It's fun to see big editors blast each other

Kind of like watching two battleships go at it from a row boat's vantage point.

Anyway: The link shows how the state editor at the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette decided not to go quietly, dropping along a few f-bombs, sexism complaints and so on in her goodbye note, which is then answered by another editor, who blows her off.

I've visited the Democrat-Gazette a couple of times, but the only thing I remember about it was that it seemed to be a lively place.

Tri-weekly baby picture update

A couple of shots from Sam, who has entered the overalls and rides-in-the-stroller-without-the-baby-seat phase. And has a serious side.

A-J sports editor leaving

Huh. Just heard that Lubbock Avalanche-Journal sports editor Patrick Gonzales has accepted a position as assistant sports editor in Detroit.

Patrick's a good guy. I crashed on his couch a few times in Abilene when I was having heating issues with my house.

Can't find an announcement anywhere. Best of of luck to him.

Neat-o

The reason Stradivariusesses are the best violins.

Quick links

Going around the internet this morning:

Weird stuff about your favorite toys. This is great info to have at a party after everyone's had two beers and starts talking about their childhood.

The Bible, as done by Lego. Several hundred illustrations. Handy as a Cliff Notes for Sunday school.

Texas Monthly: Of Lajitas and the steak whisperer

It's fun to nitpick Texas Monthly: It attempts to mix the fashion consciousness of Vanity Fair with the Texnicity of your cowhand grandpa, often with some weird results.

But two articles in the December edition are definitely worth reading.

One details the rise and fall of the big time resort at Lajitas, as envisioned by big rich guy Steve Smith. Smith made his fortune in Austin, bought Lajitas on a whim, then decided to make a destination spot for the rich and famous. Not that anyone famous ever showed up to pay $33 for a breakfast of coffee, orange juice, fruit and Special K.

The story goes into the amazing stupidity of the entire project on many levels: People not understanding that a brutal desert may not be the best place for championship golf course, resort executives dumb enough to insult a waitress' honor in close-knit Terlingua, turning the local convenience store and gathering place into a knick-knack shop with a coffee bar.

Definitely a good read. The Lajitas story hits a nerve with people. I'll even occasionally get a hit on the post I wrote after hearing of the resort's bankruptcy last year.

Also of interest: Steak.

The magazine lists the best (?) Texas steak restaurants.*

I don't have much of dog in this fight (I wonder how long we'll be able to say that?). Steak is expensive, and I'm happy to eat it once a month off of the Foreman grill, tho I am starting to experiment with marinades.

Still, it's pleasant to see that the Perini Ranch in Buffalo Gap was named No. 3, after a couple of metropolitan-type restaurants I have no interest in going to.

Perini's is easily my favorite steak place: It's basically just a bunch of buildings on an old family ranch converted into a restaurant. The recipes are highly original, yet familiar, and the service is friendly. They aren't putting on airs just because Robert Duvall stops by every chance he gets.

And the story even mentions the Hico Steak Cookoff, via a list of tips from a two-time champion who claims the steak "talks" to him.

*TM does a good job of showing our priorities. The steak article got the cover, the story on the best schools in the state got a small stamp on the cover.

Beware the attic

While checking our attic recently for dead rats, I came across a mostly empty cardboard box that contained a couple of plastic jack-o'-lanterns and this:

My wife was scared of what I might write here, but I have just a few thoughts:

• You'd think, when moving, that packing ALL your S&M gear would be a priority.
• The peacock feathers on the crotch of the leather-thong jockstrap -- nice touch.
• Some of you may be slightly titillated. All I can think about? The people in this house before us consisted of two middle-aged chunky dudes who kept about 15 cats.
• At least I don't have to worry about my Halloween costume this year.

Good Knight, night

The news that Bobby Knight was resigning made me want to talk to someone, and I had ESPN on all day at work. It's interesting -- I got a call from a friend who had just seen the story at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal web site, before anyone else had it. It was interesting to watch it blow up.

I thought I would have something lengthy to say about Knight, but I don't. He did good things for Tech, he's a complex guy who scares the hell out of most of the people he comes across. I'm sad. I listened to Knight being lionized, I listened to the usual scorn heaped upon Texas Tech.

But all of these things had been covered by ESPN and sports radio by the time I got home*. Even the headline for this post has probably been used 800,000 times in the last 30 years. So, no reason to join this conversation.

It's over. Good luck to Pat.

*Actually, one thing I didn't hear discussed was how much his personna, or the perception of it, was influenced by the movie "Patton." It's obvious that the character Scott created, not necessarily the actual Patton, was the basis for the way the public interpreted "The General." I think.

Super

To be honest, I was surprised by the outcome of the game. I, like every other person, thought the Pats would win. I thought, and think, that all the sports pundits picking the Giants had more to do with them wanting to see New England go down.

But I don't see it as the greatest shocker ever. New England had limped through the playoffs. The Giants were on a roll and just kept getting better. I was thinking close game going in.

And the game was boring until the final 10 minutes. Then it was pretty good. At Scott's mighty Super Bowl party, it was funny. Everyone talked during the game, then got quiet to watch the commercials.

My favorite was the one with the animals screaming.

And, for a nice little cap on the season. The video below wasn't posted originally because I thought everyone had already seen it. Just in case you haven't, it was the funniest thing I saw last month. Go Raiders.

Salty subtitle warning.

Roll on

Sam first figured out, sort of, how to roll more than a month ago. We encouraged him to do it more than the two times that he did, but he didn't seem interested, and one of the 937 books that Meredith has read on child rearing said it was OK -- if he was't interested you don't have to worry about it.

But, at his four-month checkup, our doctor advised that we go ahead and work on it. And a couple of days later:

Here's Sam on the floor. Here's Sam, deciding he wants to check out his copy of Baby's Ivanhoe.
And swing the arm around ...

And you have it.
He seems to have it down pretty well -- roll, grab toy, puke on toy, scream. Rolling is now his favorite thing to do, followed by eating and screaming. And he really loves to scream.

The only problem is that we now have to worry about this:

ESPN.Com does Wes Welker

Decent little story on my favorite player, save maybe Zach Thomas.

I was at Jones Stadium when Wes Welker set the NCAA record for punt returns for a touchdown.

Now with the Patriots, Welker's success has given a lot of hope to short stumpy white boys everywhere. Still, reading the story, you see how the family's devotion to the game borders on fanaticism. I imagine it'd take that kind of faith and determination for a guy like Welker to make it, but you worry about everyone else with the same faith that just isn't going to have that kind of success.

With the Super Bowl coming up, it's kind of hard to root for a team that is so obviously not the underdog and takes itself too seriously at the same time. But I'm rooting for them because of Welker, and he makes it a lot easier to do so.

Frozen chicken fire in Irving

Star-Telegram:

IRVING — A fire Thursday night destroyed dozens of packages of frozen chicken at Trinity Valley food. The fire started in a neighboring building and spread to the refrigerated building.

"Engine 13 reporting at scene ... And this disaster smells Deelicious."

Find your candidate

My wife sent me this:

The VaJoe.com Presidential Campaign calculator.

I went through it, the questions mostly seeming somewhat relevant. And my candidate is:

"Tom Tancredo"

WTF. Tancredo? I’m not voting for some fringe dude whose primary goal is to talk about illegal aliens, an issue I have mixed feelings about.

The quiz is useless without this question:

Would you vote for:

• Someone who saw a UFO on an acid trip with Shirley MacLaine?
• Someone who speaks incessantly of the gold standard and transmitters in our money?
• Someone on the fringety fringe of fringeness, who would not get elected even if a disaster of historic proportions managed to take out everyone else running for president?
• Someone within the ballpark of "normal," at least as far as politicians go?

Dropping in on Abilene

With addendum.

I don’t make it a habit to drop in on the Abilene Reporter-News web site, but sometimes I just get a feeling that I need to visit my old stomping grounds, and I’m usually not disappointed.

Today was no exception.

‘Girls Gone Wild’ event canceled after outcry

I wonder why the nightclub caved? Did the police threaten to arrest everyone within a city block? Was Joe Allen’s withholding barbecue privileges?

And they wonder why no one under 40 wants to live there. When GGW came to Denton and UNT, the Chamber of Commerce gave 'em the key to the city.*

*Kidding.

Addendum:
Me: So, you know I think Girls Gone Wild is a slimy organization that takes of advantage of women with esteem issues?

Wife: Yes.

Me: And they’re also a shoddy company. One of those places, that according to friends, you’d never want to have your credit card number.

Wife: Yes.

Me: And any dude who’s married and into that deserves to be skewered.

Wife: Uh-huh.

Me: I’m just sayin’, of all the places to turn it away, it’s Abilene. It’s like living up to your own cliche isn’t accidental so much as the purpose of your existence.

Wife: Yeah.

Me: That’s all.

Hard shot

Before Christmas, we ran this adorable photo of Sam for a greeting.

My wife said it took a lot of work. I was messing around, going through the shots on the camera today and saw just how much work.

Take this as a cautionary study into the photography of 3-month-olds.

My pizza hut of love

For my combined Christmas-birthday present this year, my wife gave me a pizza stone.


Ever since I quit working at Central Market, I've wanted to re-create the pizzas I made there. So far, I haven't come close. My crust is too chewy and the sauce is missing something key. Still, you can do pretty good things with stuff at home.


The stone's purpose is to absorb moisture and heat the crust evenly. Kind of like a brick oven panel for the typical oven.


This is the best one I've done so far.




No, pizza does not fit into the diet plan. Thanks for pointing that out.

Stephenville UFOs and other sightings

Brought to my attention by Alicia.

Actually, I wanted to write a little more on the Flippin deal and respond to Dave, but here's some junk that's been stuck in my mind recently.

"UFOs" "sighted" in Stephenville

Chamber of commerce shot.

Story here

For a tad of background, Stephenville is 20 miles north of Hico. I worked there while I was living in Hico. And I can say:

• No, I never saw one.
• Yes, the place has a drug problem like any small town.
• No, this isn't because of the drugs.
• And not because of any other small-town stereotypes you want to throw out there like a cow chip.

And I don't really have much in the way to make of jokes, because I don't believe in UFOs and making fun of it would be too easy.

I think that rural areas have more UFO sightings because the sky is clearer at night, you can see more stars, and therefore you see more planes and whatnot to report as UFOs. The weird part of the story (the original, the S-T has run this baby two days in a row) is the way everyone gives out estimated measurements of what they saw that just fly in the face of credibility.

One dude said that he saw the craft hovering "about 300 feet off the ground." Another dude said he saw a craft that was "about half a mile long."

Uh-huh. What made you think half-a-mile was the correct measurement there, Sparky? It looked bigger than Tarleton Memorial Stadium? You got some kind of aeronautical ruler that pops out of your thumb?

Anyway, no offense to the people who saw whatever the saw. I imagine they're telling the truth, but I can just think of about 10 other things off the top of my head that it might have been other than L. Ron Hubbard coming back.

Dog translator!

Dog translator! Awesome.

Though, I already know my dogs would say:

"Dude. You promised a real backyard and that we could kill the Evil Cat. Well? Well!? And thanks for the food. I love my ball."

Dumb advice
The MSN Hotmail login page always includes various feature stories on dating and work and fashion and dating. Generally the stories are lame, but I read one the other day that reached a new level of complete waste of space: 13 things not to share at work.

I read this because I thought they might have some juicy examples, and who knows, I might learn something. But, no examples. And here's some of the things that are off-limits:

• What people make
• What's going on with you health-wise
• Gossip
• Complaints about work
• How much you spent on that doo-dad or suit
• Your sex life
• Politics or religion
• Criticism of other people
• Your hangover
• Your personal life
• Your racist opinions

Wow, they really went out on a limb there, what with saying racism is bad as we near the 50th anniversary of the civil rights act.

And for the other stuff: Apparently, you should avoid talking to everyone at work as much as possible.

And once again, I'm well ahead of the curve.

Diet

Last week began the self-immolation of my own body fat, and it was a miserable three days. Right now I'm on break.

The perfect time to diet is when you’re unemployed. You set your schedule (around the boy’s naps) and it’s a lot easier to come up with distractions for the hunger when you’re not forced to sit at a desk for eight hours and think. And I can take naps more often.

I’ve started a fairly extreme regimen, one meal – breakfast – followed only by fruit snacks or maybe a salad for the rest of the day.

This all goes to pot when I have to work my two work shifts per week, but that won’t last long as they’ve hired my replacement.

Mainly what I’ve noticed about hunger is that it has a focusing effect. I wanted to work on the blog, but all I could think about was food. I thought about what I was having for breakfast the next day, and what kind of waffles I could come up with.

I thought about road trips and the possible eating stops.

I don’t know what day I’m going to the Fort Worth Stock Show, but I do know that it’s going to be splurge day and I’m going to have the Frito pie, a Stockyard cinnamon roll (described by the Star-Telegram as unadulterated sin) and perhaps a cowboy burrito.

Afterwards, I’ll die, with my heart going "pop" loud enough to cause a ruckus in the Goat Barn.

Wish me luck.

Flippin mad

Perry Flippin was a longtime columnist for the San Angelo Standard-Times. I read the first three paragraphs of many of his articles. (Sorry, I like San Angelo, but the guy was locally focused and I could never get into what he was talking about.)

I said "was" because he was recently fired for budgetary reasons, and in his final column, he chose to go out guns blazing. My wife brought this to my attention last week, but I forgot to get around to it. Then, when I got to work Sunday, I noticed it had made the rounds on the office e-mail.

He’s gotten a lot of "preach on, brother," praise from a lot of sources. My basic reaction: I respect anyone who goes out calling things like he sees him, but I don’t see anything as new information, and like most speaking-truth-to-power rants, it tends to leave a lot out.

So, as I drank way too much coffee today and need to burn off some energy, here are some excerpts from the column with my reactions. I’ve also been hearing people complain about this for a long time, so I’m letting some steam off myself.

Here’s a link to the whole column.

Excerpts in italics.

"Today, instead of serving primarily as watchdogs, we deliver entertainment fodder interspersed with glitzy ads for consumers. The newspaper's value is measured not by how well it reflects and elevates its community, but by how much money it makes.

I have always respected newspapers as truth-tellers, but we have studiously avoided disclosing just how profitable newspaper publishing is. For a clue, stroll through William Randolph Hearst's magnificent California castle, San Simeon."

Yes, the castle was built from the 1920s –’40s by a family who took truth-telling so seriously they bragged about starting the Spanish-American war on over-hyped and probably incorrect information. Anybody building a castle lately?

I’m doubtful of anyone who tells me that a newspaper was once judged by "how well it reflects and elevates its community," especially after bringing up the Hearst papers as a model.

Kind of like your Mom and Dad telling you about how sex never happened outside of marriage back in the day. Everyone just got married by 21 and babies tended to arrive about six months later.

Rule of life, No. 47: Someday, when you are older, you will probably want to project your loss of innocence onto society as a whole. Don’t do that.

"Publishers sold their souls on the notion that only the immediate bottom line matters. I believe newspapers are slowly committing suicide to satisfy corporate moguls and grasping stockholders.

How do CEOs earn fat bonuses? In part, by putting loyal and talented employees such as me on the street.
...
Yet the salvation of newspapers may come only when Wall Street gets out of the news biz and puts presses back in the hands of private owners - as it was before this roller coaster ride began."

He’s dead-on about corporations bleeding newspapers dry, cutting their best people and refusing to hire and train the next generation.

Still, the real question is why. If the primary motivation is greed, and you have smart business-type people running these corporations, why run these businesses into the ground? Why not take a short-term profit-cut to keep your industry at a healthy level and bringing in the cash for decades to come? That makes no sense ...

"Complicating the outlook is the ever-evolving technology that brings vast information reserves to tiny instruments, such as the iPhone. Hundreds of video channels come streaming off satellites.

None of those sources, however, will cover a local City Council meeting, or check the local police blotter or staff the local football game."

A gizmo can’t cover a council meeting, but someone with an iPhone can cover a city council meeting and not have to pay for paper and buy gas for trucks to take it to your house.

As a complete non-expert, I’m giving it about 20 years until the idea of a paper newspaper will be quaint. I grew up hearing that newspapers will survive until everyone starts taking their computer with them to their bathroom.

Now you can take it with you to the bathroom, the elevator and your wife’s hospital room after the baby’s delivered.

Part of me groans at the idea: The newsroom of frantic typing, cursing, smoking, drinking is dead. The paper bought in tons and the ink by the barrel, the final product pored over by customers hungry for information. Of course, it was dead even before I got into the business.

By high school, the number of people who read the paper consisted of me and my fellow journalism students. It’s done nothing but go down.

Besides, if we’re supposed to be so environmentally concerned, where do we get off blowing through as much paper as we do and then using a gas-heavy distribution system?

"Storytelling can't be automated."

Actually, it can be.

"When employees are regarded merely as interchangeable parts, casualties such as me become collateral damage in the never-ending drive to maintain unrealistic profit margins.
I believe the lives and health of Americans are being sacrificed in the interest of corporate greed.

The problem is much broader than the newspaper industry. Similar conditions prevail in retailing, medicine, education, transportation, manufacturing - practically any endeavor that preaches the heresy of "do more with less."

Let's be truthful: We're doing less with less."

People love to go all teeth-gnashy about corporations, and it’s often well-deserved. But most people who have spent some time in the business know the only thing worse than working for corporate-owned newspaper is working for a non-corporate-owned newspaper.

There have always been some exceptions, but most family-owned papers were (are) hit-and-miss operations. And usually they’d miss.

You’d end up working as the publisher’s publicity hit man, attacking people he wanted attacked, ignoring the things he wanted ignored. I recall people talking about having to write positive "news" stories on a new real-estate development that just happened to be owned by the publisher’s son.

And the policy decisions could verge on the insane. Once a journalism prof told me about a publisher at a paper roughly the size of the one in Denton, around 20,000 circulation.

The owner’s wife decided that the paper needed a fashion reporter. So they hired one, and sent her to a fashion show in PORTUGAL.

And don't even bother trying to hold them to some reasonable approximation of labor laws.

It’s easy to forget that a lot papers became a lot more professional over time as corporations took over and the boss became accountable to someone else.

"I remember the good ol' days, before everyone was obsessed with 40 percent "retention" and a thousand points of marketing bullwhiz."

I wish my Grandpa were still around to tell me what "bullwhiz" means.

"It's hard to remember when people loved newspapers more than they loved money."

I’ll bet it is, because it never happened.

Here’s what I think the deal is. Newspapers are dying, but it's a natural death. The idea of waiting for news doesn't make a lot of sense when you can get it instantaneously from as many sources as you want.

Papers are no longer a growth industry in the U.S. Corporate-types know this, so the plan is bleed papers dry and earn as much money as possible. Everyone is moaning that the family-owned operations wouldn’t have done this, but the families were the ones who decided to sell as soon as the price was right and the going got tough.

The worry – the web sites that crop up in the newspapers' place are going to have a scrunching effect on the industry. The press room disappears. The circulation department goes away.

I imagine they’ll hardly bother with photographers anymore, and just give most reporters cameras.

And I worry about the people who’ve given their lives to the job, and whether they’ll be able to find a decent place to go and have the opportunity to tell good stories.

But newspapers? Be prepared to move on.

Parenting differences

My wife is sitting on the floor with Sam, during "tummy time", a kind of learning activity thing that the books say we should be doing.

Meredith: Are we going to roll now? Yes! That’s a good job, such a good job! There you go Sam. Sam, do you know you’re name? It’s 'Sam' ...

Sam lies on his back, looks up at Mom and says "goo."

Meredith: OK. Now lie on your stomach. Work your legs. That’s a good Sam. You’re doing such a good job. You’re getting so big! Way to go Sam!

Sam, lying on his stomach, frantically, moves his arms and legs, but can’t go far as his belly keeps him firmly attached to earth. Sam looks at the padded play mirror and smiles.

Meredith: Good job Sam! That's you! Let’s sing a song ...

Later ...

I’m sitting on the floor with Sam during tummy time.

Me: Good boy.

Sam lies on his back and stares at my forehead. "Goo."

Me: Good job.

Sam arches his back, which I take as a cue to turn him over.

Me: Attaboy.

Sam lays his head down on the floor, looks into the padded play mirror and smiles.

Me: (Pause)

Sam looks at the padded play mirror.

Me: Well, c’mon boy. Mush!