowa) that draw plenty of attention without making a traveling circus of themselves. Instead, you give up a home game and have to worry about whether or not you'll even be able to sell out the stadium.

Someone at work remarked that this also takes away from the "greatness that is Texas-OU."

I have to admit I don't care so much about that.

On the other hand, I have a legitimate shot of seeing a Texas Tech game in person in the distant future. So it's not all bad.

First video post

Only took me 18 months to get to this point.

Took this from another site, but I figured this would be a decent first video embed for here.



I cried for two hours the first time I watched it.

Link to links on the video here. Of course, I got there through another link that I'm not going to share. Such is the way I roll.

A very small political observation

The focus right now on the presidential race is too early and can only to screw things up even more.

I'm a political junkie, but I don't really want to give the race more than a passing thought until October. Really, 12 months is a good enough amount of time to make this decision. Now, I can't go to a blog or newscast without hearing poll results and seeing campaign appearances.

The only people who really care right now are the party members, and they don't have the same priorities as normal people.

Meanwhile, the candidates' are just giving us the typical meaningless drivel, breathlessly reported upon like it was something interesting. People are only going to get tired. I'm tired. And tune it all out before the voting even starts.

I liked the old timing. The worst thing about Iowa going first was an umpteen-billion dollar subsidy for ethanol that isn't worth a crap.

We could do worse. I shudder in horror at what the candidates will be promising California.

A small Katie awards update

Latest story on the ongoing hoohah involving Texas' most honorable press awards.

Main fact I find interesting: The event has apparently been bogus since 2003. Three years of a the lying lady in a professional journalist society playing bingo with industrial awards, and no one noticed.

Was anybody actually reading the winning entries?

(I'm laughing now.)

Liveblogging the draft ...

Twenty-nine picks in and no one's taken placekicker Mason Crosby. I can't imagine what the Jets were thinking.

Idiots.

And that will be all.

Notes ... Willie and the horse

I've been lax in passing on some jokes lately, so from John ...

Drunken man parks horse in bank foyer
BERLIN - An early-morning bank customer had a bit of a shock when he found a horse at the automatic teller machine.
The horse's owner, identified only as Wolfgang H., had a bit too much to drink the night before and decided to sleep it off inside the bank's heated foyer, police said Tuesday.
The 40-year-old machinist told Bild newspaper he had had "a few beers" with a friend in Wiesenburg, southwest of Berlin, and decided to hit the hay in the bank on his way home.
Confronted with the lack of a hitching-post, he brought the 6-year-old horse, named Sammy, in with him.
When a customer came across the horse and sleeping rider in the bank at 4:15 a.m. Monday, he called police, who then came and woke the owner up and sent him on his way.
No charges were filed, but there might be some cleanup needed: Apparently Sammy made his own after-hours deposit on the carpet.

Let's talk about our Willie:


The Great Nelson has been in the news, mainly for getting caught with marijuana. Again. He will get no jail time. Damn straight. A nation glanced up at this kabuki theater with a western soundtrack and went back to its Doritos.

What's more interesting is this bit from Dave, that this year's Fourth of July picnic will NOT BE HELD WITHIN THE STATE OF TEXAS. Somebody needs to take a close look at Willie. Underneath the grizzle is the goatie of his evil twin.

Back to camp:

I haven't written much about the backpacking trip last weekend, mainly because it went so well, and the good times are never as interesting as the bad. (For a look at the bad times, check this post out.)

But to review:

• We went to Caprock Canyons State Park. It's near Quitaquay.


• The hike to camp was all of one mile.


• I successfully put my hand in a cactus.


• Boy Scouts don't look as bad-ass when you're 35.


• We broke camp because storms were a-comin'.


• They a'came about the time we made it back to the car.


• We spent the night at a cheap hotel in Childress, drinking whiskey, listening to rain, and watching the "World's Strongest Man" competition on ESPN.


• This is perhaps the most successful campout I've ever had.

Here's one more picture. Our camp was the white dot in the lower right corner.