Today, we'll find out ... something

Last post taken down, as the tastelessness was overwhelming the funny for me.

The following has mainly to do with Lubbock and football, and is probably not of much interest to anyone.

This has been an great week for a Tech fan. Three points to make before the game tonight.

Lubbock's weathered the national spotlight pretty well, tho my wife has been reporting plenty of meth-addled and STD-infected comments from work.

The worst thing I read was a column with a backhanded compliment in the Star-Telegram by Gil Lebreton, who basically said that, for a bunch moonshine-swilling, sister-sexing, knuckle-dragging morons, Tech fans were behaving pretty well this time around.

I'm doubtful he was even aware of the ironic nature of his compliment, just as I think most sports media don't see how the hostility they get from Tech fans is their own dismissive attitude thrown back in their face.

The best thing I read this week was also in the Star-Telegram, by Jennifer Engel. She wrote about the possibility that Mike Leach, Tech's coach, might actually be happy in Lubbock. This is apparently a thought that doesn't occur to people outside of West Texas often.

I also tired of all the opinion pieces saying that this game was Tech's one chance to prove itself, one chance to earn the respect of the national media.

No it isn't. The national media ranks the Longhorns the No.1 team in the country, which therefore means that Texas is supposed to beat everyone else.

Besides, if Tech loses this game, then goes on to beat Oklahoma State and Oklahoma, are we still undeserving of respect? Do we still not have a program worthy of standing alongside the national powers?

Sheesh.

And go Tech.

Notes, almost football free

Meet Tag*.


*As in "Tag! You're now taking care of me."

Tag showed up about a month ago, a small calico with a wounded nose and a good nature. I've been feeding her since. She's a clean cat who helps keep the rat population around our house down. We know this because each rat she catches ends up on our doorstep.

We decided to be responsible and get Tag fixed the other day, only to find out that she'd already been defertilized. This would have been a bigger shock if it hadn't been the second time in my life I'd tried to fix a cat only to discover someone already did.

I don't get the mentality. "There, you're spayed. Now go away and starve to death."


Sam gets haircut, trip to emergency room
Sam's first hair trim wasn't a dramatic, milestone event I think it is for most kids.


This is because Sam doesn't have a lot of hair to begin with. A trip to the barber would've been a waste of money.

The strands he does have, however, were growing long and girly looking, so Mom provided the cutting. She did a good job. He's back to looking manly and ready to shoot something.

Two hours after I put Sam to bed on Saturday, he woke up crying and coughing. And coughing. Then his coughs turned into these ugly sounding things, like his internal organs were fighting with each other.

I got him out of bed. He kept coughing, and wheezing in between.

So figuring it was time for people to start freaking out, I called Meredith. Soon we were driving to the hospital.

Everything was OK. Sam was doing much better before we got to Cooks Children, and a quick examination revealed -- the croup.

Croup makes them bark like a seal and their throat passages swell, making it difficult to breath. The best treatment is to bring the infant out into the cold night air, which we had done by bringing him to the hospital.

He's been a bit stuffy since, but basically fine. The main thing I got out of the experience was the feeling I had sitting in the emergency room -- I felt just like I did when Sam was born, a mental deer-in-the-headlights-of-reality feeling that I had no idea what I was doing. I'm guessing that's never going to go completely away.

Tragedy on the gridiron
The Dallas Cowboys will always be the pro team I care about the most, even if I flirt with other teams from time to time.

Still, I don't have an ET-Elliot kind of connection with them. I don't think I ever could so long as Jerry Jones is the owner.

So it was with this detachment that I was able to laugh at the media mood on Monday morning.

To turn on the radio was to listen to people talk as if they were attending the tragic funeral of a best friend.

"Man ... I just don't know ... how could it ... how could they ... man."

(Personally, I think it's because everyone on that team feels drained by Jerry Jones' 24-hour Funtime Circus.)

Let's hope Romo's pinkie heals soon. It's all that stands between us and mass suicide.

How 'bout the Big 12 as the Middle East?

I was able to find this on some message boards going back about a month (and it could use some updating). Done originally -- I think -- by some guy calling himself Rabid Roger. See if you can guess the school Roger is rabid about. And if you can't, see if you can replace all your silverware with soft plastic sporks as soon as possible ...


TEXAS: Iran.
Somewhat of a controlling power in the region but it will all come crashing down because they have a highly functioning retard as a leader.

KANSAS: Kuwait.
Tons of riches and unrealized potential, but still vulnerable to Iran.

NEBRASKA: Iraq.
A wealth of history but the country as a whole is going in the tank and they will kill themselves off before it's all over.

OKLAHOMA: Saudi Arabia.
A proud kingdom, once torn up by fighting but known for historic past and prosperous future, surrounded by Iran and Iraq, with fanatics in Al-Qaeda (see below) who'll stop at nothing to bring them down.

MISSOURI: Syria.
Evil schemers who will stoop to whatever level they need to win. No real history to speak of but thinks they are the cradle of civilization.

OKLAHOMA STATE: Al Qaeda.
No real country, just a movement of disgruntled fanatics who live to destroy the hope of those more fortunate. No other goal in life than to bring down the House of Saudi Arabia. Terrorizing that country in the late 90's and early 2000 years is the crowning achievement in their history. Signing day was a major setback to the movement. They are fanatically loyal to their new leader.

KANSAS STATE: Palestinian territories.
No one really cares or worries about them unless they can be of some use (i.e. winning a battle once in a while against Iran that causes a bit of shake up in rankings)

IOWA STATE: Qatar.
Where is Qatar? Is it in our area?

Texas A&M: Afghanistan.
Not much going for it other than the crazy commoners.

BAYLOR: Israel.
None of the others understand why they're in the area.Just leave them alone. What did they ever do to you?

COLORADO: Morocco.
Not really part of the Middle East. Has other things to do than fight (or play football). Rumor is you can always go there for a good time.

TEXAS TECH: Libya.
Has a charismatic leader in a land of nothingness who will rattle his sword but knows he doesn't have a whole heck of a lot to back it up. Pulls the occasional sneak-attack and cries "Victory!"

The mid-season Big 12/Star Trek character comparison

The Microsoft network decided to rate the nation’s best and nation’s worst mascots. After looking at the results – Eh. The writer apparently decided that beauty was awesome and a random dude who dresses like a tree and gets arrested for public drunkenness is somehow a bad thing. Bill Gates is a moron.

Anyway, that bit, my recent description of OU fans, and another blogger who did this – only in comparison with "The Office" – got me to thinking: Which Star Trek character does each Big 12 school most closely resemble right now?

Let me just add that a quick Google check indicates I’m the only one thinking this. At least within the last 12 hours.

This is mainly from a Texas Tech perspective. It’s not like I can stop that. No one gets to be Picard. No one will ever get to be Kirk.

Oklahoma Sooners/The Borg

"We are the Sooner Nation. Prepare to be beaten. We will use BCS rule 78B part 5 addendum 17a to maintain our spot in the BCS championship game. You cannot stop us. You will be ... zzzzzzzzzz."

Texas A&M Aggies/Wharf
"Perhaps it is a good day to die!"

From his military culture, you’d expect the guy to be the Star Trek version of Chuck Norris. But he keeps on getting clobbered. It’s like the creators of the show like to see him beat up.

Colorado Buffaloes/Riker
"Giggity."

Everyone considers him competent, but you realize he’s too hotheaded and mistake-prone, and just seems to be around to contrast with the big dogs. He’s always going on and on about his ability with the ladies, but the only one you remember him dating was that androgynous, granola alien who wasn’t even sure if she was a chick.

Texas Tech Red Raiders/Geordi La Forge
"The chionic particles are dissembling in the alpha matrix. Ungh."

Not that anyone really talks about it, but the pirate fetish/visor thingy kind of freaks people out. Genius with the technical stuff. Only he tends to get so caught up in his machines/offense that he doesn’t notice the two dumb guys with clubs sneaking up from behind.

Nebraska Cornhuskers/Tribbles
"..."

They really like their grains. Appear all cute and cuddly, then practically overwhelm everything.

Missouri Tigers/Spock

A bad mofo. Texas Tech quarterbacks play against Missouri like someone pinched them in a vital area. Still, tends to have some kind of freakout three or four times a season – either it’s mating time or he’s gone all "la di da dee dah" all over the place. There’s a reason he’s not the captain.

Baylor/The Fifth Crewman
"Seems likable. They’ve given him a few more lines of dialogue than usual so far. Maybe he’ll be some one-episode hero or something ..."

The music crescendos. A high-pitched buzzing noise. And the whole screen turns a shade of pink.

"Nope. Guess not."

Oklahoma State Cowboys/Lokai (the half-white/half-black guy)

Appears to be incredibly powerful, but brings along his own seeds of destruction. You get the feeling that soon the T.Boone side and the Pickens side will be running through the flaming ruins of a great season.

Kansas Jayhawks/Gorn
"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

You’re not sure if he wants to out think you or eat you.

Kansas State Wildcats/Hawk

Cool guy, decent history. Seems somehow out of place.

Iowa State Cyclones/Terri Garr
"She was on the show?"

Yep – an early episode. Her job was to speak in a hippie slang, act confused and make everyone else look good.

Texas Longhorns/Captain Janeway
"Fire a photon torpedo – of sensitivity."

Does anyone else notice how much tea they drink on the later Star Treks? Was coffee outlawed during the Zefram Cochrane era? Anyway ... You’re in command, fine, fine. Just remember to tell that Irish hologram you spend so much time with that you’re still a long, long way from home.

Yes, sometimes I really like to outnerd myself.

Some thoughts on sports and fandomness

Warning: Post covers only obscure bits about football. This is not a sports blog, but, between school and Sam, it's what I spend most of my leisure time thinking about.

Saturday night I was in a bar.

***

Let's just take a moment to appreciate that.

Me.

Bar.

Saturday night.

Sigh.

(Shudder.)

(Tear.)

***

OK. Saturday night I was in a bar with a couple of buddies. We notice this guy sitting at a table across the room.

I notice him because he's the only guy I've seen since 2 p.m. wearing Oklahoma University gear. He's got the maroon cap, turned backward, with OU on the back. And he's wearing a maroon shirt emblazoned with "Beat Texas" in big, bold type.

He stops by the bar to get another round, and then yells at the bartender, who had given him a little smarm with his beer.

We stop the OU guy. I tell him I'm a Tech fan, but that he's dead-on about his team getting rooked with some horrible calls. Otherwise we give him props for having the cajones to keep wearing the T-shirt, after the fact, in enemy territory.

He begins, "It's OK. We'll be all right. Texas isn't going to get through the season without a some losses." He then rattles off some details about UT's competition, including a knowledge of Texas Tech that is deeper than my own. Then he leaves us, once again assuring us that OU will be OK.

And I had a vision. I could hear the same conversation, happening over and over again north of the Red River, borg-like in its repetition, certainty and knowledge.

It's not fun being on the recieving end of that intensity when it's directed at you, and you happen to be in the cheap seats at Memorial Stadium and your team is getting shallacked 57-6 and even the middle-aged lady sitting in front of you is handing you the business, along with her 7-year-old kid.

Still, on Saturday, I was left with a feeling of admiration for the kind of dedication and love (or something) that it takes to build to that level of knowledge and intensity.


Game faces
Earlier in the day, I made it to the Pour House in downtown Fort Worth (a fine bar for game watching) so that I could catch Tech playing Nebraska. As stated before, all the OU fans had left the area.

Plenty of Texas fans were hanging around to celebrate. Around halftime, the UT folks at the table behind got up to leave.

One guy, deadly serious, says, "OK guys. Let's not get cocky. We've got Missouri next week. We've GOT to get ready."

Ready for what? You just spent four hours in a bar an hour away from the game you watched. Did your beer selection affect Colt McCoy's passing accuracy? Did your pleas break all rules of space/time to land in the ref's ear?

All sports fans live vicariously through their teams. Everyone feels good after a win, cathartic after a loss. It's the reason people care.

But as a fan who's not at the game, your job is to:

1. Sit
2. Enjoy a tasty beverage
3. Watch TV

You don't need to put your game face on. You don't need to spend a week worrying about your level of mental intensity when the game starts. You don't need to boss your friends into not fumbling the order for chicken wings when we're going for it on fourth and two, dang it.

Because it don't mean diddly to the eventual outcome, jackhole.

Please chill. Enjoy yourself. That's kind of the point.

Kicker talk
I feel sorry for Donnie Carona, Tech's freshman kicker who just lost his job. But his situation proves the unwritten rule for kickers -- never, ever, ever award a placekicker a scholarship straight out of high school.

Speaking from my experience as perhaps the worst high school placekicker in Lubbock's not-very-proud gridiron history (0-1 in varsity field goal attempts), even I know that prep dudes don't kick high enough.

In high school, your average defensive line is made up of fat guys who average about 5'10" in height. In college, you've generally got 6'5" mountains of muscle with a 30-inch vertical jump.

Carona seems to have a hard time adjusting. Maybe he'll eventually get used to it.

Rivalry? Eh
I remember this e-mail joke from a few years back:

How many Texas Tech students does it take to screw in a light bulb?

One student to screw in the light bulb, 27,000 students to desperately attempt to start a rivarly with other schools over light bulb screwing.

It came to me while I was reading the latest Tim McMahon post in the Dallas Morning-News, as he attempts to stir the pot between Tech and A&M fans once again.

The gist of the conversation is this: Tech has always wanted to beat A&M. A&M has never given Tech the credit of a rival, taking the position that the Red Raiders aren't good enough and they don't care enough about them to call it a rivalry.

This has gone on for a few years. And it hit me that maybe Tech fans shouldn't really care about being in a rivalry with A&M or even Texas.

Being in Lubbock, we've always been the red-headed stepchild of whatever conference we've played in. Everyone always writes us off. I say to hell with all of 'em.

We should drop the non-existent rivalries for an us-against-the-world type stance. It's closer to the real feelings of most West Texans, anyway.

(No predictions for this weekend. A&M blows this year, but so did Nebraska. No idea what'll happen.)

Like Bart Simpson on Snow Day

Staying homebound hasn't been a whole lot of fun lately.

First, the Star-Telegram had a story the other day on the beginning of the Oktoberfest season. One of my favorite college memories was whooping it up to the chicken dance in Addison. You could get a huge souvenir beer glass that would shatter within three weeks of purchase. Kind of surprising they've never been sued.

Second, the State Fair of Texas is in full swing. The local PBS station has been airing an excellent documentary on the history of the fair. I've loved the show ... it made me want to blow $30 on all the deep-fried whatever they've come up this year. (I believe the deep-fried grilled-cheese sandwich, served with tomato soup, won this year's tastiest award.)

I want to pet some exotic domesticated pigs from Australia. I want to wander among the merchants and decide not to buy a belt made from ostrich feathers. I want to be mildly intimidated by the thick crowds of young ruffians who fill the park at sundown.

And I want to spend 15 minutes just standing there, basking in the glory of Big Tex -- which started out as a giant Santa Claus, according to the documentary.

Also gleaned from the fair documentary:

• The two biggest draws used to be strippers and gambling on horses.
• When I first heard the phrase "Negro Day" in the movie Hairspray, I thought it was an over-the-top satirical slam. Not really. The state fair had it's own "Negro Appreciation Day" each year -- the only day black people could participate in all of the exhibits. I can only imagine such days were part of most events all over the United States, before the civil rights movement.

Son turns one

We celebrated Sam's first birthday over the weekend. And -- despite the stress involved with attempting to feed and entertain 15 people in a small house with no seating -- things went pretty well. It helps that a 1-year-kid can provide a lot of entertainment.

Thanks to our guests. Sam got so many toys that he probably won't have time to play with them all before he graduates to the "I want a gun" level of toydom.

My Aunt Peggy gave him this plastic table that lights up and sings a song any time you push a button, spin a wheel, etc. He really seems keen on this bit that sings out numbers, and I'm sure I'll soon be hearing "One-twothreefour-five-six-seven-Eight-NINE-TE-EN!" in my sleep any day now. But it's kinda fascinating to watch him figure things out, make intellectual progress right in front of you, as opposed to coming home from school one day and telling me what's in an atom.

Otherwise -- the boy has grown a lot in a year. Like amazingly. Here's a comparison:

Sam in the delivery room (all cleaned up, no gross stuff here).

And Sam at one year.

And since I don't want to write any sentimental junk, I'll let Jim Croce do it for me.

I take the reigns for now

I've been busy lately, and didn't have time to notice that I have taken another head coaching slot.

So it was Jeremy who let me know that you can now call me Mr. Rams Interim Head Coach, thank you very much.

Stress seems to be getting me, what with the turkey neck and all. In the very least, no one will accuse this team of fading down the stretch.

Go St. Louis. And your quarterback, who is probably the sixth or seventh guy since Kurt Warner left, not that anyone really cares.

Sam discovers his inner viking, & notes

Spurred on by the evil cat ...

He's not going after anything at the end. He's just running and screaming for the joy of it. I haven't acted that way since my senior year at North Texas.

Workee work! etc.
Some of you may have noticed that even the paltry standards of updating this blog have fallen off somewhat since the beginning of the month. The thing is, I realized last weekend that I had maybe bitten off more than I could chew with three college classes, the internet teacher certification thing, and the job of keeping this house so clean you could eat off of any surface of your choosing.

I've since implemented the no-damn-fun-anytime-whatsoever action alert plan. No more library books, a hold on my Netflix queue, no weekend trips, and web surfing only when I couldn't otherwise be studying.

I've made some progress after earlier falling behind, but this is going to be a semester-long thing.

Sick
It took us about a week and half, but everyone has more or less recovered from Sam's cold, though I still have to cough to clear my throat. Sam's nose seems to be kinda-sorta cleared up. My primary impression of the experience is amazement that a 20-pound baby could produce that much mucous. Unbelievable.

Outdated things
Had another I'm-really-old moment at UTA on Wednesday.

I'm sitting in Union's Palo Duro Lounge, a place I like to go to almost solely because of the name, and was reading the comics in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. Chuckling about once for every 10 strips, and otherwise thinking that it seems like comics used to be a lot more edgy and funny. It's like something took the oxygen out of them in the last five years.

Then I heard two guys laughing. They were downloading clips of "Family Guy" to their phones and playing them to each other.

Hico quadruplets
I understand this means four.

FORT WORTH — Tina McLean is planning for a big, big crowd at home in Hico this Thanksgiving, including three new sons and a new daughter that weren’t around last November.

I didn't recognize anyone, but it's not like I really know anyone.

The story goes on to talk about how the whole town is getting ready to welcome the family back, how people are lining up to pitch in.

And it made me think that, if this happened in the suburbs, you could maybe expect your neighbors to start waving at you, every once in a while.

POTUS talks farm
I guess I should start this out with a political disclaimer: I haven't talked politics here. I realize the image of some people will cause others to react like dracula seeing a cross. And, while I'm fascinated by politics, I've never really felt like I had much to add to the national chimps-flinging-feces-at-each-other conversation. I also want everyone to feel welcome here.

So, for the time being, I say I won't mess with your dudes. Don't mess with mine.

With that in mind, I present a nifty little bit of family history:

As part of his duties working for A&M and the Agrilife Extension Service, my brother in law, Andy Vestal, has to go to an emergency operations center in Austin any time there's a hurricane in the Gulf.

So, when my parents switched to Fox news to check in on coverage of Gustav (the one before Ike), they happened to catch Vestal chatting with President Bush in a background shot.

Here's Andy's account of it:

The President and I actually talked about AgriLife Extension and had a visit about our family farms in Hico and in Crawford just minutes away from each other. He wanted to know a bit about the expected rainfall for fall grazing and filling the tanks.

The President of the United States, talking about the Hico farm. That's pretty cool.

Mike Leach dating tips

Since Tech doesn't have a serious game today ...



I just keep waiting for him to crack a smile or give some indication that it's a joke. Nope, he might as well be discussing Colorado's defense or the U.S.'s economic policy.

Fall falls, notes

A hurricane isn't all bad.

This hit me last night, as the temp cooled down to 60 degrees for the first time since April. Yep, those ultra-low pressure systems are good for sucking up all of the hot air for hundreds of miles around.

Around Fort Worth, it was almost like a holiday. Everyone was outside -- taking the kids to eat, running up and down the block like an idiot, etc.

It was such a pleasant evening, I tried to take a picture of the full moon with my camera.

Nope, didn't work out too well.

Ike-AH!

Of course, I note the good things about the hurricane only as random thoughts after seeing and worrying about the state of Southeast Texas. I spent a year down there and had a pretty good time.

The damage is going to cause a lot of heartache, but I'm glad that the death toll hasn't been disastrous.

I did get a little annoyed this morning when hearing about some of the rescued people from Galveston. First off, I hear that about 40 percent of the population did not leave, even when the government was practically begging them to go. Even considering the island's history with hurricanes.*

But hey, if you're willing to take your chances, that's ultimately your business. I get irked, however, when I hear radio reports that the people who decided to stay put are now complaining that rescues are taking too long. And you expected what?

Sick at last, sick at last

Sam's nose started running Sunday. Last night, it was running so bad that he had to labor breathing while he tried to sleep. He didn't get much rest, and neither did mama and daddy.

Today he's running a 102 temperature, and just left to go to the doctor.

You hate to see your kid sick, but, on the other hand, it's kind of relief to get it out of the way. Eleven months old, and Sam hasn't had any kind of sickness to speak of since he's been born. It makes you worry that the first time he catches something, it'll be really, really serious.

So, it's a relief to see this happen, though it was a bigger relief to see him doing better by the time he and mama finally left for the doctor's office.

In the meantime, Meredith's nose is already running. And I feel like I already have a target on my back.

*If you get a chance, read Isaac's Storm. It's an excellent book about the worst natural disaster in U.S. history.

Sam movie

We don't have a normal video camera, just the movie function on our digital photo-picture-taker. Anyway, with Sam walking pretty good now, we decided to try a quick movie.

And then he ate the camera. And everything else ...

Videos

Both of these are from Jeremy.

The first is a Klingon song. It's most likely about looking forward to glorious death with honor in battle.



This is basically what Bob Dylan's show would be like, if it involved the eating of live animals.

The next I can't embed. But it's worth a look for those who love far West Texas. The San Antonio Express-News did a film short on Terlingua -- easily one of the greatest places in the state.

Here it is. Enjoy a three-minute vacation.

You'll notice a dog in the shot. I remember that dog. Nice fella.

Notes

From the male grapevine
The best thing about any fantasy football draft is watching the chatter from people you haven't seen in years. (I stay quiet, which is what everyone would expect.)

Yesterday, while I picked players for my team Love Shack*, I heard the news that a reporter I worked with a long, long time ago was pregnant -- again -- and still unmarried. As I hadn't heard of pregnancy no. 1, that kinda freaked me out.

Usually when you hear news of old acquaitances, it's about a new job or move or kid or something that fits into what everyone expects out of life. You file the news somewhere and maybe remember it, maybe not. When they're having difficulties ... I dunno. For me it's like I'm instantly back in the newsroom or at a bar sharing a beer with that person -- far removed from the harsher things life is going to throw at people.


The nuerotic dog
So I took Ginger and left Jimbo here last weekend when I drove to Lubbock. Meredith said he behaved well, but pretty much just moped around for the three days me and the other dog were gone.

Since I've been back, he's gotten better but has still been kind of tentative with everything he does. Last night, I found some bumps on his chest, apparently his glands are swelling and he's fighting off an infection or something.

This is a high-stress dog. When we first moved to Fort Worth, he got some kind of stomach bug, went three days without eating, and spent two weeks on antibiotics.

Damn dog, doesn't understand relaxation techniques.

Bluff Dale, the latest small Texas town to go all Fredericksburgy

The Star-Telegram ran a feature on Bluff Dale, a town that's about 30 minutes away from Hico, and my wife is excited.

They've got a vineyard and winery! A gourmet-casual restaurant! Other stuff!

"I want to go," Meredith said. Then, thinking again, "Of course, now that it's been in the paper, it'll be infested by yuppies."

And, as my buddy David J. used to say, such is life. Small towns like Bluff Dale and Hico haven't been able to prosper in the old way -- when everybody had a 200-acre farm and grew cotton and cows -- for decades.

So, people who spent their life avoiding other people who used words like "lifestyle choice" now have to offer their own lifestyle choice of small-town quaintness in order to keep making money.

I'd be more melancholoy, but this place in Bluff Dale offers duck quesadillas, and I'm dying to give that a try.

Talking football, because my mind thought up things to say and I might as well write them down
After listening to the Tech game Saturday, I'm left vaguely unsettled. I don't know this team. It sounds like they could be good, but you're not going to get anywhere with a personal foul against you every three plays.

It's like they want to prove that they deserve the rankings and hype they've received, so they go out and either try too hard or not hard enough. I can only hope they clean themselves up quickly.

As it is, Texas and Oklahoma are already looking sharp. And so is Missouri, come to think of it. Tech had better focus, and ignore all the temptations and distractions that life in Lubbock can provide.

As far as A&M -- whoa. Didn't see that coming. The funny thing was reading the message boards and seeing everyone already calling for a new coach. C'mon, it's the first game of a new system. Ark. St. ain't that bad. Still, I think A&M's going to have a lousy season. I also think they are going to scare the bejesus out of Tech at Kyle Field.


*The song was on my mind, plus I had this nifty photo of a shack back in Hico that I want to repair. No, nothing nefarious has happened there. At least, not that I know of. It does look kinda creepy, though.

Water tower mascots

There's an entertaining, if unfocused, story in the Star-Telegram today about towns painting their high school mascots on their water towers.

It starts by talking about O'Brien (which is way out there and I've driven through it), a town that recently installed a new water tower. And then painted on a tribute to the high school's six-man state championship. Even though the championship was in 1972. And the school has long since shut down.

I think it's a great subject. I recall Hico just recently installing one of those golf ball-tee water towers, and the local folk then grumbling until a donor came through with enough money to paint "Home of the Tigers" on the top.

I can only imagine the stories out there.

The weird thing about the S-T piece is that it's half talking about mascots on water towers and half about O'Brien's championship run. It's either two stories shoved together or one that kind of sprawled all over the place.

Still. Entertaining. I recommend it if you're interested in that kind of thing.

Also: Click on the audio slideshow. They don't show nearly enough water towers, but about halfway through the background interview, you hear a rooster going off.

Sam's de-butt* in the Star-Telegram

You'll have to click on the link to find out why I made such a lame pun, though you can probably figure that out before clicking.

Anyway, for a quick update:

About a month ago Sam started trying to walk. Basically, he'd take a step and fall down. On Sunday, Aug. 17, 2008, he managed to string five steps together and I thought, "I'm calling it, he's walking."

Then, for a bit, he seemed to lose interest in walking at all. Yesterday, he took his five steps and, instead of falling down, he stopped, regained his balance, and took five more. Then he sat down violently. I keep worrying about his spine, the way the boy slams his butt down.

Anyway, here's a series of shots of Sam walking. I realize he looks almost maniacally happy in these shots, but I've discovered my boy is a bit of a ham when you point the camera at him, plus, I'd be happy to get above the evil cat myself.

*Pun stolen from an old Dick Tracy cartoon, which explains the cheesey.

Road trip

Lubbock.

As beautiful as your favorite ugly dog.

My sister's family (all four of 'em), has been playing in a local theater group's production of "The Music Man" for the past few weeks. Most of my family attended the performance two weeks ago, but I wasn't able to make because of my wedding anniversary or something.

Meredith was too busy to make it last weekend. I knew I'd miss her and the boy, but I also saw it as an opportunity for a single man roadtrip, something I haven't done for about two years now.

So I loaded up one of the dogs and headed northwest, where the highs are in the mid-80s and the humidity hangs around 60 percent. And some Lubbockites complained about that.
The trip didn't lend itself to any kind of story, so here's a few pictures and fewer comments.

Tom and Bingo's Bar B Q

I came into town with two culinary goals: Breakfast Burritos at Josie's and a meal at Tom and Bingo's.

Josie's is just a classic taco stand. I'd never been to Tom and Bingo's, but decided to go after Texas Monthly listed it as one of the better places in the state for barbecue. The weird thing was that I was familiar with the building -- a faux log cabin that I always thought was a little cheesy for Lubbock.

The place serves only sandwiches -- small ones at about $5 a pop. It's also the only place on a Texas Monthly list I've visited and immediately thought, "Oh yeah, I can see why it's there."

I could cry for the years that have gone by without eating their barbecue.

Little League practice at Southwest park.

Managed to catch my brother (on the mound) and his son (fielding) for a bit on Saturday morning. They're in the same location we played Little League as kids.

Fishing at Maxey Park.
They didn't move the entire time I was there.

Outdoor theater, Mackenzie Park.

My nephew played "Winthrop," the kid with the lisp. Ron Howard played him in the movie, a few months before he went bald.

It's a nice a little area. You catch breezes coming of the creek and it's kept in good shape. The place's acoustics need some work, though.

*Sorry for the lack of posting. School started up this week and I've been brain dead since Monday.

Drudge headline of the day

Living with humans has taught dogs morals

Huh. Always thought it was the other way around.

Anniversary details

Or, How I learned to Sit Through Two Hours of ABBA and Not Let the Rage Inside Erupt Into Barbarism During "Waterloo."

My wife set a worrisome precedent last weekend.

She reassured me -- as we entered to theater to see Mamma Mia! -- "Don't worry, it'll give you something to blog about."

I admit I already had some ideas -- A wrist-slashingly good time! -- but the thought that she can tell me to just make fun of something later when I don't want to do it in the first place ... well, that doesn't bode well. Next thing you know, I'll be expected to go shoe shopping for three hours without buying anything.*

To explain the situation more fully:

Mamma Mia! is a movie musical built around ABBA songs. ABBA was a popular Swedish group in the '70s. Their main demographic: Womyn from ages 5 to 60. (I'm happy to think that some in the audience may need the info.)

A full six weeks ago, me and Meredith had already planned to do something small for the anniversary -- dinner and a movie -- as times are tight and only look to get tighter. That led to an ongoing conversation about which movie to see.

I voted for "Wall-E." I heard it was excellent and I'd never seen a Pixar movie on the big screen. My wife wasn't enthusiastic, and suggested the latest Batman flick, and just passingly consdidered Mamma Mia!, which I vetoed outright.

But.

My wife has had a hard time the last few weeks. She's had some nagging health problems, stress at work, a gruff husband who's not pulling his weight at home.

So, the day of, I'm in a giving mood. She springs "I want to see a romantic comedy" into the movie discussion. Mamma Mia! it is. Only later did I realize she had worked that angle for six weeks before pouncing.

(Extra comment: Before the movie, we had to sit through eight or nine trailers for films that looked so bad, you wonder how people in Los Angeles can look in a mirror, much less a camera.**)

As far as Mamma Mia!, if you've read any of the criticisms, you know what you're going to get. A ridiculous plot and enough kitsch to choke on.

The good things about Mamma Mia!:

• Greece is beautiful. I should go there some day.

The bad things about Mamma Mia!:

• You get a group of girlfriends who greet each other by screaming their heads off for 10 seconds before breaking into some asinine chant. Twice.
• You get Pierce Brosnan singing.
• You get a morbidly obese peasant woman throwing down her load of firewood so that she, too, may participate in the "Dancing Queen" number.
• You get an island inhabited by about 12 stereotypical Greek peasants and about 90 of the coolest frat guys and sorority girls ever.
• You get Pierce Brosnan singing, again.
• You get a girl who was born in 1988, the summer of love.
• You get a cathartic wedding cancelation, followed by an on-the-spot wedding, that everyone is just fine with.
• And finally, you get an overlong scene of people dancing in a geyser, complete with close-ups of sopping wet, 60-year-old men ripping off their shirts.
• (I would have said "spoiler alert," but it's not like you can't see it all coming.)

But.

I realized at one point that I don't actually hate ABBA.

Hear me out. ABBA was huge when I was growing up, so it's not like I could help having the songs pounded into my head day-in, day-out until my tenth birthday. It's hard to hate something that familiar, or to even be able judge if it's good or bad.

And it's not like the songs are really hateable. The music and lyrics bend over backwards to not be offensive, only catchy and easy to sing. Hating ABBA is like hating Sesame Street for not having an edge.

Tho I'll admit that, if Honey Honey doesn't stop running around in my head soon, I'm going in after it with an ice pick.

*The resulting blog post: "Yaaaaawwwwwpppp!"
**"A Playboy bunny gets thrown out of the mansion and unwittingly becomes the housemom for the dorkiest sorority on campus."

Two years ago today ...

Me and Meredith tied the knot.

And I have to say that, despite the MASSIVE cut in video game playing time, it's easily the best decision I've ever made.

Happy anniversary honey.