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.

Whoa

This picture will be on my mind today.

It's kind of like one of those mind-game images where the photo could be a vase or two faces. I'm seeing it, but my brain keeps changing it from four ears to two.

Endearing, cute story here.

Perhaps a sign that the end is near ... for Texas

Or maybe the end is just near for Dallas and its burbs. The place has only been tangentially Texan for quite some time.

From WFAA in Dallas. This is kind of maddening ...

Jim Greenwood of Frisco said he never dreamed his HOA would have a problem with his new Ford F-150 pickup. Then he received the first of three notices threatening him with fines.

"Mr. Greenwood, you're violating a subdivision rule that prohibits pickup trucks in your driveway," the notice reads.

Stonebriar HOA rules allow several luxury trucks on driveways, including the Cadillac Escalade, Chevy Avalanche, Honda Ridgeline and Lincoln Mark LT.

But most Ford, Dodge or Chevy pickups are restricted.

This reminds me of some of the things me and my wife have talked about on tract housing. I'll update this after I sleep.

Oh yeah? When I was a student, North Texas gave us a box with deodorant samples and a coupon to Domino's

The Dallas Morning News Techno blog, via John ...

Approximately six months after Abilene Christian University announced its intent to bring mobile learning devices into the classroom, every member of the freshman class will be presented with an Apple iPhone 3G or iPod touch this weekend. This deployment to more than 950 students marks the first time that a university has introduced these mobile devices as learning tools on such a large scale.

Several reactions here.

• First up, public colleges are now offering some pretty nifty things as well. I understand North Texas now has a workout area where all the bikes and treadmills have their personal TV monitors. I understand they have to upgrade like this to keep up with the private schools. This is all well and good, save for the fact that I'm taking two classes at UTA this fall and the costs are already above $2000. My first semester's tuition at UNT was a quarter of that.


• Second, is this making for a better education, or just making everything more MTV-ier for people who can't focus on anything for more than 20 seconds?


• Third, Abilene Christian University? Hah! I bet the iPhones come with motion sensors that'll sound klaxons anytime someone starts moving rhythmically.*

*Because they're Church of Christ, and aren't supposed to dance. ... I know, obscure.

Paging Dr. Scooter

Strange thing happened today.

I went to see the doctor, as my snoring has recently risen to marriage-threatening volumes.

Went through the usual rigamorole -- waiting in lobby, waiting in small observation room, wondering if I'd have to get naked for some reason.

The doctor comes in. And HE'S YOUNGER THAN I AM.

I had no idea how to react. All my doctors up to this point have been old, usually angry, men. The last one I had in Abilene was especially bitter, a man with graying hair in his 50s that'd yell questions at me.

"How much weight have you gained? Are you still drinking? When was the last time you had a donut!"

"Ummm ..."

"Don't answer! Did you eat something before you came in? Do you know how much time I'm wasting on you? How hard is your life that you want to spend 20 years of it hooked up to a respirator? Answer me!*"

No such treatment from this guy. He spent about five minutes talking to me, suggested that I continue losing weight and made a referral for a sleep study.

Then he took me into his office to pick up a business card. He had pictures on the wall from when he played in the Arkansas state football championship.

Weird. I didn't know if I should shake his hand or give him a high-five.

*Apologies to Bill Cosby

A joke for readers of westerns ...

The Star-Telegram has a list of the best restaurants in the Fort Worth Stockyards and includes a place called the "Lonesome Dove Bistro."

I dunno. I understand the food is delicious, but I hear the wait staff is surly and the chef keeps killing everyone's favorite dishes off the menu.

Hah!!!

When they figure out how to deep fry it, I'm in ...

Wife just sent me this story summation with the greeting, "And I immediately thought of you."

CHOCOLATE-BACON
SANTA CRUZ, Calif. — Here are three little words that might give the staunchest snacker pause: Chocolate-covered bacon. It sounds so wrong. But it tastes just right, says Joseph Marini III, who sells the bacon bonbons at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk seaside amusement park. “It’s not just for breakfast any more,” he says with a grin ...

No, I didn't watch the Olympic opening thing

I don't plan on watching much, period. But, who knows -- maybe if I happen to be flipping channels and can spend 10 seconds watching a race ...

I tire of the media saturation-type coverage of this track meet/one-world love in. I read today that BMX racing is now a medal event. Am I supposed to root for our adult kid-bike riders to beat the Russian adult kid-bike riders?

"Go! Pop a wheelie with more attitude! Flip on your handlebars better! Show those former commies and now-thugocracists!"

I don't care. I have no plans to care. The most enjoyment I've gotten from the Olympics so far is watching the posts on the Drudge Report about how things have occasionally teetered toward disaster for China.

And the only thing I noticed in coverage this morning was this photo, and how our first lady is way hotter than China's.

Otherwise, I got football practices to keep track of.

Big 12 mascots: Best to worst

Since football has been on my mind: I've read every list ESPN has come up with: Best players, best clutch players, most hated schools, most intense rivalries, etc.

So, with an attempt to judge without prejudice, here's a list from the blogging staff on the best and worst Big 12 mascots we'll be seeing this year, listed in order from best to not-so-hot. The criteria: Appropriateness, originality, fame and coolness.

1. UT's BEVO

Keep in mind, I'm talking solely about the mascot, not a school or obnoxious fans or their unfair access to more money than everyone else. I'm talking about a bovine.

And what a great bovine it is: A breed that's a major part of Texas history, a distinctive color, majestic horns, and -- appropriate for Austin -- he's drugged out of his mind at every game. (At least according to rumor. Makes sense, a frantic longhorn at a football game could do some seriously bad things.)

He's also tied into the school's image so much that he brings out a sense of hatred from the opponents. You talk to UT haters (a big group of people). They hate UT players, the coach, Chris Simms (forever), and they really, really hate the hoofed, grass-eating mammal that represents the orange and white. That's pretty cool, all things considered.

2. A&M's Reveille

I'm not one to get excited about all 867 of Texas A&M's traditions -- "Oh, so you reverse the fork and knife after a tie. Wow. You've got spirit, yes you do."

But the way that the school has made its mascot such an integral part of campus life is something to envy. The traditions behind the dog are both amusing and cool: A corps member has to give up his bed if that's where Reveille wants to sleep; the dog goes to class -- and the lecture is canceled if she barks twice. And the mascots that pass away are given full military funerals and buried at Kyle Field.

She's not at the top of the list because, when you think Aggie football traditions, you're just as likely to think about male yell leaders, that swaying thing or the corps in general.

I'm also partial to dogs. Which you should be if you have a soul.

3. Tech's Masked Rider

Attack my impartiality, but seeing a black horse at full gallop storming onto the field is an awesome sight.

Besides, he's my mascot and I love him.

TCU's SuperFrog

Sorry, just reliving some Southwest Conference memories.

4. Nebraska's Herbie Husker

Hey, you grow corn. And you are white as the pure-driven snow. Might as well celebrate it.

5. OU's Sooner Schooner

A little team of miniature horses pulls a miniature wagon onto the field. Adorable.

6. Colorado's Ralphie

He was higher on the list until the thought struck me: "Wait a minute ... just how many buffaloes roam the Rockies, anyway?"

7. KU's Big Jay

A version of a "JayHawk", which requires a wikipedia search to define -- a cross between a sparrow hawk, a blue jay and an abolitionist. Admirable. Pretty well-known. But nothing that gets me going.

8. Baylor's Judge

The first of the generic mascots that could represent any school in any state in the country. That's a big gripe of mine -- surely you can come up with something original? Otherwise, the bear pit is nice, and Baylor really takes good care of them.

9. OSU's Pistol Pete

I suppose he's appropriate to Oklahoma, but he's also appropriate to just about every great plains school in the country. A mascot is something that should pop into your head the moment you think about a team. With Oklahoma State, I can only think "I'm a man! I'm 40!" Maybe they could get Pistol Pete to yell that at kickoff ...

10. KSU's Willie the Wildcat

Pretty much a toss-up at the bottom of the list. Two cat mascots that I wouldn't recognize if I walked by them on the street -- and that's with them wearing the big fluffy cat suits. I'm sure that wildcats at least exist in Kansas.

11. Mizzou's Truman the Tiger

Generic, not native to Missouri, or this hemisphere, and makes me think about cereal.

Hmmm ... forgot Iowa State.

Eh, who cares?

The joyous season

(Play for mood)



That's right, college football practice begins.

It's like Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, only with 350-pound sweaty guys slapping each other on the butt.

A combination of incredibly hot weather and life being in a state of flux really has me looking forward to the return of football. It also helps that the Raiders of Red are up in the rankings. I've even succumbed to the ultimate of sports geekery -- watching football simulations on XBox using the no-player option. And the game is from 2002. (Fight Kingsbury! Fight!)

So deck the halls with your lame, 20-year-old football decor and pretend that things won't be going horribly wrong by the middle of October.

Texas Monthly is weird

Thumbing through the July edition at the barber's shop:

• TM has apparently started a series on where Texans worship. The July edition prints a positive profile of a mega-baptist church in Abilene. I suppose the purpose is to draw more religious types in. The odd bit is that the profile was immediately followed by:
• A sentimental look-back at the pornflick Debbie Does Dallas by Star-Telegram critic Chris Kelly. (The lead: "How do you capture XXX-rated lightning in a bottle?") Kelly argues that the movie has heavily influenced today's cinema, and just coming from the church article, I'm a little too slack-jawed to comment.
• This is followed by An Open Letter to Cormac McCarthy: Please Go Away by one Don Graham. Apparently McCarthy, who wrote The Road and No Country for Old Men has embraced his celebrity, thereby lowering his status on the cool-o-meter. Graham pleads for McCarthy to crawl back under a rock.
• We then get to the main piece, a glorification of the Texas Cowboy by western writer Elmer Kelton. I've read several of his novels, but I find this story a little to sweet to get past the first page.
• At the end of the magazine, Kinky Friedman writes his own love letter, a non-sarcastic thanks to Bill O'Reilly. Seriously.

Strange. They've mapped out the id of Texas.

Nerd/Copy editor humor

Yeah, nerd/copy editor does dovetail nicely.

Anyway, from Caren:

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1823766

Massive wind power project slated for West Texas

I reported on the subject a bit (a small bit), when I was in Abilene. The primary complaint I heard about wind energy then was that West Texas did not have the power lines to take the electrics to the I-35 corridor.

The idea here is to change that (from AP):

"In what experts say is the biggest investment in the clean and renewable energy in U.S. history, utility officials in the Lone Star State gave preliminary approval Thursday to a $4.9 billion plan to build new transmission lines to carry wind-generated electricity from gusty West Texas to urban areas like Dallas."

I guess this is what T. Boone Pickens has been blabbing about on his radio ads here in D/FW.

The idea causes me mixed feelings. I'm doubtful of wind energy: It's not affordable without a tax break, takes up a lot of space and kills lots of little birds. (Still better than ethanol, which is driving up food costs and killing lots of little African children.)

On the other hand, something that can bring back Fluvanna can't be all that bad.

Netflix recommendation: The Devil and Daniel Johnston

Whoa. I just watched a documentary on this guy from the Austin music underground and am blown away by the story.

I know nothing substantial about music. I'm not going to pretend that I can be any judge as to the songs Daniel Johnston wrote (is writing). His voice is a screechy high-pitched awful and he doesn't play his instruments so much as bang on them. It's like modern art -- best when translated by someone who knows what they are talking about.

If you're like me, the only bit of his work you're familiar with is a piece of his art that became kinda well-known for some reason or other.

Still, the story of a young, creative guy who seems to be making the scene and then goes dangerously bonkers is told well in this movie from 2005. I put it on my movie queue as a random choice.

I'll add it was much better than the film on Townes Van Zandt, which made me want to give up independent documentaries on not-so-well-known-musicians-who-eventually-lose-it.

Le Burger Time

Heh. New York Times does a piece on how hamburgers are now big in exclusive Paris restaurants.

"It is a startling turnaround in a country where a chef once sued McDonald’s for $2.7 million in damages over a poster that suggested he was dreaming of a Big Mac. Hamburgers were everything that French dining is not: informal, messy, fast and foreign."

This is good news. Me and Meredith had talked about a trip to a French restaurant for the upcoming anniversary. Now we can go to Whataburger.

It's interesting. The French have added their ideas to the burger -- odd spices, super-expensive meat. One chef sells his at $56 a pop.

I'll at least give them credit for trying. I tried several burgers in England, and they were universally terrible. It's like they were made as a statement of what they thought of American culture.

Football on the horizon

I divide my summer into two halves: That which happens before the Fourth of July, and that which happens before football season starts. This has been a fun offseason for Texas Tech fans, as we're getting more hype -- Ranked 8 by some!! Two Heisman candidates!! -- then we've ever gotten before.

This is the fun part. The season? Well, most Tech fans are Irish in a way, because every story we tell breaks your heart.

But there's always a chance.

Anyway, you can tell the anticipation for the year is growing.

Exhibit A: This blog post by Dallas Morning News' Tim MacMahon from a couple of weeks back. MacMahon says he's tired of seeing Aggies and Raiders go after each other, and states flat out that Tech now has the better football program.

The following comments section has about 138 posts. People start arguing over which school has made the bigger sacrifice to the nation, for crying out loud.

And keep in mind: This is a debate over who's the SECOND-best team in the state.

Oh good Lord

"The schedule we keep is demanding, but it's definitely an amazing experience," said Kevin during a recent conference call from Paris.

Quote is from the Star-Telegram article on the Jonas brothers, which also included the comment that they get cheesed because people compare them to other boy bands.

Eh, it's a waste of time to spit venom at teenage boys who will unfortunately be setting the fashion standard for the poor unfortunates younger then them.

"Daddy! Can I please have the gray wool vest and pink plaid scarf! All the cool dudes are wearing them!"

These things won't ever die. My sister had Shawn Cassidy 8-tracks, posters, and always watched the Hardy Boys. I just wonder when it started. I know the '50s were full of this junk. Did my Grandmother collect tokens emblazoned in the 1910s with some young pretty boy in a cowboy hat who sang saccharine-sweet love songs on his banjo?

How far back does this go?

Happy Fourth, and notes

And enjoy the day. Meredith's working, so it's me and Sam in bachelor's paradise. I'm thinking burgers are in my near future.

It's been an interesting summer leading up to this point. Meredith survived a job cut, I survived the beginning of my return to school. Sam has learned to pick up and eat even the tiniest bits of debris we leave around the house.

We took him for his 9-month-checkup on Monday and got the "Yep, still normal" OK from his pediatrician. He's ahead of the game in a lot of things, behind in a few. His height/weight percentile's are a little wierd: he's taller than 70 percent of kids his age, and weighs less than 90 percent of them.

Tall and skinny doesn't exactly run through the Segrist family, so Sam can thank Mama. I no longer say "amen" at the end of his bedtime prayers, I start chanting "Six feet tall! Six feet tall!"

Running wild
The doctor says Sam may be walking in a couple of months. That'll add some wrinkles. He's crawling all over everything and getting into everything, as it is.

I just want him to stop licking the toilet. We keep the bathroom door shut, but anytime I open it, he's running towards the porcelin like Emmitt Smith to daylight.

Algebra done with
Summer school is over. I'm skipping the second term for several reasons, but mainly because I'm investigating what I want to do next. There's about 843 different alternative certification programs, and none of them do things the same way.

At first I was looking at UT-Arlington, then I discovered that, to qualify, I'd have to take about 2-3 years of math classes. Then I heard about an online program I-teach, which moves pretty fast. Most recently I hear that Texas Woman's University offers certification with a master's degree so you can start at the better pay levels.

No idea. I'll be making a few phone calls.

Sorry, honey
I had to ask a really strange, disturbing question this morning.

"Did I hit you last night or was that part of the dream?"

All I remember is I was standing in a room and marshmellow cream began pouring in through this tube, and it was vitally important that I stop it. I reached for it suddenly, and then heard Meredith: "Ow! You hit me! You hit me!"

I apologized, several times -- mainly because I wasn't sure if I had fallen back asleep and had only apologized in my dream.

She's OK. The fact that she now has bump makes me queasy.

I can only figure that it had something to do with my tiredness, stress levels working out in sleep. It's been a rough opening of summer and we're both exhausted. The studying has taken a lot of hours and Meredith has had to lose a lot of sleep to pick up the slack I left with Sam. I'm happy we have a few months to put some things back in order.

Just hope I don't become one of those freaks who have to be tied down when they sleep that you see on Discovery Channel documentaries.

Some pictures for Grandma ...

Hmmmmm ...

• Jeremy C. learns Oklahoma is bringing back John Blake.
• Erfort finally sees one Pirates loss too many.
• Todd W. hears about the Sears Craftsman 99-percent-off sale, one day too late.
• Dave T. reads that Willie's next album will be techno.
• David J. gets a call from his mother -- she a found a long lost note for him from "Eva something or other."
• John W. learns that Wierd Al Yankovic has retired.
• Scott M. loses his eBay fight for the Wookie lunchbox with light sabre-shaped thermos.
• Kyle S. discovers he was supposed to use a special glossy sub at 1200 DPI, for cryin' out loud.
• Tom R. learns that Paramount's next iteration of the series will be "Star Trek Follies: Hyperspace High Jinks!"

*Yes, it's old. But my brain works mostly in slow motion.

My wife, blogger

And for a professional publication and everything.

The Fort Worth Star-Telegram debuted the "Mom2Mom" social networking site today. (Actual address www.mom2momdfw.com.)

The paper has been talking about and planning this baby for months, so it's good to see it go live. Meredith is blogging under "Mer" and notes something or other about a recent skin disorder she's had.

I'm not going to guess if it's good or bad that I didn't notice.

She doesn't have her pictures up, yet. We were fine with them, tho I'd note that they were taken during Sam's usual naptime, and he definitely doesn't seem to be at his normal level of energy.

Also, they were taken three months ago, just in case you were worried that our kid has suddenly stopped developing.

Cowboy cooking notes

Son-of-a-bitch is the "most infamous*" of dishes from the chuckwagon era, consisting mainly of the cow parts you're never going to see at a steakhouse: the heart, brains, tongue, kidney, marrow-guts, etc., according to Robb Walsh's "The Texas Cowboy Cookbook."

Chuck wagon cook Cliff Teinart has his own recipe for son-of-a-bitch, and also knows some of the less offensive names of the dish: son-of-a-gun, SOB, gentleman from Odessa.

Gentleman from Odessa?

"Because, anywhere else, a gentleman from Odessa would be called a son-of-a-bitch," Teinert said.

*I don't see it beating calf fries, but we all have our opinions.

Speaking of newspapers

Meredith survived the latest round of cuts at McClatchy and the bleeding seems to have stopped for the time being. Of course those who survived feel horrible about all the friends they've lost and now get to work with a permanent ax over their heads.

Here's the latest good news on newspapers, from AP:

"Half a dozen newspapers said they would slash payrolls, one said it would outsource all its printing, and Tribune Co., one of the biggest publishers in the country, said it might sell its iconic headquarters tower in Chicago and the building that houses the Los Angeles Times.

The increasingly rapid and broad decline in the newspaper business in recent months has surprised even the most pessimistic financial analysts, many of whom say it's too hard to tell how far the slump will go.

A few months back, when San Angelo's Perry Flippin went out with a cannon shot at the industry, I reacted kinda strongly in some instances, but I realized that I never made a point.

Here it is -- The newspaper industry is doomed because:

1. Newsroom executives (they used to be called editors) have grown increasingly elitist and separated from their readers.
2. The heads of corporate newspaper chains have grown increasingly elitist and separated from everyone.
3. Neither of these things matters because it's impossible to compete with the technology that everyone under 85 knows how to use. And the people who use that technology can, and usually do, find about 1,000 distractions before they decide to check out whatever happened with that Eritrea thing.

All that being said, I don't think that the local news will just go up in smoke. We'll have some kind of news service in the future. It's vigor and health remains to be seen.

Otherwise, me and the wife will continue to watch the state of the industry with an eye on a lifeboat.

From the aforementioned report:

In fact, the industry group that compiles and releases ad revenue figures, the Newspaper Association of America, this month stopped putting out quarterly press releases with the numbers, though it quietly updated them on its Web site.

NAA spokeswoman Sheila Owens said in an e-mailed statement that the organization will now put out press releases only with full-year data "to keep the market focused on the longer-term industry transition from print to a multiplatform medium."

Translation: "Turn out the lights, the party's over ..."

Edumacation

First off, as soon as I let people know I'm going to get a teacher's certification, a few things pop up in the news.

My Mom-in-law told me about a story in the Dallas Morning News. There's a fight brewing between the alternative certification schools and the traditional colleges. The first story I read mentioned that (gasp) your child's teacher may not have had more than a C-average in college and may have never stepped into a classroom until this year started.

And this is different from what might happen with a teacher from a traditional college how? Anyway, the traditional colleges are lobbying the state to pass new rules to make it more difficult to certify teachers, inner city and rural schools are planning to fight it, blah blah blah.

Here's the latest story, seems that colleges made the state do an audit.

It's just your usual turf battle and has nothing to do with providing a better education.

Todd also sent me this story on the shortage of math teachers, and noted that I seemed to be going for "low hanging fruit."

While saying "duh", I'd also add that I picked math because I enjoy it, and going that course will give me a lot more options as to where I can teach and a tad bit more money.

James Snipe mountain lion, for real

This thing has been a lot of fun. I've watched the hoax move from West Texas to East Texas to Alabama to North Carolina, getting hits and comments along the way. This site hasn't seen this much traffic since I wrote a few comments and posted a few pictures of that bikini model/anchorwoman for that reality show in Tyler.

I wonder what happened with her? Eh, too bored to Google.

Anyway, I first got a note that the mountain lion thing was for real about a week ago, followed by more notes and a comment. You'll have to excuse my laziness for not getting around until now to posting the truth, but, at the time, remembering that the actuarial amount is equal to the principal times e to the rate(time) exponential seemed more important.

I was directed to Snopes.com, where I found this:

The large mountain lion shown in the photographs ... was hit by a Ford F350 truck on Highway 64 in Northern Arizona ... in November of 2007.

So the pictures are real, it's just the story that was altered as it moved around. After looking at the different versions, I think we can all blame the cheeseheads.

My wife, writer

The Star-Telegram just published a little "traveling with your baby" guide put together by my wife.

It was kind of interesting seeing the backstory behind this publication: First my wife pitched the story, and was recieved with total indifference. Then she did the story on her own in hopes of putting it on a blog. Then they said, well, sure, we'll run it. Then they asked her to do more stories. Etc.

Anyone's who has ever worked for a newspaper is either rolling their eyes or nodding their head at this point.

Two other things:

• The process described above took two months, so Sam is no longer 7 months old as indicated.
• And, Meredith gave the staff a perfectly decent picture of Sam sitting in his car seat surrounded by luggage. Instead, the staff used a picture of a baby sitting in front of fabric blocks who otherwise doesn't seem to be traveling, and an illustration of a family in a car, with the baby in the middle of mom and dad and inches away from an open cup of hot coffee. I'm rolling my eyes again.

Anyway, congrats darlin'.

Happy Monday

Though this week starts with a note of frustration, as father's day came and went before I knew about this:

MANGROOMER Do-It-Yourself Electric Back Hair Shaver

Please notice that the ad says the product, which was going for $39.99, is now on sale for $39.95. You save four cents. That's like 1/25th of a double cheeseburger at McDonald's.

First seen at Instapundit.

Star Wars movie crawls

Here's a site that let's you create your own.

My first combines Star Wars with the Simpsons, something else I used to enjoy before it turned bad.

Huh, it's apparently been shut down. And I had about 20 things I was gonna do with this. Damn you Lucus!

Notes, A:

Saw a cool thing on the way to classes yesterday.

I was on loop 820 in an early morning rain when the sky turned into a brilliant white color. Lightning struck a powerline on a tall steel transformer about 100-200 yards away from me. Closest I've ever been to a lightning strike. Coolest thing I've seen in a while.

There was no loud boom, but that might have been a sensory overload -- it was too bright to hear.

Anyway, it was part of a damaging day out here. The power was out at TCC by the time I got there. After spending half an hour in a darkened room with my statistics classmates, school was called off.

It was a wierd half-hour -- the lack of light forces a certain kind of intimacy on the situation. Usually the only people you see in that light are people you've slept in the same room with.

Faces of football:
ESPN has an interesting bit up on college football: "The face of the program." They're naming whatever player, coach, mascot, or whatever "you" most closely associate with every major college team in the country.

Texas Tech's is the Masked Rider. It's the dude who gallops onto the field, leading the football team, at the start of each game. (UTEP's was the Sun Bowl.)

Every Tech fan loves the masked rider, but I'm calling this a whiff -- anyone who's heard of Texas Tech football has heard about coach Mike Leach, his offense, his strange ways.

Coke now

Here's a map that shows regional preferences for what people call their soft drinks, as in "coke", "soda", "pop" or other.

My two reactions:

One of the 50 or so people in Loving County, Texas, managed to vote, putting them slightly into the "coke" category.

"Other"? What "other"? People use something besides the top three? What? "I'd like a new fangled dark ginger ale, please." "Bring some of that canned brown bubbly."

Apparently there are some large swaths of Arizona with something funny going on.

McClatchy's Black Monday

Folks:

For those of you who know our situation. Meredith works at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. The Star-Telegram is owned by McClatchy.

Today (Monday), McClatchy went forward with a decision to cut a little over 10 percent of its newspaper workforce, companywide.

Word broke last night, and despite the occasional fretting, Meredith has been holding up well.

The Star-Telegram is cutting 50 people from its newsroom. Without getting into too much detail, Meredith survived with her job today, but we're not out of the woods yet.

The thing is, we'll be OK regardless of what happens, but this is a damn inconvenient thing for anyone to deal with.

Will keep you posted.

Another month, another West Texas cult makes the news

House of Yahweh head says world to end June 12. Well, as I'm posting this, he still has four hours to be right.

The video is a pretty good look at a freak show.



As stated, the cult is headquartered in Abilene, which I guess means that San Angelo doesn't get all the bragging rights. I don't recall many run-ins with the people who belong to this group while I was in Abilene.

Mainly I vaguely remember a news story about one of the cult members who got got cheesed when he was cited for a code violation or something by the city, so he sued. And demanded damages in the hundreds of millions.

I've always figured that West Texas draws these folks for an obvious reason -- there's plenty of room, and crazy typically needs a lot of room.

Anyone up for a beer?

Mom and son are visiting family until Wednesday, and as this is the first time I've been home alone in 9 months, it'd be nice to get out.

It'd be good if you're from the Metroplex, and happen to belong to the small group of people I know. I tend not to like people I don't know.

Also: No strippers, prostitutes, or various loose women from Oklahoma.

Drop me an e-mail if you can do it.

Messed up headlines

After 300 years or so of newspaper publishing in North America, I doubt that anyone can put together a list of 20 most funny.

Still, a lot of these are pretty good.

It's kind of a list of Jay Leno's best stuff.

Sam, evil cat

Sam and the Evil Cat were playing around this morning. I wanted to get some pictures of a funny moment, but, as usual, they were both distracted when I took off and came back into the room and started pointing at them with this thing that beeps and flashes.

So here's a few shots for Grandma.

I just got back from my first two weeks of classes ...

And boy is my brain tired.

In one of the first algebra sessions, my prof was talking about math anxiety, and how some people hated math so much that they spent their entire college careers avoiding it until it's the last thing they need to graduate.

"That's four years without thinking about math," she said. "That only makes it harder."

It hit me afterwards that I hadn't seriously thought about math since before some of my classmates were born.

Here's how the night went before my first test:

Tuesday:

Noon: Get home from Tarrant County College. Pledge to spend all remaining free time reviewing for test, after I get a nap.

3 p.m.: Realize I can't sleep. Pledge to study from 9 p.m. (Sam's bedtime) to Midnight.

9 p.m.: Exhausted after not being able to nap. Prospect of going through two chapters of algebra too daunting. Pledge to get up at 4 a.m. the following morning to study.

11:45 p.m.: Nerves finally chill to point of allowing me to sleep.

First dream of night: I'm in a deserted British police station after dark. A mob is headed to the station, planning to break in and open the gun locker.

Wednesday

1 a.m.: Wife home, wakes me momentarily when she crawls into bed and tells me that she believes in me and "you can do it" for the sixth time in the last 24 hours.

Second dream: x2= (x-h)(x+k)/x+2 = A heavy dog shedding season.

3 a.m.: Wake up, realize that my combination of tossing, turning and snoring has driven wife to the guest bedroom. Hmmm ... Maybe I'll just get up at 5 a.m.

Third dream: I'm in a hotel past checkout time and I don't have the money for the bill. It's been an enjoyable stay, though.

5 a.m.: Wakey-Wakey. I take a very groggy, yet quietly desperate, review of quadratic and polynomial functions.

Not sure I can keep doing that for the next two years.

I made an A. Allowed myself a Tiger Woods fist pump.

Next test: Monday.

The strangest thought to hit me about the whole thing lately is how easy it is to get back into student mode. After a couple of days, you block out the fact that you're older than most everyone there and can't translate half of what they're saying to each other. You realize that 16 (or maybe 18.5) years of sitting in classrooms when you're young gives you a set of skills that aren't going to go away.

James Snipe's mountain lion repost

Update: Apparently, it's not a complete hoax.

Update III: Hello Illinois. (Following Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina and East Texas.)

(Yes, East Texas is a separate state, Thankyouverymuch.)

This has gotten a lot of hits.

Look at what James Snipe hit with his car on county road 328 north of Swenson, Texas in Stonewall County. The lion was still alive [Editor's note: Daaawwwww!] but unable to move, so our neighbor called animal control and they came and put him down. A land owner had seen this one a week before dragging off a 320 lb. steer. Our neighbor is an amateur taxidermist and he's going to stuff him. This one weighed 260 lbs. while most mature male mountain lions weigh 80 to 150 lbs. We had no idea they still roamed around here!

Still don't know if this is for real. "Snipe" is a name I've seen before, but it makes me pause.

Update: Abilene Reporter-News is calling it a hoax.

Summer begins, and it's back to work

I can only imagine how weird it's going to feel Tuesday morning. I start classes at TCC. I don't feel any real excitement, just a vague unease about sticking out with my 36-year-old self and having to plow my way through information I learned in high school and then again during the first stint in college.

But maybe I'm freaking out on the subconsicous level: I've already had two dreams about having a final the next day in a class I didn't know I was in. More of those to come.

Me and Meredith spent the weekend taking it easy, wishing we could've done more about Memorial Day. We "celebrated" on Sunday by taking a trip to Central Market, and discussed on the way back how boring we've become, thinking a trip to Central Market counts as a celebration.

I picked up some expensive hot dogs, beer and some kind of birch-based soda pop. Meredith picked up some things, including the wine pictured above, which she bought primarily because of the name.

This is going to be a pretty rough summer. Eight months after Sam came along, we had finally developed a schedule that allowed both of us to get as much sleep as we needed. Now, with my entire morning taken up with school, normal sleeping times have pretty much been shot through.

But it's not so bad. Last night I watched "The Pursuit of Happyness", which is good motivation. After watching what that guy went through, my problems don't add up to jack.

Sam, who I'll be seeing a lot less of from now on. I'll miss the boy, but it's all so that we can eventually spend more time together as a family.

Needing a barber

I've been searching for a decent place to get a haircut since I moved to Fort Worth two years ago. And I finally found a spot a couple of weeks back, kinda.

I've been spoiled with good barbers. One of my earliest memories is going to Howard's when I was 4 or 5. The shop was right across the street from the Texas Tech campus. I remember watching an old cowboy -- boots, skinny legs, vest, handlebar mustache -- sit down for a shave. It seemed like a horrible waste of whipped cream.

Abilene had several good shops -- one a couple of blocks from my house. How do you know you're in an authentic barber shop?

• A shoe-shine stand that you’ve never patronized.


• A rack of hair products on sale that no one has used since 1967.


• They know how to finish a high-and-tight.

The high-and-tight is simple, but it has to be finished out with a straight-razor trim. South 14th Barbers in Abilene would also add a quick rubdown using a hand-vibrator on your neck and shoulders.

After such treatment (For $8!), you'd feel much better about taking on the world, and no one would ever mistake you for a hippie.

In Fort Worth, there are no olde time barbershops close to my house. I've been visiting a Great Clips in a strip mall a couple of blocks away. I have no problem with the cuts. But the service?

The haircuts are priced in a fast-food type menu above the front counter. The barber chairs are separated by pastel-colored sails, and let's not kid ourselves that anyone ever spent five seconds thinking about putting in a shoeshine stand.

Every damn time I come into the store, I'm asked for my phone number, so that they can call up my file and ask me if I still want a "two on the sides with a trim on the top."

Because you can't just ask me and I can't just relay the information to you in an exchange that lasts maybe four seconds on a slow day. You've got to bother me with my phone number and build a million-dollar computer network to let everyone within the Great Clips community know that I prefer a "two on the sides with a trim on the top" -- and still never remember that it's tapered in the back, not blocked. Freakin' brilliant.

Anyway, after tiring of this, I finally got online, started looking and found an "Old Time Barber Shop" (actual name) within a reasonable driving distance.

Great place. Shoeshine stand, wooden furnishings, free sodas and mostly bald barbers. I was given a complete high-and-tight that was finished off with a hot-towel rubdown on my neck.

The only problem was the price: $20, including tip. I realize that, considering the shop is in a prime real estate area in Keller, they have to charge that to make ends meet. Still, I can't but feel slightly chafed.

It's a definition of the suburban experience: I'm not paying for a trip to an olde time barbershop, I'm actually buying the experience of going to a place like an olde time barbershop.

I dunno. I'll keep looking, but so far they have a new customer.

Registered

I'm officially enrolled, summer session I at Tarrant County College. Here comes algebra.

The wierdest thing about the process was that it was all online, which is something I'd heard of, but never went through. It's too easy -- you go to the site, click a few boxes and you're done. It left me a little edgy.

It's the same difficulty with technology that my Dad shows when he calls the refrigerator the "icebox" or refuses all entreaties to get a new answering machine.

I have no problem with using the Internet to buy junk. Using it to schedule a couple of six-week courses that will go onto my permanent academic record seems too ephemeral.

At North Texas, circa early- to mid-1990s, we had "teleregistration." Teleregistration consisted of calling a computer and dialing in the class you wanted to take. The computer would then either tell you that the class was full, or that you were now enrolled in "Feminist iconography of 18th century artistic and philosophical movements" when you were trying to get into miniature golf.

Teleregistration required a certain amount of quick decision-making, flexibility and organization. By the time you hung up the phone, you hadn't just signed up for classes, you had accomplished something, by God.

Photo from Todd.

That's me during my sophomore year, with a 32-inch waistline, a glorious mane of blonde hair that could be seen from the front, and my lucky teleregistration hat. Laugh if you will -- that hat got me into a lot of in-demand classes. I lost it a long time ago, the last bits of it of probably have dissolved on the bottom of the Brazos river by now, but that's another story.*

Notes: The Hico Steak Cookoff
The latest: The event was ... apparently last weekend. People keep dropping by this site after plugging in the search words, and I don't have any news to give or any links to follow, as the town has yet to post this year's winners on the Web.

I can say that my parents went and had their usual good time, tho it seems that the lady who brings the fried pies did not attend this year, a no-show that gave us all the blues.

Update: The FLDS thing
I recently read a story reporting that the Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints compound near Eldorado was showing a decreased amount of activity, and that the "lush green lawn around the temple was now brown." Just thought y'all might like to know.

Maybe lawn destruction could be the linchpin to defeating the cult. We just send in covert gardeners with Roundup and the people flee in terror of God's wrath.

Animals in the e-mail
My wife sent me a note that contained only this budget line for an AP story from my hometown:

LUBBOCK — Turns out there was no need for window dressing after all. The confused wild turkey that smashed into a window at the Lubbock county courthouse Monday was laid out for a while, but eventually was able to fly away. AP Photo.

I'm sure that there would have been a need for window dressing, but an argument about whether or not it was still bow huntin' season got everyone distracted.

And Scott forwarded this bit from the town of Swenson (out in the middle of nowhere northwest of Abilene, and I've been there):


Another shot showed the dead cat, which I don't really want to see every time I come back here. Anyway, from the e-mail:

Look at what James Snipe hit with his car on county road 328 north of Swenson, Texas in Stonewall County. The lion was still alive [Editor's note: Daaawwwww!] but unable to move, so our neighbor called animal control and they came and put him down. A land owner had seen this one a week before dragging off a 320 lb. steer. Our neighbor is an amateur taxidermist and he's going to stuff him. This one weighed 260 lbs. while most mature male mountain lions weigh 80 to 150 lbs. We had no idea they still roamed around here!

The freakin' cat weighed 260 pounds? Dang. Maybe he was stalking the car.

Of course, the whole thing could be a fake. Not that it'd actually matter if it was.

Updated: It's real, sorta.

Later.

*The story: I was on a canoe trip on the Brazos, and the wind blew the hat off my head. I got sunburned, bad. No, it's not much of a story. Thanks.

The Force never looked so beautiful

And I'm pining for an XBox 360 like dead parrots pine for the fjords.

Notes: Evil Cat, cartoon brutality, life-changing decisions, etc.

So.

The original plan was to let people know once classes started, but since it’s the main thing on my mind nowadays I’ll go ahead and announce it.

This summer, I’ll start taking college classes to begin the process of getting certified to teach middle school math. It’ll be about two years. To qualify, I first have to take a lot of catch-up courses, and right now I’m in the middle of the usual last-minute application rush I’ve always enjoyed so well.

I’m not going to pretend that I’ve had a deep voice chanting "Teach the children, give them a compass" in the back of my head since I can remember. I’m planning on teaching middle school math because I figure I can handle the age group, and the scarcity of math teachers will give me better salary options and a better chance to work where I want to. I don’t love numbers. I like numbers. I flirted with numbers in college and thought the usual journalistic fear of numbers was stupid.

Everybody wants to spend their lives doing what they love to do. I’d love to do that, whatever it is. On the other hand, doing what you love can also make you suffer. My Dad made a career out of doing what he loved, and I saw it break his heart on a bi-annual basis.

My last three jobs were a lot of fun: Old-folks home attendant, pizza maker, assistant sports editor. They all had something about them to enjoy, and I wasn’t in some personal drama over whether or not this was the lifelong decision that would complete me as a person. It’s a job. Lighten up.

Baby tips
VMarks sent me this link to "baby tips" which includes some of the following advice.

Some of the humor there is pretty sick. It’s weird, how I’d have thought all of it was hilarious before Sam was born. Now, I still laugh at it, but a part of me cringes to see someone doing something awful to an infant, even in cartoon form. Being a parent makes you edgy.

The evil cat attacks the environment
Both outside and inside: First she eats the zinnias, then she vomits on the floor.

(Second Picture not included)

Even though the results don’t look like the flowers, come to think of it.

A deeper prison

Another week, another adjustment.

We got scared of coming in every morning and seeing this:

We were terrified that Sam would figure out that a little lean and jump means freedom, and possible head owwies.

So we adjusted the bed, just as Ikea designed the crib.

Man, when I was putting that thing together, I busted my thumb with a hammer so many times I lost count and spent most of the night cursing Sweden and all things viking related.

But lowering the mattress wasn't that bad, just took about 15 minutes for the whole project. Next step: We take off the bars and Sam gets an actual bed. So that he can come into our room at 4 a.m. and demand to watch Barney.

Dark side of politics

One day, the idea of relating virtually everything we come across into a Star Wars metaphor will seem old and outdated.

And that will be a sad day.

Missing the geek dungeon

Or

Wanting to pull out the +3 battle ax for reality

My freshman year at North Texas, I spent the majority of my time immersing myself into role playing games. Dungeon and Dragons, Palladian, Paranoia. I played miniatures once. Real gold-medal geek-olympics-type stuff.

This phase lasted about three semesters, after which I started hanging around guys who actually spent time with girls. And suddenly, scrounging together enough gold pieces to buy that elvish long bow wasn’t that high of a priority.

I’ve found that, given enough time, most of my old obsessions will come back to me, and lately, for a lot of reasons, I’ve been missing the fun of pure geekish escapism.

Reasons? Well, marriage kind of takes away the need to present myself as a with it dude who bends reality to his will and therefore has no need to pretend to kill pretend goblins. (No, no one ever bought my attempt to portray myself that way. Duh.) Secondly, I’ve been camping recently, but not enough to fulfill the need to get out there for the adventure and danger. (The "danger" of being eaten by skunks and smelling really, really bad.)

And what really got my mind headed in this direction was two news bits: Dungeons and Dragons is coming out with a "revolutionary" reboot on the game rules, and Gary Gygax, one of the guys who started the D&D franchise, died in early march.

Quick joke, from The Latest Word blog, thanks to Todd:

When referring to Gygax's death, you can say he:

1) Started a new character sheet.

2) Is looking for a ninth-level cleric.

3) Failed his save vs. death magic.

4) Is food for purple worms.

5) Immediately became an NPC.

6) Finished the Doritos.

And so on ...

Those were some good times back in college: Staying up until dawn hyped on vivarin and cheap cola; rolling a 20 at the exact right time, living through what were actually some decent stories; laughing at our own social incompetence.

The problem with daydreaming about this now is that I really have no where to take the memory. I don’t know any one who plays any more, starting a group would be an organizational nightmare, and joining some kind of club would bring me into contact with people who take the game way too seriously. (Imagine yourself stumbling into a political conversation with someone who cares deeply about the latest mining habitats for dwarves. You get the idea.)

So, I’m left with scouring the fantasy books at the library for a decent story (not an easy thing) and hoping that someday I’ll get together with people who can’t think of a better way to spend the evening.

I’ll be the scout. I’m always the scout.

Quick treat

A website that tells you what the No. 1 song was on any day of any year going back to 1891.

Obviously, this is great birthday material.

Dec. 10, 1971, was Sly and the Family Stone's "Family Affair."

I don't have a clue. Maybe I'd recognize it if I heard it.

It begs the question, is it better to have a birthday song that you don't recognize but by a group with a lot of street cred, or is it better to have a piece of excrement that you hate but that bursts into your head as soon as you hear the title, like 1981's Dec. 10 No. 1, "Physical"?

Actually, that's pretty easy to answer.

Grandparent fulfillment post, No. 3

Here are a few pictures of Sam, who seems to be very comfortable with the camera, and a short story.

When I was working the gourmet case at Central Market, the food I hated handling the most was whipped sweet potatoes. I like it as food, but as something to work with it was too soft to spoon and too firm to pour. It was also sticky to a point where it was impossible to go through a day without having to take some time off to wash and rub the stuff off of you, and you'd still go home looking like you were the cutter from a butcher shop where animals bled orange cream.

Sweet potatoes were the worst, until I ran into pureed prunes. Mix them together, and ughhh...



Otherwise:

Sam with blanket. He likes it so far, but doesn't seem to be really attached to it. I'm wondering when they start developing those "I want my binky" type feelings.

This is Sam's favorite thing to do. He's been pulling up for two weeks or so, and will stand at the window in his room, happily watching the world go by, and drooling gallons at a time.

Sam goes for the camera. His expression in this one kind of disturbs me.

Lubbock: THE conservative bellwether

Always strange to see a hometown nobody much mentions for most of my life keep coming up. It's not always good, but it's fascinating to me.

This morning, Peggy Noonan used the anchor of South Plains civilization to guage George Bush's unpopularity:

In Lubbock, Texas – Lubbock Comma Texas, the heart of Texas conservatism – they dislike President Bush. He has lost them. I was there and saw it. Confusion has been followed by frustration has turned into resentment, and this is huge. Everyone knows the president's poll numbers are at historic lows, but if he is over in Lubbock, there is no place in this country that likes him. I made a speech and moved around and I was tough on him and no one – not one – defended or disagreed. I did the same in North Carolina recently, and again no defenders. I did the same in Fresno, Calif., and no defenders, not one...

The reasons for the quiet break with Mr. Bush: spending, they say first, growth in the power and size of government, Iraq.

She doesn't mention illegal immigration, which I'm going to hazard a guess and say is a fairly big deal among conservatives in Lubbock, probably moreso than the war in Iraq.

Buy my interest here is mainly in Lubbock being used as a political weathervane.

George Bush (the first) made a remark after winning the 1988 election that a friend of his from Lubbock said things were good, so Bush guessed it'd all be all right. The comment led to a few news stories about Lubbock becoming the next Peoria (as in "Will it play in ...?")

This didn't last long, as pollsters soon realized that asking if Lubbockites preferred the conservative option was akin to asking attendees at a baptist convention if they were fond of Jesus. The results were too uniform to be of much use as a national guage.

After 9/11, Bush (the second) wanted a terrorist policy that "the boys from Lubbock" could understand.

The Bushes don't give a great reflection of the city. They -- inadvertently, maybe -- peg Lubbock as a place where downhome folks sit on porches, drink heavily sweetened tea, swat flies and make vague remarks over the state of the world as they hear it coming over the wireless.

Noonan's remarks are different. Lubbock becomes the cliff that you daren't jump over if you're a conservative politician. I can hear the dismissals now (Lubbockites automatically tense any time they get national attention) about how we're a bunch of racist meth-adled simple folk with family trees that don't fork.

But I think Noonan's hit something here: If conservatives hack off this crowd, there's no where else for them to go.

Spooky baby

In this one, the ghost of Sam haunts his parents for an unjustified nap time.

(He's standing up in his crib, by the way. That's actually the reason I shot this.)

A new post

I haven't been writing much lately for a lot of reasons. Mainly it has to do with me doing the once-a-decade-what-am-I-doing-with-my-life survey and trying to come up with one or two answers.

Hence, I've cocooned myself off so that I could focus on a couple of things. Soon I'll emerge, again, as the most kick-ass butterfly ever.

There's a lot of stuff going on that I've thought about posting on, and I'm doing a disservice to myself by not sitting me butt down and pounding it out. I'll get back to it soon.

Meanwhile, here's something moderately interesting from the Wall Street Journal -- a critique of a book that examines the writer's quest for status:

For scholarly authors who want to flaunt their erudition and thereby make a status claim, Mr. Zaid offers Noel Coward's deflating remark: "Having to read a footnote resembles having to go downstairs to answer the door while in the midst of making love." And Mr. Zaid has a fine eye for authors who value media attention more than the work that inspired it: "What matters isn't the poem," he observes, "but to appear on television as a poet."

Mr. Zaid's goal is to capture the variety of anxieties that beset literary fame-seekers, and he does so with a mocking cleverness. A serious theme, though, runs through his book – that with the possible exception of a few agonized painters and musicians, no one can quite touch the exquisite torment of the literary artist as he faces the hazards of fate. And yet reading Mr. Zaid's account, one can't help noticing a resemblance to another social figure: the businessman.

Sick, disgusting, twisted and a nice lawn

A random thought brought on by a sad event:

I've followed the Warren Jeff's cult thing (Fundamental Church of Latter Day Saints) with interest for a few years now.

I heard about the compound in Eldorado fairly soon after it started, thanks to the fact that I was in the town reporting on a random story and the guy I was interviewing happened to mention a compound with "these fundamentalist mormons" going up outside of town.

It sounded foreboding, and the last couple of weeks we've all come to know how.

One of the things that struck me was the area photo of the temple (with the "nuptial" rooms).

Dang, that's a green lawn for being out in the middle of nowhere near desert-like San Angelo. And we're in the middle of April. I can only imagine the thousands of gallons of water and hours of labor they had to pour on that sucker to get it to look like that, tho I can imagine it pretty well.

It brought to mind a story my brother told me while I was working in his lawn-care business. A friend of his in the same line of work had won a huge, $50,000-a-year-plus contract to tend the grounds of one of the mormon places of worship in Lubbock.

A contract like that will keep a man set for the year. But he soon regretted taking the job, because the mormon folks who ran the place were never happy with anything -- the lawn had to be immaculate to the point of other-worldliness, and trying to meet their needs had him running in circles.

To point out to the easily offended, I don't think that the modern Church of LDS has anything to do with the cult, other than the fact that they developed from the same group that moved into Utah back in the 1800s.

The random thought: I wonder if that culture spawned a rather strong obsession with lawns. The pioneers in Utah were able to survive only through massive and collective irrigation efforts to bring water to their farms. Maybe that somehow transformed to an immaculate lawn being "Godly."

No idea, just curious.

Sci-fi delicious

Just saw this:

Fox has given the green light to "Virtuality," a two-hour back-door pilot from "Battlestar Galactica" mastermind Ronald D. Moore.
The sci-fi project, from Universal Media Studios and producers Gail Berman and Lloyd Braun, is set aboard the Phaeton, Earth's first starship. It revolves around its crew of 12 astronauts on a 10-year journey to explore a distant solar system. To help them endure the long trip and keep their minds occupied, NASA has equipped the ship with advanced virtual-reality modules, allowing the crew members to assume adventurous identities and go to any place they want. The plan works flawlessly until a mysterious "bug" is found in the system.
"It's very much about what's fantasy and what's reality; what we do to escape our lives and what actually institutes our lives; are these things very different," UMS president Katherine Pope said.

Mmmmm ...

This should be good, but I need to put the should in italics. Moore might be burnt out, and Fox killed "Firefly" for no good reason.

I'm one of many who were never too keen on the holodeck in the Star Trek series. It offered too many easy outs for too many problems, and they never addressed the problem of exactly what happens to humanity when physical holograms are finally created.

I'm currently in the camp that says we're doomed. Your typical human has to decide between being in a fake world were he can do whatever he wants all the time or being in the real world and getting the typical weggie that reality gives every day. We don't stand a chance.

Hat tip: NRO

At the botanical garden

In Fort Worth, where the family spent part of Sunday.


We have a few pictures. It's required. Everybody -- brides, prom girls, new engagees, families with horribly ugly children -- were taking pictures of themselves at the Forth Worth Botanical Garden.


Sam now has a new way of getting around. I'm kinda excited by this, because it means I can stay in backpacking shape. After the boy gains about 10 more pounds.

About Hulu

It's been out there for a bit, but wanted to pass on a recommendation for Hulu.com.

Besides sports, I watch almost no TV nowadays. But I have watched a lot of stuff on-line.

I was going to TV network sites and watching a few shows, but the quality tended to suck. "Jericho" on CBS comes to mind. I got tired of watching the episodes because I got sick of a pause every six seconds.

Hulu.com is what you'd prefer these sites to do. It's obvious the networks don't take on-line programming seriously because they haven't invested the capital to make a smoothe-running system. The programs at Hulu run without a pause and the offerings are increasing daily. It's a combination of new and old, and they also have a few movies. It's all free -- you just have to watch a short commercial every 15 minutes or so.

I am not being paid to do this. Thanks.

Also, NBC's cancelation of "Journeyman" is a freakin' crime. Thanks again.

From Hell -- what makes a truly awful film

A guardian critic reviews the latest Paris Hilton film.

Actually, he doesn't review the film. Why bother, when you can instead write a lengthy meditation on some of the worst garbage Hollywood and other filmmakers have produced throughout the decades?

"A generically appalling film like The Hottie and the Nottie is a scab that looks revolting while it is freshly coagulated; but once it festers, hardens and falls off the skin, it leaves no scar. By contrast, a truly bad movie, a bad movie for the ages, a bad movie made on an epic, lavish scale, is the cultural equivalent of leprosy: you can't stand looking at it, but at the same time you can't take your eyes off it. You are horrified by it, repelled by it, yet you are simultaneously mesmerised by its enticing hideousness. A monstrously bad movie is like the Medusa: those who gaze on its hideous countenance are doomed, but who can resist taking a gander?"