Tuesday, February 28, 2006


Another fever spike this evening. Boy is this getting old. Ibuprofen knocks it down for 6-7 hours, then BOOM, through the roof. 102.7 at 10pm tonight. Kelli will stay home with THEBOY tomorrow.


I could be eerily quiet tomorrow. Wednesday is always busy for me at work, and having missed Tuesday, which is usually when I try to pull ahead a bit, could prove to be a problem.

SO, a survey for anyone who'd care to participate. Maybe my blog can do some entertaining without any input from me.



What is your nicest article of clothing? You know, I have a sweet linen shirt I like a lot. And it ran me about $3.99 at the Goodwill Store.

What's your favorite article of clothing? Oh man, where to start? My 10-year-old Rugged boots? My Nike polo made of that spaceman ventilated stuff? My running shoes? Know what... I'm just going with FLEECE. During our admittedly mild winters, any fleece stuff I own is like that extra layer of insulatory blubber I'm lacking. It's the only way I survive.

Do you have a good jacket/coat? Heh heh... I've got about 15. It's ridiculous. Each has its own designated temperature range, color scheme, preferred ensemble type... go ahead, make a gay joke. I don't care.

Is finding shoes you like a challenge? Nah, not really. Again, I've got maybe 15 pairs...

I can't believe I ever wore: Half shirts in the 80s. I'd say the Moosehead University shirt was a low point. Jeez, did I ever really have the abs for that? Yup. Long ago.

What was the first article of clothing you thought was cool? When I was about seven my parents sent off for a Spiderman t-shirt. I guess it took 6-8 weeks to arrive, and I was thrilled with that shirt, just thrilled. I can still remember the smell.

Are you too old to wear a concert t-shirt? No. I do try to limit where I wear them though.

What do you sleep in? Usually something hideous. I'm not above boxers, black socks and a t-shirt. But above all I must be WARM. I've been known to come to bed in sweats on a cold winter night. I'd much rather wake up too warm than too cold.

Ever dressed up like a superhero? As a kid I had a great Spider-man costume one Halloween.

So, Fredericks of Hollywood: Trashy fun, or just trashy? I'm sure there's something fun. Kelli and I will be glad to find out courtesy of a random gift certificate if you really want to know. Send it to my home address please.

A hot guy/girl looks really great in a: Shoot, give me a sun dress or a broomstick skirt on a cute woman. Casual elegance is sexy.

Are you comfortable in a bathing suit? Is anyone? No.

Undies: Comfort or speed? Comfort all the way. My days of tidy whiteys are over for good. God bless boxers and boxer briefs.

How do you keep your head warm in the winter? I'm not above a stocking cap, but really, I've got a pair of driver caps that work pretty well as cold-weather gear. One in black, one in brown... see the jacket bit above. Again, I am not gay. Much.

Is there anyone whose style you would like to emulate? Oh, not emulate so much, but I gotta say that our courier person, Mr. Al, pulls off a refined yet casual look I admire.

Any last thoughts before we wrap up? You know, I like a pleasantly plump gal, okay, but some physiques just do not work well with hip-hugger jeans. That tummy roll could be treated a bit more delicately, shall we say.


Have a good Wednesday, wherever you are.

We Was Robbed!

We got Dr. Mumbles instead! Dang. I shaved this morning, put on clean clothes, a splash of cologne... all for nothing!


The verdict: A virus. Got some meds, and some input on the reality of THEBOY's "never eat anything" policy. Seriously, these days we're lucky if he eats four bites of his favorite food. The doc isn't concerned, saying THEBOY is clearly NOT undernourished, as he's five inches taller than the average kindergartener.


I watched Dr. Mumbles' lips as he spoke today, and that helped. He only had to repeat about five things to me.

THEBOY went strangely mute when Dr. Mumbles asked him questions. Maybe he couldn't hear him either.

And as the doc left the room, he tousled THEBOY's hair and said, "You talk too much!" and look at me with a startlingly big belly laugh. Okay then.


Well, got some more important sitting around to do. Adios.

BB Am I, Inc. Operating from Hurst Office Today

Last night went well. We took THEKIDS to Logan's Roadhouse for a fine meal. THEGIRL was in good form, enjoying her meal, happy, getting chocolate syrup all over herself.

THEBOY was in better form. A cute blonde waitress stopped by to chat him up, telling him how cute he is, and how he's not too young for her. It was amusing enough...

...until he reciprocated.

This kid turned on the CHARM. Holy Ronald McDonald was he workin' it, culminating in--you ready for this?--him asking her for her number.

Okay okay... full disclosure: He'd been so charming and cute that we coached him into that for the laugh.

But she admitted that both our kids had made her night already.

And she wasn't even OUR waitress.


Teach me, Obi Wan.


After that I did NOTHING all evening. I could detail it for you, but really, it looked an awful lot like yours truly doing his best to wear a groove in this recliner using only butt cheeks.


Unfortunately, THEBOY woke up with a fever again. Crap. We see the doctor at 11:45.


Fortunately, Dr. S is a cutey. I mean, I prefer to see her, rather than Dr. Mumbles, for a number of reasons.

First, I can understand what she says. That's huge.

Second, she pays attention, listens, and offers good input. You don't always get that from a doctor. Admittedly, all three pediatricians in that office seem to genuinely care enough to do their jobs well.

Third, well, she's easy on the eyes.


And see, Dr. Mumbles, well, he MUMBLES (hence the bad pseudonym I've given him). He's an old-timer, a guy who gives off an "I've seen everything vibe." My hearing is slightly wrecked; I'd say I just plumb can't hear about one in 20 people.

Dr. Mumbles wins the prize.

Last time I was there, in fact, I was wrestling sick/anxious THEGIRL as he offered rapidly mumbled instructions that even after about three repetitions I simply could not understand.

Finally he put both hands on the counter, sighed, cocked his head sideways and gave me a grim look: "Where's yer wife?"

Apparently SHE can hear him.


Anyway, this'll give me a chance to study for Thursday's counseling exam.


So Koby Clemens hit a homer off his dad, then his dad buzzed him in retaliation. I'm not sure whether that's cute or kinda messed up.


Gotta go. I've got important sitting around to do.

Monday, February 27, 2006


Been on a prolonged stoner rock kick lately. I’d almost forgotten that last year when we bought the laptops we got a gift card to download a bunch of songs for free online somewhere. I forget where offhand.

So I dug out the card and got some treats.

First and foremost is Through the Eyes of Heathens by Dozer. It’s pretty damn sweet. I like Fredrik Nordin’s voice a lot. This is great music to jog to. Big sound, spaced-out lyrics, good rhythms… Sounds great loud.

I also picked up (er, downloaded) the Unida/Dozer Double EP, which sounds pretty good at first listen.

Got some scattered tracks from Nebula, The Atomic Bitchwax, Lowrider…

I guess music that’s good for getting stoned to is also good for trying to get runner’s high to, eh?


While sick this weekend THEBOY got to watch a ton of TV. He’s really enamored of the Power Rangers and Digimon at the moment.

He told Kelli some sort of crazy Digimon-related crap last night. It was something like, “If you look at your cellotelephone and there’s an eyeball don’t be scared but when you push the button a giant eyeball’s going to come out and take you away somewhere. Well, not a GIANT eyeball, but a BIG eyeball, and it will be scary.”



I bought him some new Power Rangers undies, in fact. I showed them to him at breakfast this morning, and said I’d been at Wal Mart and wanted to get him some cool new underwear.

“Did you?” he asked.

Uh yeah lil’ dude… right here… you know, the ones in my hand?


Happy birthday to THEGIRL. Seems like only last week I was spoon-feeding you milk because you would NOT take the bottle. Two weeks of me worrying that I was starving you to death. Ugh.


She’s my idol in some ways. Thinks she looks pretty all the time (and she DOES), even naked. She’ll look at herself and kiss her own lips in the mirror, happy as a clam to be a chubby toddler with no clothes and wet hair. Last night she jammed cake in her mouth, occasionally barking, “Hapbirday!” to herself and anyone within earshot.


Stayed up too late. Ugh. The swan swims at midnight.

No, you’re not supposed to understand that.


Happy Monday. And Hapbirday!

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Love is...

NOT that one-panel cartoon where those naked babies do those sappy things.


Love is making your spouse a tune mix, 15 years after you did it for the first time.

(God I hope that old tape I made her never re-surfaces. Why did I TALK between songs????)


The tunes:

"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan
"Do Ya" by Jason Falkner
"Canned Heat" by Jamiroquai
"Everybody Here Wants You" by Jeff Buckley
"When I Come Back Around" by Jamie Lidell
"Blitzkrieg Bop" by the Ramones
"Why Me, Lord?" by Johnny Cash
"Honesty" by King's X
"Virtual Insanity" by Jamiroquai
"Everything's Gonna Be Alright" by Anders Parker
"Listen to What the Man Said" by Paul McCartney
"I Want You Back in My Life" by Pugwash
"Mighty Mighty" by Earth, Wind & Fire
"I'll Look Around" by Madeleine Peyroux
"Too Hot to Handle" by UFO
"Queen of the Slipsteam" by Van Morrison
"I'd Rather Go Blind" by Marcia Ball


Good, More Good, and Not-So-Good

Good news: THEBOY slept all night, and in fact woke up with a fever of only 99. I was worried that, again, he'd wake up early, burning up and flushed. So we may be seeing the trailing edge of this particular illness.


More good news: THEGIRL turns two tomorrow. Yahoo! You should see the beautiful cake Kelli got her.

Bonus good news: She used the potty this morning! That was pretty cool.

(That is, THEGIRL used the potty. Not Kelli, who seems to have it down by now.)


The not-so-good: I've re-aggravated my calf injury. I did it on the treadmill, apparently. I don't understand how running four miles on a track left me feeling great and running six miles on a treadmill left me hobbled.

I went back and forth all morning, trying to decide whether I could run on this thing. I finally decided to give it a shot. I got dressed, strapped on the iPod, hit the track and... OW OW OW. I went about 50 yards. It simply hurts too much.

I don't get it I don't get it I don't get it.


SO I'll modify my workouts, see if I can spend more time on the elliptical machine. I'd like to think that since it's a zero-impact workout it won't further exacerbate this problem. Maybe in a week or two I can hit the track again.

It's just frustrating that my stamina is capable of doing what my limbs aren't.


At least it stopped raining. Seems like over the past few days we've caught up on all the rain we didn't get this winter. Wow.


Have a good weekend.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

A Survey When I Should Be Sleeping

I'm guessing tonight and/or tomorrow morning could be ugly with THEBOY still being sick and all. I should be in bed. Kelli reports that he feels cool as he's sleeping right now.


So, time to gank more stuff from Nadine.


So Far, In 2006, I Have…

[ ] broken a promise.
[ ] made a new friend.
[ ] fell in love
[ ] fell out of love
[ ] done something you swore never to do
[ ] lied
[ ] stole
[ ] went behind your parents back
[ ] cried over a broken heart
[ ] disappointed someone close
[ ] hidden a secret
[ ] pretended to be happy
[ ] got arrested
[ ] kissed in the rain
[ ] slept under the stars
[ ] gotten in a fight
[x] kept your new years resolution
[ ] forgot your new years resolution
[ ] met someone who changed your life
[ ] met one of your idols
[ ] changed your outlook on life
[x] sat home all day doing nothing
[ ] pretended to be sick
[ ] left the country
[ ] almost died
[ ] drank myself retarded
[ ] lost someone close to you
[ ] been to the hospital
[x] gotten closer to someone
[ ] streaked
[x] cried over someone
[ ] broken up with a gf or bf?
[ ] given up something important to you
[ ] talked on the phone all night
[x] learned something new about yourself
[ ] tried something you normally wouldnt try and liked it
[ ] made a change in your life
[ ] found out who your true friends were
[x] made a total fool of myself
[x] met great people

Saturday Night at the Infirmary

THEBOY is hanging in there. Basically, he feels kinda puny all the time, and every eight hours when the ibuprofen loses its effectiveness his fever spikes bigtime. He hit 103.4 at one point today.


I hate it when they're sick, I really do. It's "just" a fever, yet it makes you wonder... is this one of those antibiotic-resistant superbugs? How in the WORLD did they deal with fevers back in frontier days? I mean, I guess the only option was to ride them out. These days a fever is something we have good, extremely effective treatment for. We're spoiled. Back then you'd come out of it maybe blind or deaf. Or dead.


But it's a rainy, dreary weekend anyway. We're watching movies, napping, doing laundry... I'd hoped to catch the Texas Wesleyan baseball team this afternoon at 1pm, but between THEBOY's sickness and this weather it was not to be.


I like oatmeal. I eat a lot of it for breakfast. I put in some fruit, a little artificial sweetener, a little sugar and after a couple minutes in the microwave it's a cheap, nutritional, tasty way to start the day.

But if you keep your oatmeal on the top shelf, make sure the top shelf isn't too crowded. Yeeeah. I was reaching for the creamer, and somehow it wouldn't fit back in the space it came from. Like most men, I thought--That's okay, I'll just force it.


And so the 42 ounce can of oatmeal got squeezed out, and in fact, fell off the top shelf.

And as it fell, it did a somersault on the way down to the bottom shelf, where the lid popped off and half its contents poured forth everywhere. Shelves, floor, in the trash bag box, in the cereal box...

The Russian judge gave it a nine.


It was one heck of a mess to clean up. But it prompted me to clean out the pantry a bit anyway. No telling HOW old that bag of animal crackers was.


SO, Power Rangers Mystical Something or Another starts at 7pm. It's been hotly anticipated by THEBOY. I've got the DVD burner at the ready. And the ibuprofen.


Class was good today. Better than usual for a stats-intensive class.

We wrapped up with an in-class essay. He gives us a couple questions, and if we don't like them we can think of our own. Our answer has to be impressive, of course.

And I had sort of a half-formed good idea, something I'd been mulling for a while. It was my best bullet, I thought it was time to shoot.

So I wrote two pages of well-thought-out ideas, only to conclude at the end that I was WRONG. That is, there was a fundamental flaw in my approach, something I overlooked.

Something we'd covered in class today, in fact.

Nothing like answering your own question incorrectly.

There was no time to start over. I scribbled something about how I'd suddenly caught my own error, and made a quick reference to the right answer.

Well, I've had all As on assignments until now. Had to hit a banana peel at some point, eh?


Ya'll stay warm and dry.

How Not to Start the Weekend

THEBOY is sick. He had a fever of about 103 last night. We gave him medicine and he crashed, fever went down.



I stayed up until one downloading some good stoner rock.


But I woke up at about 6:30. Had a bad dream, just a terrible thing.

Thought I'd burn some of the new Dozer songs to CD. THEBOY woke up crying, asking for something to barf in. Crap.

Fever was 103.4. Yikes. Got some medicine in him, some fluids, a cool rag on his forehead...

His fever's gone down a couple degrees.


Gotta leave for school. Ya'll be good.

Friday, February 24, 2006


Just crazy busy here at work. Almost quittin' time, that's when it slowed down. As in one minute ago.


The good and the bad news.

Bad: THEBOY is home with a fever.

Good: THEKIDS return to their former daycare in a week.


And their parents return to the poorhouse posthaste... Eh, we'll figure something out.


Supposedly Alfonso Soriano and Nationals management met for a couple hours to hash out whether he'd play the outfield or second base. The result: Undecided. That is, no one budged.

This ought to be interesting.


Tired. More later probably. Have a good evening and a good weekend ya'll.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Daycare Update

Miss K has been dismissed.

Peckergate Update

(Memo from one Very Big Boss to another Very Big Boss):

I've taken down the memo. Just a little too risky--BB.


We're gonna figure something out. I've spoken to THEKIDS' former school. I'll pick up a rate sheet in the morning, see if I can have some time with the owner. Maybe that discounted rate he mentioned is still a possibility.


Current music: “Stain on the Sun” by the Bevis Frond


Tonight: Class. Whoo hoo!


Francisco Cordero felt a "twinge" in his shoulder some days ago, and has pulled out of the World Baseball Classic.

My prediction: Akinori Otsuka will be closing games for the Rangers by May.

And closing them well.


Nadine is going through some of the same hoo-ha I went through while working for BACS. And now she's got a review coming up. A show of hands here: How many of you ever found yourself slamming your fist on the desk during a review because of what the supe was saying to you? Anyone? Anyone? I did. Nadine could be joining me soon.


Work beckons. Be good.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy.



This is how change occurs.

I must admit that I've grown steadily more displeased with the daycare. It's been brought on by a number of things. Staff turnover is alarmingly high. And lately THEBOY's oppositional behavior has concerned me. He comes home telling me he's having three, five or more timeouts per day. The school hasn't said much to me about it, and that surprises me too. Is he like all the others? Is he in a difficult phase? Is it the school? Is it just him?

We've re-emphasized the value of NOT getting in trouble to him a lot lately. On days when he reports no timeouts, we're pleased. On those other days, of course, we're not.


So I picked him up today, and Miss K, a relative mainstay there, informed me that she'd nearly called me at lunch. I cocked an eyebrow.

She went on to explain that actually, the whole class was misbehaving, and that she actually just told them all that as a threat. Just before she told them all to "shut up," that is.

Excuse me?


I stopped her. "You told a class full of kids who were supposed to be having lunch to 'shut up'?"

Yes, she explained, and said she knew it was wrong, but that see, little [generic boy name] was behind it, and he just wouldn't LISTEN, and...

"That doesn't please me. We don't say that in our household. We do NOT talk to each other that way."

I kept my cool and made my points quite clearly: THIS WON'T DO.


I bumped into one of the administrators on the way out, and she knew about the incident. In fact, she said that Miss B had heard it, and immediately went into the classroom to stop Miss K's behavior.

In my mind, it looks like two grownups having an ugly confrontation in front of a roomful of children.


The administrator told me not to worry, as she thought this meant Miss K wouldn't be working there much longer.

Ah. More turnover.


SO, what the plan is right now I don't know. Except that I will contact their previous school. I had a good rapport with the owner. Just before we left, he offered us a discount. It wasn't enough. Perhaps there's some way to swing SOMETHING.

I don't intend to just start hopping the kids from school to school. No way. But we've got to figure something out.


Wish us luck.


By the way... no timeouts today.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Gospel Fans Do Not Need Natural Male Enhancement

In case you wondered, I can say with great certainty that yes, all of my counseling/addiction professors have had zero use for Dr. Phil.


I like the Rangers’ signing of Erubiel Durazo. The guy always could hit. He had Tommy John surgery last season, hence his limited market value now (he’s signed a minor league/spring training invitation deal). He says he’s been 100% since December, and I wouldn’t mind seeing his bat at work at the Ballpark in Arlington.


Heh… tracks from the “upcoming” (damn, can’t I do more than use quotation marks to indicate what bullshit I think that is???) Guns ‘n’ Roses album Chinese Democracy (snickering here) have been leaked.

I am streaming WAAF in Boston just because I’m curious.


Jeez, now it’s playing Creed. NeverMIND. Jeez, I’ll play something else. I wasn’t THAT curious.


From the “it’s funny because it’s true” department:

There’s a big stink here. Seems we ran a pecker pill commercial in the middle of a gospel music awards broadcast.

And for once it had NOTHING to do with me.


Seriously, though, the spot only came to us with the name of the parent company attached. No restrictions, nada. Shoot, half the General Mills spots we run have restrictions (“Don’t run in South Park! Don’t run in 70s Show!”), so you’d think someone at Pecker Pills, Inc. would have had the snap to, oh, keep us in the loop or something.

That’s a formula for exactly this sort of situation, which I feel compelled to call Peckergate.

Actually, it’s been my experience in broadcasting that, no matter where I’ve worked, communication is lacking. It just is.


Better scoot. Have a good evening.

Briefly. Geeky.

Current music: “Dr. Jimmy” by the Who.


This is pretty bitchin’. It’s an interview with the person who discovered the correlation between meditation and thicker grey matter.


Ultra-geeky pych joke as a followup to the grey matter bit:

Each subject, as it turned out, used the mantra, “Correlation does not necessarily indicate causality…”


Need coffee need coffee need coffee need coffee…


Didn’t sleep well.


Spring training trip is coming… spring training trip is coming…

Monday, February 20, 2006

Give Me Speed!

Finally got to run tonight. That is, I hit the rec center since it's still upper 30s and humid... makes for bitter cold.

So, to the treadmill I went.

Was shooting for five "miles" and got into a rhythm and went six. Good sweat, good tunes... wow. I got lost in this cycle. For a while I found myself thinking I could go all night. An entire roomful of exercisers came and went while I did my thing. At times it was ecstatic.


But I'm not used to using the treadmill, and apparently whatever I set it on made it think I only wanted to go an hour. So my reverie was broken when it kept telling me, "Cool down!" and dropping my speed suddenly. I'd jam my thumb on the speed button--no no no! Give me speed!


Got to see my boy Llorca today. Had a damn fine lunch at some noodle joint in Carrollton. Always good to see Guids.


After that Kelli and I hit Starbucks to--ready for this exciting tidbit?--study! Yes, we had some treats and went nose-first into the books. I was glad to get that done. We swung into Old Navy to get some clothes for the kids. We got THEBOY a couple great shirts. One's got a huge fly print and one's got a grasshopper. Completely gnarly, and completely great.

THEGIRL got some utterly cute pink overalls. Hoo boy. Straps and buttons and things I'll curse when changing her pullups, but she'll look cute as a bug at least.


Back to work tomorrow. Marking time.

when an addict is truly alone

34 and rainy. I can't run in this crap.


It's 100% Monday. At least I'm off.


Got the kids to daycare. One had a suspicious diaper and one had a surly attitude and said his throat's sore. I hope they'll make it through the day.


Temptation is funny business, eh? I mean, it's a challenge for most of us. Put something you want in front of you and most any person will at least give it a fleeting thought: Could I?

Maybe you'd succumb fully, prepared to deal with whatever the fallout is. Use your imagination. Or maybe you'd just try it on for a little while. See if the idea fits. Revel in being bad, in giving in. Is being bad more fun than being good?

I think an argument could be made that giving up drugs or alcohol is only the second best thing an addict can do. Getting clean/sober doesn't occur in a vacuum. Though no one can MAKE you do it, other people can and do factor in.

"I want to save my marriage (career, health, etc.)"

"I want to live to be with my family."

That kind of thing.

But isn't resisting temptation the greatest thing an addict can do? Having cleaned up, taken a big step, made an honest attempt at a better life, isn't it more amazing to face temptation and walk away?

That's when an addict is truly alone. If temptation came along and you found yourself courting this thing, this urge to screw up, that's when true strength of character shows.

If you have been addicted to something and you clean up, your friends and family are there to support you, send their love, pat you on the back.

If you spent some time on the verge of relapse and resisted successfully, it's all you. No prizes are given out because you thought seriously about getting loaded but didn't. You could tell a friend or spouse that hey, you were gripped by temptation yesterday but walked away. You might get words of encouragement, or you might get chastised for allowing yourself to consider it.

Perhaps this is the real value in a group like AA. Confessing what's happened--or nearly happened--in a roomful of people who share this problem. Successfully battling temptation all occurs in one's head, but there are folks who would understand after the fact.


I suppose there would also be terrific value in attending a meeting while in the throes of temptation.

Jeez, this is starting to make sense to me for the first time.


If you read all that, thanks for bearing with me. I'll resume fart jokes and coffee criticism shortly.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Bill Graham Presented

Current music: "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor. This version was recorded May 29, 1970 at Berkeley Community Theater.

Have you heard about the release of these massive Bill Graham archives? I thought it was a hoax when I first read it, but after some poking around I've learned that it's legit.

Seems the man was a pack rat extraordinaire. He kept posters, tickets, backstage passes and... ready for this? He recorded shows. Audio, video... supposedly there's audio of about 7000 concerts that's just plumb unreleased prior to now.

Now, I can't claim to be excited about hearing anything Moby Grape recorded at the Fillmore West, okay. But Graham was in business until his death in the early 90s. He recorded Hendrix, Cream, Elvis Costello, Neil Young, Nirvana, Sex Pistols, the Who, BB King... I'll bet there's some great stuff.

Now, the site is http://www.wolfgangsvault.com

They've got streaming media I'm just starting to check out, something called Vault Radio. Right now is a Zeppelin show from 1969... it's early enough in their career that Robert Plant is introducing the band members by name.

The FAQ says they're aiming to release CDs, downloads and podcasts this summer.

E-o is in the House

That's not some hip hop song title; it simply means that our outdoor cat, Oreo, is inside because it's too darn cold to leave him outdoors. Even though my heart is three sizes too small, I still have one.


Thing is, THEGIRL loves the cat. I mean LOVES him. And she shows it by picking him up by whatever she can grab and dragging him around like a sack of potatoes. He tolerates it for some reason. His presence in the house is a great treat for her.

For a while she wouldn't let him leave his food dish. You could almost sense him saying, "Look kid, I'm really full" as she picked up his hindquarters and dragged him back over. She told him, "I love you E-o" ("Oreo" is hard for a two-year-old to pronounce) and blew him kisses as he ate.


Now he's sitting on the newspaper, trying to act invisible, hoping the Elmo video will buy him some peace.

Good luck, E-o.


THEBOY is at a friend's home, having been invited for a sleepover yesterday evening. We slept more than eight hours (though Kelli's back in bed now), and you know, it's a peaceful morning. I've got another cup of coffee calling my name.


Oreo just interfered with THEGIRL as she went to throw something in the trash can, so she dragged him across the kitchen floor by his tail. I can't believe he tolerates that.


I know I shouldn't complain about winter much. Some of the folks who stop by come from/live in places where winters are genuinely harsh.

But a couple days of 28 degrees sure screw up my running schedule. I'm off tomorrow, and I'm told we'll peak at about 48. I'll probably hit the trail at that very moment. That ain't bad running weather.


We watched Corpse Bride last night. It was fun, creative, well-done, and will probably never cross my mind again.

Oh, it was good and all. I seem to recall that it's based on... a Russian folk tale? Anyone know for sure? It's sure put together like one.

The world of the dead is portrayed as having comparatively more color and life than the world of the living. The animation is amazing... but still I found myself thinking, DAMN, Tim Burton... something is WRONG with you. Necrophilous personality indeed.


I've received some kind emails from some of you lately about something weighing on my mind. I have genuinely been uplifted and touched. Thank you. It helped.


Coffee. Bye.


[Edit: Here's a good story on MMA's growth and popularity: http://www.rrstar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060218/SPORTS/102180026]

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Take the BB Quiz!

Click to take a 20-question test about me: http://www.yourblogquiz.com/sendq/?q=52945

How'd you do? Here's the scoreboard:


Sorry no hyperlinks... darn Mac.

Friday, February 17, 2006

The Lawyer and his Big Gulp Buddy

We have a three-day weekend, so we’re really busy here. On top of that, my WORST CLIENT EVER is screwing up everything they touch. Everything.


Had to clarify something for THEBOY yesterday. He’s been listening to the Beatles in his room lately. He woke up singing, “She loves to, yeah yeah yeah.”

“Listen, son… that ain’t exactly correct…”


Cold and gross here. At least it’s Tex Mex night.


Long ago, when I was fresh out of college, I was scrambling to work in production. Often I’d take whatever gig came along, like blowing up balloons on a commercial shoot, or holding a boom mic for 4 hours. Not once did I turn a gig down. Can you blame me? All I wanted was to get my name out, start using whatever route I could into more complicated and satisfying work. Really.


So I got hired to be the driver for a notable Dallas attorney who shares my first name, Brian. His last name is something I hesitate to use here, though if you take the first letter of the first word in each sentence in the paragraph above, that’ll spell it out.

(I’m such a geek).


BL had a commercial shoot down in Fredericksburg. I was to pick him up at the airport and drive him down. Didn’t really have a bloody thing to do with making the commercial itself, but hey, it was a paycheck. Kelli had a fairly new Buick LeSabre that was a good road car, and perfectly suitable for the job.


I made up a sign with BL’s name on it and stood at the gate. His plane was late, naturally, and I could already see our commute time slipping away.

And as each person came off the plane, I tried to guess which one would be him. I’d never seen him before, so I was imagining a lawyer-lookin’ type. I’d rule them out in my head, one by one as they disboarded: No, no, no, maybe-but-nah-he-kept-walking…

And the FIRST one that found me thinking, Oh God not HIM oh PLEASE don’t let it be this guy… yeah. That was the one.


Black polyester slacks, Hawaiian shirt with several buttons undone tucked into them, gold chains over a furry chest, and portly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. [BL], I’ll be your driver today…”

He handed me his bag without a word and kept going.


Keeping up with him in the airport wasn’t easy. For a big guy he could MOVE.


At the car, he took a seat and I said, “Okay, we can listen to whatever music you’d like. There’s the radio, or I brought some tapes—“

“No music,” he said. He cracked open a paperback and started reading.

I was kind of thankful at that point.


We got on the freeway. At the first exit he blurted out, “You thirsty? I’m thirsty. Take me to that gas station down there.”


There was not a parking spot to be found, however. As we circled, he peered out the window at some women.

BL: “Uh oh. Lesbians.”

Me: “What? How do you know?”

BL: “I’ve got a special sense for it. I call it ‘lesbodar’.”

(Yes, he managed to screw up the old “gaydar” joke)


He finally instructed me to park in a handicapped spot, and said he’d pay if I got a ticket.


We went in, and I grabbed a bottle of water. BL grabbed a one-liter Pepsi and a family-size bag of chips, both of which he opened and proceeded to consume while waiting in line. He offered to buy me a soda.

Me: “No thanks, but this water will do. I haven’t eaten, and soda will just upset my stomach.”

BL: “Listen, if you want to make a million dollars, you’re going to have to expect an ulcer.”


We hit the road, and I was getting antsy about our travel time. He had his drink and snacks, and started chatting about whatever crossed his mind. He talked about how kids can really ruin the seats in a Mercedes. He blathered on and on, and though he gave off a high-tension vibe, he was nice enough.


I’m inclined to blame the wrong turn I took on his incessant chatter, in fact, but it was probably my own fault. Early in the drive to Fredericksburg there’s a Y in the road. I took the wrong fork.

I’d driven for nearly an hour before I realized it.

I started apologizing, and I drove about 90 as I doubled back. I made up the lost ground in remarkable time, and we were on schedule to possibly be not too terribly late.


There wasn’t a minute to spare, but my bladder was about to burst. I was having images of astronomer Tyco de Brahe, who died of complications that arose when he refused to excuse himself from a dinner party to pee.

I started apologizing some more, but I also didn’t offer a choice: “We’ve gotta pull over at this 7-11.”

Once inside, BL asked if I wanted something to drink. He’d had a liter of Pepsi, and in my Tyco-like state I decided to pass. He said, “Okay, I’ll just get a Big Gulp.”


The sign on the men’s room read, “Out of order.”

Aw crap.

This was a crisis, though. I pushed the door open to find an overflowed toilet and mop in a restroom with a couple inches of water on the floor.

I’m sorry. I am sorry, and I was sorry. I HAD TO GO.

So I went.


We got back in the car, and I resumed my apologies.

BL said, “Hey, relax. We’re cool. You’re my Big Gulp buddy, man.”

I appreciated the sentiment.


We got to the shoot. A tank was parked atop a crushed Porsche, and four attorneys from across the state took turns barking their dialogue from on top of it:

“Have you been in a car accident? Call me today!”

Four attorneys, four markets, one shoot.

BL went to change into his suit. He emerged very quickly. He climbed the tank, spent just a few minutes shooting and re-shooting his lines, climbed down and said, “Let’s go.”

I swear, I don’t think he had time to pee when he went to change. At this point we’d been together a couple hours, and he’d had a liter of Pepsi and a whole Big Gulp.


He checked his watch: “There’s a 5:30 flight I’d rather make if I can. Do your best to get me there. I’ll pay if you get a speeding ticket.”


We FLEW down the highway. He chatted here and there, asked my opinion about whether I thought his commercial would reach his market. I had no idea, but I said yes.


At the airport I fetched his bag from the trunk. He jammed a $20 bill in my hand and left without a word.


15 years later I’m scheduling BL’s spots on my station.


Time for lunch. Happy Friday.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Thursday Night

It was one heck of a busy day at work. You know, on a day like this I can't help but be reminded that when we screw up, the hammer comes down hard, but when we bust our butts and do great work we don't hear a bloody thing.


The front's blowing in. Gettin' chilly out there. I'm glad I ran last night.


Class tonight was a tad disappointing. I guess I wasn't the only one just worn out, as everyone was unusually quiet.

And the topic, Native Americans, was one I was keenly interested in.

But the whole thing lacked zip, and it was clear that it's just not a subject Dr C is all that familiar with.


I thought I'd share a few things I learned from the text though:

From 1500 to about 1900, they experienced a 98% reduction in population and a 97.5% reduction in territorial lands.

Today, unemployment ranges from 60 to 90 percent.

In 1989, 34% lived below the poverty line. This was nearly double the number of any other ethnic group.

Average life expectancy is 55 years.

73.2% of Indian traffic fatalities are alcohol-related.

Indians were not granted the right to vote until 1946.

Their suicide rate is double the national average.


We've been reading Native Son by Richard Wright. Has anyone else read this? It's this novel about Bigger Thomas, a young black man who murders a white woman. It's brutal, and we're told it "changed the world."

It's the subject of much debate in class, and in fact, some of us are going to the prof's house Saturday night for an extended discussion of the book.


I wonder how it's going in Surprise?


Ya'll take care.

Welcome to Survey City

Ganked from Nadine:

1. Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work?
Wait... what? Did I owe the CD rent money or something?

2. Have you ever puked at a bar or club?
I've puked in the grass outside some clubs before even walking in. That's what the term "nightclub jitters" means to me.

3. What’s the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated?
My wife is three years older than I, and that's it. Now... when I was 18 a 40-year-old married woman set her sights on me. Fool, er, wise young man that I was, I passed.

4. Have you ever dated someone you met online?:
No no no. I've been with the same woman since 1991. Our relationship pre-dates "online."

5. Have you ever smoked pot at a concert?

6. Have you ever dated/fooled around with a coworker?
No, but when I was the stockboy at Wieners (you read right) I had a massive, not-the-least-bit-hidden flirtation with a coworker. Ah, Veronica Garcia... she was a beauty. Wouldn't go out with me since I had a girlfriend and all.

7. If so, how did that turn out?
Darn Veronica and her scruples. Nothing happened.

8. Ever been involved in a hit & run?
What the hell kind of question is this? Should I look for a later question asking where the body is? Cripes. And NO, I have not.

9. Were you popular in high school?
You know, I had a rather modest level of popularity. I was known through journalism, and I had a fair number of friends. Now, plenty of folks hated my guts for the
reviews I wrote, but really, I remember those times pretty fondly.

10. Have you ever been on a blind date?
No, but once I asked a girl to act out a scene from The Miracle Worker naked.

11. Are looks important?
On the one hand, YES. I'm a guy; we're visually stimulated. If you don't get my attention with looks, there's nothing to proceed with. On the other, a very wise man named Doug Briscoe taught me that beauty comes in lots of forms. I never made the mistake of getting wrapped up in the blonde-haired generic beauties who look like they all came out of a Pretty Girl Machine. So let's just say that the opposite sex
is a rather colorful and varied palette to me.

12. Do you have any friends that you’ve known for 15 years or more?

13. By what age would you like to be married?
I have been married since 1993.

14. Does the number of people a person’s slept with affect your view of them?
Whoa whoa WHOA. Yes. Especially since it's almost always more than me. Teach me, Obi Wan Kenobi.

15. Have you ever sacrificed yourself so your friend can get in good with a person of the opposite sex?
Sacrificed myself? What the heck does that mean? Take a meat cleaver to my pinky and offer it to some Egyptian deity? Um, I guess the answer is no.

16. Have you ever drank milk that was past the expiration date?
Tricky question right in the middle of all this dating stuff. You're a sly one, magical mystery interviewer. And the answer is HELL NO.

17. Have you ever dated/messed around with a friend’s ex?

18. Ever mess around with a married person?
Yes! My wife!

19. Are you a good tipper?

20. What’s the most you have spent for a haircut?
Uh... $20 maybe? I don't have that much hair.

21. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?
Yep. Not currently though. Dr Crook's a brilliant man, but he just doesn't do it for me like that.

22. Do you know all the words to the first verse of
Ice Ice Baby?
No. Do YOU know any words at all to any Albert "The Iceman" Collins songs? HMM? I do. Try me.

23. Have you ever had crispy bangs?
I don't know what this is. Is it... a doughnut? Oh, wait... this is when you're 15 and trying to be cool by lighting a cigarette on an oven burner while the cig is still IN YOUR MOUTH and you lean over and the flames give you crispy bangs. Right? So yes.

24. What was the worst style of the 80’s?
Mullet. Which I invented.

25. Have you ever peed in public?
I'm a guy. It's a requirement.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

A Month and a Day

after the race, I've resumed working out.


Let's see... a lot has happened since that day. 24 hours later I was queasy with a stomach bug that took a couple days to fully manifest itself, and another week to go away.

Just about the day that quit my throat got scratchy. That cold took a few weeks to get over.


I was positively BUZZING to get back out for a run. Tonight, it was on. Had my iPod loaded with good stoner rock, good shoes on, new shorts... I like my running gear.

It's 70 degrees and very windy. I was pleased to go right into a compact running stroke that felt natural. I hadn't lost my mechanics at all. I wasn't sure how far I'd go, but I figured anything less than a couple miles was a copout.


I startled a rabbit out on the track. That is, the critter saw me and started to bolt before he clearly thought, Shoot--this turkey couldn't catch me anyway.


The breakdown:

Stamina: Excellent. I was pleased to have so much, in fact.
Breathing: Very good, but not perfect. Still some lingering slime from the cold and possible allergies.
Calf: Just about perfect. Maybe getting sick did me the favor of finally allowing me to get over that injury.
Joints: Knees were good, but heck, they took a pounding. They were a little sore. Lower back was too.

I ran four miles. I finished with a nice 100 yard sprint.

(Alice didn't do too bad, eh Whit?)


My daughter is sick. Stomach bug. No fever, and not doing her Linda Blair impression... just doing unholy things to diapers.

I hope she can go to school tomorrow.


THEBOY, a day after being remarkably oppositional, was quite good tonight. We needed that.


Tomorrow is class. Can't wait.

Ya'll take care.


Current music: “You Borrowed” by Helmet


I need to have a talk with a coworker about how he spoke to me a couple days ago.

I’m not good sometimes at telling when someone’s been rude to me. I’ve decided, though, that I need to clarify for him that I don’t appreciate what he did. I don’t intend to become his adversary, but I will if necessary.

Let's Get Lost

I dreamed my teeth were falling out.


More Youtube stuff. I’ve found a cool compilation of Chet Baker clips.

I mean, some of my heroes I’ve only seen in still images, you know? To see and hear him play… heck, to SPEAK even… it means a lot to me. He speaks in those smooth, buttery tones you’d expect.

Looks like hell though. This was a man whose substance abuse problems caused him to age awfully, just awfully.

He talks a bit about the incident in California where he was “jumped by five guys” and lost his upper front teeth. Not good for a trumpet player, of course. It took him three years to re-learn to play with a plate and re-emerge on the pro circuit.


Maybe these clips are from the Baker documentary Let’s Get Lost. Elvis Costello makes an appearance. Someone really ought to release that on DVD.


At Razzoo’s last night were a man who looked a lot like Samuel L. Jackson and a woman who looked a lot like Salma Hayek.


Get better, Nadine.

Time for the Four Sweetest Words in the English Language:

Pitchers and catchers report!


Hold on, boys, I'll be there as soon as I can!


Check it out: Ultraman is coming to DVD!

(Thanks for the tip, Bruiser)


I think something's wrong with our scale. I've run all of twice this year, and this morning, fearful that my recent, gluttonous ways were packing pounds back on, I weighed myself.


That can't be right. That's 10 pounds lighter than I was two weeks ago on the doctor's scale. Eh, I see him Monday for a followup anyway. This can't be right. Can it?

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

The Return of Grouchalina

Happy Valentine’s day, everyone. It’s kind of a shame that if anyone gives me chocolate, it won’t be in the shape of something living. That is, Easter has the bunny, Christmas has Santa… but Valentine’s Day only has Cupid, and we don’t tend to get candy shaped like him.

And I say it’s a shame because I like to take those human or animal-shaped figurines and drop them in a cup of hot coffee. In my mind I imagine them moaning, “Heeeeeeelp me, I’m meeeeeeeelting!”

Then they DO melt, and I drink up the chocolate coffee results of my torturous fantasy.


Okay, I just made that up. But I find it amusing.


Grouchalina is one of THEGIRL’s aliases. Sometimes that kid can cast a black cloud a mile wide.

Between her arbitrary pissiness after school yesterday and THEBOY’s newer, even tougher “never eat anything but cheese” policy, an hour after we’d been home we felt like we’d been in a war.


THEBOY likes to wake up his sister in the mornings lately. This morning he zipped off with his mother to do so, while I read the paper and ate my breakfast.

Now picture this:

Grouchalina emerges from her room wearing only a diaper, scowling, with jubilant THEBOY and Kelli in tow. She makes a beeline for the breakfast table, grabs my juice (despite my feeble protests), and CHUGS it all right there. She slams the cup down and starts crying.

“Uh, help yourself,” I say.


Yesterday I myself had trouble waking up. I lay there for two or three minutes, which is an eternity for “hit the ground running” BB. I stretched, blinked, took a few deep breaths, and swung my legs over the side.

There, crouching in the semi-darkness was THEBOY.

“I had a nightmare.”

This time, at least, I didn’t clench my fists like I wanted to pummel him. And I’m glad to report that I didn’t shriek like a girl. I merely had my lifespan shortened by a decade. I don’t know how long he’d been there, but he’d been utterly silent. Scared the bejeebers outta me.


And that, folks, is a snapshot into our lives. Kelli Dee, it’s you and me trying to be ringleaders over this circus. You’re a terrific mother, partner and wife. I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Oh Dear?

If I pay $6 can I take a nap?

Boring here. I shouldn’t say that. I should WORK AHEAD. I should have such constant drive and determination that, when the normal workload lightens up, I plow FORWARD, to find new, additional work to fill up these minutes.



Went home for lunch since I couldn’t find anyone to join me at the Asia Buffet. And in 20 minutes of changing channels I couldn’t find anything worth watching for 20 seconds. Well, there was a shot of some lions attacking a water buffalo. Cooooool. But then it went to commercial, and I gave up.

I did seize the opportunity to glue THEBOY’s model airplane back together. That snap-together job we assembled last week didn’t withstand the rigors of being carried around by a five-year-old very well.

Oddly, as it disintegrated in the van during our trip yesterday, with each successive part that came off he said, “Oh dear.”


Oh dear?


A joke I just received:

A 6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom. "You know what?" says the 6 year old. "I think it's about time we started cussing." The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with hell and you say something with ass." The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.

When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, "Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios." Slap! Wack! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his
rear with every step. His Mom locks him in his room and shouts, "You can stay there until I let you out!"

She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?" "I don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your fat ass it won't be Cheerios."


Some shots from last year’s trip to spring training. The next trip is on, and it starts a month from Friday. I’m ready.


Lance Nix takes some warmup cuts.


Kevin Mench on deck


Vlad Guerrero. I'm sure they miss him on Krypton.


Kenny Rogers takes a stroll. Take a good look around, Kenny. It's the last time you'll break camp with this organization.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Sunday Night Wrapup

A few scattered bits as a weekend wrapup.


THEBOY has a new habit that just busts me up. Whenever he's playing like he's in a fight or acting tough, he says, "I'm gonna go Captain Crunch on you!"

And that just kills me! He says it with the same conviction as "I'm 'bout to get medieval on yo ass" or something. I'm really not sure if he knows who Captain Crunch is. I gather he got this from school.


Good trip to Corsicana today. It went exactly as I'd hoped: We had really good food, got our taxes done (big refund!), I had a nap, and we came home. Perfect.


Well, the girl was involved in an SPI today. That's a "spontaneous puke incident." This is, she barfed unexpectedly, showed no ill effects, and was fine before and after. Kids are so weird.


I napped in the same room THEBOY was in. He was glued to Toon Disney today. I put in the earplugs and crashed, as THEGIRL was napping in the front room.

At some point while I slept he came over and kissed me on the cheek. Very sweet.


Have a good week.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Livin' Large in Hurst

Saturday night, and the wife and I are both nose-first in the laptops. We're livin' large, eh?


It's been a good weekend. Work yesterday was hard, in case you couldn't guess from my babbling post near quittin' time.

After that we went out for Tex Mex, as usual. The kids were good. Once they were in bed I wrote a short paper for school and did some reading. I got my second wind courtesy of more iced coffee from Starbucks.


After years of going to Starbucks, I think I finally got a promotion yesterday.

That is, I've often seen other guys in there who get called by their first names. Cute baristas ask them about their hobbies, what's going on for the weekend. Me, I spend about $800 a month in there and still I get asked how to spell "BB" when I place my order. Ugh.

But there's one especially nice gal who works there, and last week, when she thought I ordered a caramel drink of some sort, she gave me a quizzical look and said, "You usually get a drip."

Ah... step one: Remember my drink.

And yesterday the same gal greeted me with a warm smile and said, "Hey... YOU!"

Step two: Demonstrate that you recognize me, even with some tiny gesture.

Now I just need for them to associate my name with my face.


Incidentally, I go with BB instead of Brian while there because:

(A) When I've used Brian, they often think it's Ryan. Then they actually call for Ryan when my drink is ready, and I look around for this Ryan schmo to show up for his drink. When he doesn't, I steal it. Turns out he's got great taste in drinks.

(B) When they DO hear that it's Brian, inevitably there actually IS another Brian in there.


A lot of my peers at Tx Wesleyan have fallen into calling me BB, and that's cool with me. Brian, BB... whatever works. Not sure why they did, but you know, that's the beauty of a built-in nickname: You can't force it. If you could, I'd be "Knuckles" or something.

Okay, just joking.

But the successful nickname will manifest itself spontaneously.

And that concludes my thesis on nicknames.


Speaking of school... hoo boy, how long ago was it that I was all goo-goo eyed over Dr. Crook's wonderful professorly goodness? Today's class, which he insists on calling "stats on Saturday," was a beating. I still enjoy his antics, his examples, and his talent for pulling the students into a lecture and getting good participation out of them.

But really, I can't claim to ever enjoy a stats lecture. I guess Dr. C just keeps it from being the sort of experience that makes me want to claw my eyes out.


I got invited to Hooters last night. A client was having some sort of wing ding at the one in Grapevine and invited me to come along. I think I told her I had to wash my hair or something.


Had a fine lunch at some barbecue joint today, then hit the movie theater with the kids to see Curious George. Well, THEY saw it at least. I paid my $6 and promptly slept through most of the movie. I'm told the kids enjoyed it.


After that the girls napped while I surfed and THEBOY watched some TV. We taped an episode of Power Rangers, and that's got him all excited. You know, it's cheeseball and all, but it reminds me of Ultraman, which Whit and I loved so much as kids.

I must admit that in my five-odd (VERY odd--badoom!) years as a parent, no kids' TV show has genuinely gotten on my nerves. Not Barney, Elmo, Veggie Tales, Wiggles, Power Rangers. Nothing. I don't know what to make of that, really.

I do find it odd that THEBOY seems determined to sit through even the commercials on shows we've taped. Dude... they're advertising metal detectors and Franklin Mint commemorative Ben Franklin coins. Let's fast-forward.


The evening's been pretty uneventful. I did make a couple stabs at getting a babysitter so we could have a Valentine's date, but had no luck.


I'm pretty much ready to resume working out. I haven't done a thing since the race because I've been sick, and that's been frustrating. That was in mid-January. But my cough is just about gone, finally. Gotta start training for the Big D in April.


Tomorrow we'll head to Corsicana to get our taxes done. Keeping our fingers crossed for a nice return, lemme tell ya.

Have a good one.

Friday, February 10, 2006


Your Candy Heart Says "First Kiss"

You're a true romantic who brings an innocent hope to each new relationship.
You see the good in every person you date, and you relish each step of falling in love.

Your ideal Valentine's Day date: a romantic dinner your sweetie cooks for you

Your flirting style: friendly and sweet

What turns you off: cynics who don't believe in romance

Why you're hot: you always keep the romance alive

Segues, Pinetop et al, HR's Backflip, the Bill, and some Pumpkins

Today’s disturbing Launch segue: From “(We Are) the Road Crew” by Motorhead to “Colour My World” by Chicago.


Been digging up stuff at YouTube a lot. How long has this been around? It’s GREAT. This morning I’m watching some amazing Bad Brains clips. There’s live stuff from ’79! Watch a pre-dread HR do a backflip at the end of “At the Movies.” Or their video for “Soul Craft.” Greatness.


Today’s great Launch segue: From “Goin’ Down Slow” by Sunnyland Slim to “Murmur Low (aka Big Fat Mama)” by Pinetop Perkins.



Pinetop, in fact, is playing in Grapevine, TX (which is near me) one day soon… I think it’s next week. There’s a bill with him, Honeyboy Edwards, Robert Jr Lockwood… And I can set foot in the door for no less than $45.

I’ve seen Pinetop, thankfully. This guy is an old-school Chicago pianist. Played on Muddy’s Hard Again album. I’d love to see Lockwood, but as it turns out, the transition these guys have made from juke joint stalwarts to folk museum pieces put them out of my price range. Shame.


459.12 to fix the car. It could have been worse, right? Right? Funny, I don’t feel that… victorious.


I’ve been enjoying Gish-era Smashing Pumpkins lately. I really can’t stand anything from after that much, and Billy Corgan’s voice can be grating. But those big, trippy guitar songs, those sounds… Man, Butch Vig can really coax some great sounds.

The latest High on Fire, Blessed Black Wings, is good evidence of that. BIG sound. Huevos tan grandes, man.


I love the Pumpkins’ “Drown,” from the Singles soundtrack. It’s about an 11-minute song, and maybe eight of those minutes are comprised of a wailing feedback solo run through a long digital delay. Oooooooh the colors, man.

Really, it sounds like whales mating or something. If the whales were into bondage.

(Jeez, what is IN this coffee?)


Current music: “Looking at You” by the MC5


I need to go get some food. Ya’ll be good.

Hoo boy, big problem

What a day Thursday was.


Kelli called me just as I was about to leave for the chiropractor, saying her car was acting funny. I've seen a couple suspicious things lately, so I wasn't surprised. I figured she had a power steering problem. I postponed my appointment.

So I was calling stores along her route to SMU to see if they had power steering fluid. It was a quick, pinpoint search that found the fluid for me.

She had a test and decided she'd fetch it afterwards.

But a quick check under the hood showed the real problem: The serpentine belt was just hanging loose. Hoo boy, big problem. That doesn't just happen spontaneously, you know?

And it also doesn't get easily rectified in a college parking lot.

(Side note: Whoever designed this car so that an ENGINE MOUNT has to be undone to change the damn belt was... was... something I won't say here. Changing this belt shouldn't be that hard, and prior to owning this car I did it myself.)


So I managed to scramble out a wrecker for her and get the car to Jack's Auto Repair. It's walking distance from the house, which has proved mighty convenient a couple times.

Jack had a quick look, and it looks like the pulley that keeps tension on the belt just spontaneously froze up. Maybe the bearings went bad or something. I could be wrong, but that doesn't sound like a horribly expensive repair job.

I scooted out of work early (having worked through lunch anyway), and took the kids home. I changed and headed to school.


Dr. Crook is easily one of the three best professors I've ever had. I'd take anything from this guy; Elizabethan basket-weaving, whatever. This multi-cultural class is 100% interesting. It's three hours once a week. A few of us gathered to chat after class, and we agreed that we'd stay four hours or longer in a Crook class if necessary. He's that good.


The others:

Dr. Putty, at Brazosport College. Taught, what, comp/rhet II and American Lit maybe? Do you remember, Michael? You'd think I'd remember given how fondly I speak of him. But we had writing assignments to do for him on a regular basis, and he really coached us well. He was excited about writing, and you know, I think I just found a kindred spirit there.

Dr. Schopen, at UT. Taught the History of Indian Buddhism and The History of Asian Religions. Does it sound boring? It was gripping, absolutely gripping. I never missed a class. Brilliant lecturer and a great topic.


Happy Friday.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Another Survey... Why Not?

Ganked from Ulitave

1) Name a CD you own that you think no-one else on your friends list does:
East Coast Piedmont Style by Blind Boy Fuller

2) Name a book you own that you think no-one else on your friends list does:
Shakespeare Never Did This by Charles Bukowski

3) Name a movie you own on DVD/VHS/whatever that you think no-one else on your friendslist does:
Cannery Row

4) Name a place that you have visited that you think no-one else on your friendslist has:
Matagorda, TX.

5) Name a piece of technology or any sort of tool you own that you think no-one else on your friendslist has: An alarm clock that plays white noise for two hours while I’m falling asleep. I got it many years ago when tinnitus bothered me a lot, but you know, it’s way better these days. Still, I like going to sleep with the sound.

A Quick, Cheap Laugh

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

The Raconteurs

The site's a bit clunky to get around... and I mean clunkier than they intended even. But the songs rock. Sounds like Brendan Benson with more huevos than he's had since One Mississippi to me. And that's a good thing.


Ah, a family tradition…

20-odd years ago, this rude Lake Jackson cop:

1. Pulled us over in Matt's car for going 22 in a 30 (!) one night. Pulled us out of the car, FRISKED us, made us stand in the glare of the headlights, and upon seeing a Playboy magazine in the back seat, made the universal "whacking off" hand gesture to his buddy with a laugh. Jerk! We were sober, guilty of NOTHING, and he nearly pulled the seat insulation out of the back of Matt's '66 T-Bird because it looked to him like freebasing paraphernalia. Yeeeeeeah. I was 10 kinds of furious over it.

2. Came into the bathroom at the movie theater to pee while I waited on my buddy Tully to finish his #2, and looked over his shoulder to ask just what I thought I was doing waiting around in there. I must admit I made a smartass remark, which I won’t repeat here. I guess I’m lucky the headcase didn’t make a bigger deal out of it.


So my sister got pulled over this morning, right there in the daycare parking lot, just before she managed to fetch her kid(s). She had an expired inspection sticker, and did not have a current insurance card. From Sis:

“As I gave the card to him, I said, ‘This is not current, but it is the most current one I have. I know you can't take my word for it, but I do have insurance.’ The officer had a smarty little attitude and said, ‘This is not current. No way is this current.’ Duh buddy, I just told you that!”

He gave her attitude through the whole thing.

I asked her the name, and it’s the same one from 20 years ago! McDonald! So he's a grade-A jerk, and clearly, in 20+ years of working for LJPD, hasn't earned himself a cushy desk job.


Gotta watch them Briscoe kids, man…


And now, apropos of nothing, a survey. Ganked from Nadine.

1) What stickers do you have on your car, if any?
A UT Longhorn sticker, a Texas Wesleyan “Rams” sticker, and the usual gov’t-required hoo-ha.

2) How many pairs of shoes do you own?
This is the feminine side of me: Probably about… 15

3) What do you hear right now?
”Summer Madness” by Kool & the Gang

4) If you could drink anything right this second, what would it be?
Iced coffee. Venti.

5) Does anything hurt on your body right now?

6) Ever take candy from someone?
When I was five. Got caught too. I’ve almost wrapped up my probation.

7) Whats your job position called?
Traffic coordinator in real life. In my fantasy life, it’s “Dr. Love.”

8) What size ring do you wear?
Uh… er.. duh… um…

9) Do you own a camera phone?
Nope. I’m waiting for them to finally decide exactly what gizmos will all go in a pocket-size gizmo. Camera, phone, iPod, tazer…

10) What’s your birthday?
August 29

11) What was your elementary school’s mascot?
Wildcats. Snarl.

12) What’s your favorite bottled water?
You know, when I worked at the mall in the 80s, the vitamin store down the way had some mineral water they put on clearance, and no one knew it but me I guess. Was fizzy, tasted like weak beer. So I’d go in there every day and fetch one from the cooler in the back of the store. Soon my urine turned green from drinking so much of it. That was my favorite, whatever that was.

13) What’s the next concert/show you’re going to and when?
Van Morrison! I’ve waited decades to see this guy, and he’s coming to this area next month! I expect it to be like the hand of God.

14) What were you doing at 11 pm last night?
Sleeping. I got tired and hit the sheets early.

15) Whats your favorite Starbucks drink?
Venti iced coffee. Jeez, magical mystery interviewer… you don’t ever read my blog, do you?

17) Did you attend your High School prom?
Yes indeed. I didn’t have enough money to pay for dinner, and my date was quite satisfied to use her multi-layered dress underpinnings as a first line of defense against my libidinous onslaught. She won the battle AND the war.

18) Did you go to someone else’s prom?

19) Would you give your bf/gf a second chance if they cheated on you?
(Wife in my case) I don’t know. I hope I never have to find out. I’d like to think most anything could be worked out.

20) Something red within 5 feet of you:
The fringe on the dress my daughter is wearing in this cute photo.

21) Your last bag of chips?
Barbecue baked Lays

22) The funniest thing you’ve seen this week?
Oh man, the photo Whit sent me of the woman who hiked up her skirt to ride this motorcycle… I nearly spit my coffee out my nose!

(Uh... where is 23?)

24) How much French do you know?
I watched French in Action on PBS almost every weekday for years. Here’s what I remember:

Robert is a candy-ass. I’d like to kick him in the pants.

Mireille never wore a bra.

Pierre Capretz needed a haircut.

25) Sparkly things?
What? What does this mean? When I was 10 years old and walked head-first into the same gate latch three times in a row, I saw sparkly things everywhere… are you asking about this incident?

26) Ever crash a car, been in accidents?
I slid off an icy road in my ’76 Ford Maverick 20 years ago. First folks on the scene just drove by and laughed from the comfort of their heated Suburban. Hey mister, explain what this finger means to your kids.

27) Do you look good in yellow?
Nah. I like maroon and black mostly.

29) Ever sang in front of a crowd?
I doubt it.

30) Do you dance?
Only with my kids.

31) Is your hair its natural color?
Is grey natural?

32) Do you exercise as much as you should?
Oddly, yes.

33) Favorite kind of pizza?
Thin-crust, and don’t slouch on the tomato sauce and mushrooms.

34) Ever had Dippin Dots?
I don’t think so. Unless this is another reference to that time I smashed my head on that gate latch…

35) Ever make fun of a homeless person?
No no. I went off on one for asking me if I could spare a taco once though. “I bought three tacos because I wanted three tacos, not because I wanted to eat two and give one away.” Not one of my shining moments. It was long ago.

36) How old were you when you got a cell phone?
Er… 34?

37) How old were you when you got your first car?
About 16. We couldn’t get it running, and sold it.

38) How many tickets do you have?

39) How long have you been driving?
20 years.

40) How many parking tickets?

41) Do you own your own car?
Well, the bank technically owns it. I’m getting back at them by vandalizing it daily.

(Where is 42?)

43) At what age do you want to get married?
Whoooooooa. Time warp survey. Actually, I wouldn’t change a thing.

44) Have you ever been married?

45) Have you ever received a restraining order?
Wow. No. Whoever wrote this thing has some issues. Is that you, Officer McDonald?

46) At what age do you want to have kids?
I started at 32, ended at 35. Snip snip.

47) How many kids?

48) When is the last time someone deleted you from their Myspace friends list?
What? Uh… what?

(Dare I ask about 49?)

50) Ever been kicked out of your home?
Nope, but there have surely been times when my wife was glad I gave her some alone time.

51) Favorite character on Friends?
Which one would look best on camera, pulling his/her ripcord and realizing the chute wasn’t opening? That’s my favorite.

52) Favorite store?
Oh. Uh… who am I kidding? I’m gonna plead Starbucks, even if it’s more like a restaurant.

Bootsy, The Little Attorney, and an Evolutionary Conspiracy

Bootsy! Lemme hear ya!

(Thanks for the tip, Bruiser)


Fairly uneventful evening last night, until the Little Attorney tried to disregard our bedtime instructions and play a video game instead. He managed to work himself into a tizzy, and we had a scene the likes of which hadn’t occurred in quite some time. I do believe at one point he said, “If you send me to bed like this I’ll just bang on the door.” Bad idea with his sister supposedly asleep two rooms over, so I told him, “If you do that I’ll give you a spanking you won’t forget until you’re 30.”

We did manage to make peace after about 10 minutes of him wailing like a banshee from his bedroom.


Current music: “Jessica” by the Allman Brothers. This song makes me want to dance like I’m in a Charlie Brown cartoon.


I had a good look at my Jellyfish material last night. I’m two songs shy of being able to assemble my Alternate Milk CD: “Too Much, Too Little, Too Late” and “Brighter Day.” No demos are known to exist of either.

I emailed the Jelly List, and I’ve had some quick responses. “Too Much” is pretty well available from some live shows, but “Brighter Day” isn’t so far. Dang.

I’m told, by the way, that they did perform “Russian Hill” on Dutch TV with just piano and voice. I’m surprised, frankly, since this song drove them nuts in the studio. I’m curious to hear how this version was done, but I’m not sure if I’ll get my hands on it just yet.

So I’ve got to find some other version of “Brighter Day.” I guess. I mean… it’s got to exist outside of the one and only official studio release, right?


Warning: Potentially offensive material to follow.


I’ve heard it theorized that one of the reasons many modern cultures like full lips on women is that they bear some resemblance to, well, you know. Female nether regions. I’ve even heard it said by someone in the know that women’s lips have evolved to mimic that look. I’m still not sure I can wrap my mind around it, frankly. Hell, if it hadn’t been a female scientist I saw talking about it on some PBS doc I might have been kinda cheesed off. I’m sure that speaks to my own biases.

But really... can it possibly be true that, not only is every straight guy on the planet objectifying women, but the very mechanism of evolution is as well?

Keeping all that in mind… Check out Christina Aguilera’s lip job.


Happy Wednesday.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Alternate Milk

Know what I’d like to do? I’d like to assemble an alternate CD of Jellyfish’s 2nd album, Spilt Milk.

I’d like to take demo and live tracks of the Milk songs and put them in the same order as the official release. I want to hear it without the big production. I want to see if I can hear a substantial… difference. I mean, I know it’ll be different. But I want to see if there’s something they achieved that was worth all the hair they pulled out, the studio bills they ran up, and the death of their band, you know?

I haven’t poked around to see if I can really do this. In my mind, I can’t say for sure that there’s an alternate version of “Russian Hill” anywhere. Maybe.

(And I ask myself why I never had many girlfriends as a single man.)


DeVotchka is playing South by Southwest in Austin again this year. I’m sure a ton of my favorite artists will be there. And once again, I’ll be in Phoenix, soaking in baseball with Hood.

Not to say that I won’t have a good time, but man… why do I hose myself like this?


Current music: “I’m Not Afraid to Die” by Gillian Welch


Man, in the restaurant at lunch today I had a bad sneezing fit. I went to the men's room, desperately hoping to blow the allergen out of my nose. The sneezes continued, and after each one I bellowed miserably, "Holy crap!"

I finally stopped sneezing and emerged from the men's room to see that, seated at the table closest to the men's room, in the closest seat, was a nun having lunch.


I’m wholly unmotivated today. Ta dah!

It’s nice outside, my work is dull… eh, aren’t those reasons enough?


I just need these last few days of this cold to trickle by, then I can resume working out. Gotta start getting ready for the Big D Texas Marathon.

You out there somewhere, Henley? You running this thing too?


If you have a nice voice, aren’t hairy, look slightly gay and are obnoxious, you need to meet my buddy Nadine.




Current music: “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” by Willie Nelson


And I’m out of ideas. Happy Tuesday, ya’ll.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Some notes before bedtime

Sometimes when I'm picking up the kids from school, some little girl will sweetly tell THEBOY goodbye. Sometimes he responds, sometimes he doesn't.

Today in the van I told him that the girls seem to like him.

THEBOY: "I know they do. But in my class they think kissing is yucky."

Me: "What do you think?"

THEBOY: "I think it's GREAT."


We got the model tonight. Actually, we got two of them. One is a Stealth fighter, and the other is a PT Cruiser that we bought on sale for 50% off.

We built the fighter, and it went pretty well. It's a snap-together type that doesn't require glue or paint. THEBOY was patient, and he used those keen eyes of his to help me find parts I was asking for.


I remember building models when I was a boy. I showed one to my grandmother, and she stared at it for a long time.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"I'm just amazed that you can see all of those little parts," she said.

Now I understand what she meant.


The doc left me a little sore. Next time I'm gonna wear a cup to my physical.


It's a rare week: I don't have anything to write for my classes. On the one hand, I'd like to just do the reading and take it comparatively easy.

On the other hand, there's a little voice inside of me saying I could pull ahead a little bit if I'd get a jump on the next writing assignments.

I'll let the voices fight it out for a couple days.


Funny, that sounds like a serious symptom: "Voices are fighting in my head..."


This multi-cultural class is great, just fascinating stuff. Useful too. For example, hallucinations are a really big deal in this field. If someone's experiencing them, it's likely a sign of a serious problem.

But patients from some cultures could talk about experiences that strictly speaking are hallucinations, yet are not the alarming symptoms they could be mistaken for. Some cultures have experiences more akin to "visions," and that's not the same thing. I mean, how many Mexican people have you ever spoken to who mentioned nonchalantly that dead relatives came to visit them? I've spoken to plenty.


Hallucinations are not limited to sight, by the way. Auditory, touch, whatever. The most serious, from a clinical standpoint, are olfactory hallucinations. If a patient is persistently smelling something that's not there... that could be a problem.

Or the therapist has gas.



Jeez, is the weekend here yet?

“Turn your head and cough please.”

Saw the doc this morning for a physical, and I am happy to report that I didn’t hit the full trifecta on the discomfort scale.

That is:

1. He didn’t give me a prostate exam. Yahoo!
2. The blood draw was painless

I did get the hernia check though.

“Turn your head and cough please.”

“Say, doc, I haven’t had my jewels squeezed like that since I worked for Belo…”


Had a fine weekend really, Randy Couture’s heartbreaking loss aside.

Yesterday we did some housecleaning. Being in a clean house makes BB happy.

That evening we took the family out for a dinner with Kelli’s Latin Club. Buca de Beppo serves up fine, fun, but not-cheap Italian. The bread was just great. Her buddies from the club were nice, and the kids never managed to cross the line into obnoxiousness.


Out of the blue last night THEBOY asked me if I could build a “monster truck.” Lately I’ve been mulling ways to help teach this child that not everything worth doing/having is a product of instant gratification.

So I offered to buy a model. I tried to explain to him that they’re not like regular toys, and that he’ll have to be gentle with it. We checked out a few at Wal Mart, but the selection wasn’t great. He vacillated between cars, trucks and airplanes.

(He also tried to spin the toy angle and just get me to buy him an air-pressure fueled rocket. No dice, kid).

We'll go to Michael's or someplace like that this evening.

So I’m curious to see how he’ll react to the notion of having to build and paint something that’ll take a while to produce results, and even then will mostly be for admiring and using the imagination. I hope this goes okay.


Ya’ll be good.

Sunday, February 05, 2006


Why do I have to shop carefully for bread that doesn't have sugar?

Why do both my kids turn up their noses at beef stroghanoff? What, it's noodles, meat, gravy... they won't even get far enough into it to get grossed out by the mushrooms.

Why doesn't anyone else I know think banda music is kinda cool?

Why isn't anyone named Bill anymore?

Why don't CSI and Law and Order just get their own channel?

Why do I have grey nose hairs? That ain't even fair.

Why do I have dreams that I'm drinking beer? I had one again last night.

Why do I find the name Buca de Beppo so doggone funny?

Why John Lennon?

Why has my professor encountered only one bilingual counselor during 23 years of private practice?

I'm listening.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

So Long to "The Natural"

It's been a pretty good day here, all things considered. Class was good, lunch at Ruby Tuesdays (my first trip there) was good. Had a nap, kids were pretty good. THEBOY got to attend a birthday party AND eat supper at the Rainforest Cafe with a buddy.


Me, I was determined to watch UFC 57. On their website I stumbled across a list of places that are carrying the pay-per-view. Now, most of them were strip joints. But a short drive from here were a couple clothed options.

First I went to Gators. I should have known to just turn around when I had to park in the back of the hotel that's behind the restaurant AND some a**hole cut me off for the crappy spot AND there were goons with flashlights directing traffic in the parking lot. Yeeeeah. Inside it was crowded, smokey, and clearly not a good option for me. They weren't seating anyone; they just told me to do my best to find a seat somewhere.

Hooters here I come...


Really, it was a similar scene there. Parking lot was packed, and folks were overflowing out the front door. Yikes. As I went to put my name on the list some guy was really letting the hostess have it. Once I finally got to speak, she pointed me to a stool for the wait. I was fine. I could see the UFC broadcast on TVs all over the place, and I didn't mind waiting to be seated. It took about an hour.


Hooters, as I've mentioned, is a place I don't much like. I have been there four times now:

Late '90 I went to one in Austin with some buddies. There I discovered what a bad taste having my libido marketed to left in my mouth.

September 11, 2001. Yep. My commute to work got interrupted, and in my pre-cell phone days I suddenly found myself in need of a pay phone. I just made a call and split.

Late '04, when Hood worked some sort of radio broadcast there. I had iced tea, hung around for a bit and called it a night.

And tonight. Gotta say, the servers were not attractive. I think the row of deep fryers behind the bar is giving them all skin problems.

But they were nice enough, they accommodated me, and no one massaged my shoulders to try to get beer orders and tips out of me.


The card was a good one tonight. A few thoughts:

I like Nick Diaz, and probably shouldn't. He's kind of a trash-talking punk, but he usually surprises me at some point during a fight. Tonight he surprised me by getting knocked around for three rounds before losing a decision to a dominating Joe "Diesel" Riggs.

Hated to see Mike Van Arsdale lose like that. Babaloo's a tough cat though. Nothing against him, but Van Arsdale is a family name.

I liked seeing Justin Eilers lose like that though. He acted like a jerk at weigh-in, so I didn't mind seeing him take a face-down nap so early in the fight.

And Frank Mir looked all kinds of bad, even before he got cut and bled all over the place. He looked out of shape, unenthused, and just outmatched by Marcio Cruz.


Ah, the big fight of the night, of course, was Couture/Liddell 3. Hoo yeah. Man, the place was electric!

Chuck was the current champ, having defeated Randy last April with a decisive "I'm Batman" knockout (thanks for letting me borrow that phrase, Whit).

Randy's a class act all the way, and at 42 still a more-than-formidable fighter.

Chuck's Chuck. I like him too, actually, but at the end of the day, he's a mohawk-wearing brawler. He doesn't have any warm 'n' fuzzy qualities, and somehow Randy does. That's remarkable for a fighter.

Man I wanted Randy to win this thing, wanted to see him turn Chuck on his head like he did in their first matchup.

In round one they sized each other up just a bit too long, but they did swing some. Randy caught Chuck flush in the face with a punch at one point. I thought Chuck dominated that round slightly anyway, though, and he started Randy's nose to bleeding. Dang.

In round two it didn't take long. Randy slipped, and as he tried to regain his footing an opening was created. Chuck let him have it. Randy went to the canvas and Chuck hit him a few times before they stopped the fight.




It wasn't quite the decisive, "hey where'd those five minutes go?" kinda knockout like last time. But it was a good stoppage, yes.


I couldn't hear so well in there, but I heard Randy thank God, tell everyone what an honor it is to face a great champion like Chuck, and announce his retirement effective immediately.



Randy Couture was the Cal Ripken, Jr. of his sport. If you don't happen to be familiar with Ripken, let me just clarify thusly: He dedicated himself to his sport, he was fair, classy, and knew when it was time to bow out. He lasted much longer in his sport than most, and is one of the greatest to ever set foot in the ring.

Definite Ripken parallels there.


I didn't have the heart to stick around and watch Paul Buentello, whom I like, face... somebody. Check, please.


It's not long until UFC 58. I had a good time pigging out at Hooters, but I hope I can find someplace better.

Ya'll have a good weekend.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Tiger Stadium

Strange statistic: In its 87 years of existence, exactly 11, 111 home runs were hit at Tiger Stadium in Detroit.


I have great respect for the old ballparks, largely. Fenway was great, and Wrigley was downright incredible. That's the best baseball experience I've had, period.

Yankee Stadium... you know, it's a dump, it really is. It's a trainwreck, an eyesore, a festering wound. And it's perfect for the Yankees, aka Satan's team.

But Tiger Stadium always cheesed me off with its exaggerated angles in the outfield. I forget the exact dimensions, but centerfield was WAY too deep, and left and right field were WAY too shallow. How many right fielders parked beneath a routine fly ball only to watch it catch the porch overhang and become a homer? And heck with the walls were so close that plenty of line drives that should have been doubles at best became homers too.

And give one a decent ride to center and it likely wasn't enough. That's not to say that just any centerfielder could cover that much ground, but shoot, how would you like to hit one 430 feet and have it stay in the park? I could be screwing up the dimensions, okay, but really, a hell of a blast to center stayed in the park, and cheap shots to left and especially right went out way too easily. That's no way to play a major league game. It's not a cute idiosyncrasy; it's bullshit. I don't miss that place.


It's late and I've run out of steam. Ya'll have a good weekend.

Before I Leave Work for the Day...

...just had to share this

Now THAT'S funny!

Phantom Pottery and the Tex Mex Ghost

Songs I like more than I should:

“Life’s What You Make It” by Talk Talk

“Lights Out” by UFO

“Creep” by Radiohead

“She’s Already Made Up Her Mind” and “Family Reserve” by Lyle Lovett

“Where Were You?” by Jeff Beck

“I Feel Love” by Donna Summer


Well, I had a nightmare. In it, Kelli and I were selling some creepy-ass gothic mansion so we could buy another creepy-ass gothic mansion.

As we unpacked, a strange lever came down from the ceiling and smashed a bunch of our… pottery.

Then one piece of pottery reassembled itself and began rolling out the door towards the previous house. I guess it thought the new place was too creepy.

Turns out the new place was so large that there was a full-scale Tex Mex restaurant along one side of the building. I got a call on my cellphone saying that their food was really good.

I then told Kelli we HAD to bail out and go back to the old house, because the person who’d called and made the recommendation was DEAD.

How I knew that, I can’t say.


I woke up, scared. Okay, so phantom pottery and post-life cell phone calls aren’t exactly Stephen King material. But the effect is the same. Really.

And as I lay there, THEBOY yelled out for me. I walked in, and he said he’d had a nightmare about skeletons trying to kill him.

I decided to just crash right there with him.


Heeeeey… Friday’s Tex Mex night! I’ll holler if a ghost calls me to recommend some new place I’ve gotta try.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Amazing Responses

From Sis:

This is the first thing that comes to mind, but I am sure there are other more amazing things....

The day we moved to this house we were all sitting around the living room with my inlaws. Right then, 18-month- old Aaron chose to let go of the couch and take off alone across the room. Vickie and I were both so happy and stunned we just about cried. Finally, after a year of doing physical therapy with Aaron, I knew we were getting somewhere.


From Henley

Why is this question so hard to answer...

Perhaps the Colloseum in Rome. Perhaps a cat giving birth. Perhaps the look on my grandfather's face as he watched Saving Private Ryan with me. (He's a WWII vet.)

Perhaps the Grand Canyon?

Or perhaps it was the look of joy and hope that knew no bounds in the teary eyes of my South African friends in college when we heard the announcement of Nelson Mandela's release from prison after 27 years. It is hard for me to imagine, as an American, how people could so adore a living political figure. The closest thing we've had to that is JFK, and he had to die to inspire it.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

The three problematic bits

Current music: “Whenever God Shines His Light” by Van Morrison.


According to MLB.com, Scott Boras is trying to pressure the Rangers into signing Jeff Weaver.

The three problematic bits in that sentence are “Scott Boras,” “pressure,” and “Jeff Weaver.”

Eh, I think Weaver could still be a good pitcher. Once he went to the Yankees they screwed with his head. When his first couple starts weren’t great, they sent him to the bullpen to… mop up? Pitch the 7th? That’s not a simple transition, and I’d say doing all of that under the glaring eyes of NY media and fans made him a head case.

And though the Rangers have a history of signing head cases, I’m voting against this one. I think Kam Loe can be just as good this season, but without the price tag.


Current music: “Freddie’s Dead” by the Impressions.


Ye gods, I might actually become a charter member of the local chapter of Chi Sigma Iota (CSI--cool). Does this mean I’ve now got an excuse to drink, streak across campus and paddle freshmen?

Nah, it's a geeky honor society thing for counseling students. So I'll eliminate the paddling from that list.


Current music: “Ain’t So Easy” by David and David.