And so, we migrate.

After a couple of years and some seriously weird and/or wonderful things falling into my life thanks to this blog, I've decided to migrate to a new blog hosting situation. Why? Well, over the weekend, Blogger saw fit to suspend - for no apparent reason - this blog and several other blogs all over the world. It was apparently a glitch, but none of us were ever given a reason, and none of us ever got a reply when we asked why, or how long. So something I had planned to do in the next few months became an imperative. Yes, this blog is now off suspension, but do I really want to risk the same thing happening again? And really, can I gripe about something I don't pay for? The answer to both is no. So please join me over at the new Eleventy Billionth Blog. I promise just as much fun, just as much thinking, and all the Cowboys live blogging you can stand. And Blogger? Bite me.

The Eleventy Billionth's Happy Good Time Story Hour

I'm wholly unmotivated today, and was so productive this morning that I find myself slac, I mean, pacing myself this afternoon. Which means you guys get a story. This one begins late at night, in not Dallas. Everything outside of Dallas is country, you see, for miles. It's like Dallas ends, and suddenly jimson weed and goats line the highway, save for a lonely Ikea. This is true because I'm telling this story. One night, I was with my two best friends, eating dinner at a restaurant in the back country of Not Dallas. Dinner turned to drinks, because that's what you need to do to fortify yourself. More people we knew appeared at this place, and commenced drinking, too. The place serving the drinks eventually closed, and we were not tired. "Why don't you come see our donkey?" someone said. Now, this is where the story begins to go awry. Already, we had conceded to sup in the back country of Not Dallas, and now someone is telling us we should travel further into the country to see a donkey. So we fortified ourselves by going to Whataburger, a restaurant placed haphazardly around Texas by Jesus to make sure people will have plenty of Dr Pepper, bacon double ranch jalapeno cheese burgers and angioplasty. There, we pick up Dr Pepper. Giant ones. Bigger than your head. And taquitos. It was to be my first taquito, but to this day, for reasons I'm about to explain, I have never had a taquito. We drove down dirt roads into the wilderness to see the donkey. At first, we drive up to a house, and being city folk, we wonder if the donkey is inside. But no. The donkey is in a pasture, a good 40 yards away. "Is it a nice donkey?" we ask. Our hosts merely laugh. We take our taquitos and commence walking - in heels - across a grassy knoll. My heel caught in what I pray was just a random hole, and not some portal to a hell beast living just beneath the dirt. I wondered at the dark, and the lack of flashlights. I should've known it was so we wouldn't see the carcasses of other folk who were lured into the country to see the donkey. After walking several yards toward the donkey area, our hosts began calling for the donkey. "Jack!" "Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" "Jack! C'mere Jack! Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" Suddenly, the bushes parted and the biggest donkey I've ever seen came charging toward us, snorting and braying, teeth bared. The crowd dispersed, save me. Me, holding the bag of taquitos. Rooted to the spot by the fearsome spectacle of a full-grown, mad as hell donkey charging directly at me. Also because my foot was caught in another hole. I was going to die. I grabbed for the only weapon I had at my disposal. No, not my shoe, because that would've made sense. I reached into that white and orange bag from Whataburger, and I hurled a taquito at the beast. The first one hit him square between the eyes, but didn't even stun him. The second hit him on the nose, and he paused. Stunned. My friends are now a good 39.4 yards away and hurrying for the car. I'm staring down a donkey, and praying I have enough taquitos. I pull my foot out of my stuck shoe, and proceed to walk backwards, up down, up down, up down, one foot in my high heel sandal, the other bare. Jack starts toward me. I hurl another taquito, and walk faster. Up down, up down. I fling another. Pow! Right in the kisser. I get better at my aim, and become a world-class taquito hurler. I'm the Zena Warrior Princess of taquito throwers, vanquishing my ill-tempered foe with six of Whatburger's drunk people foodstuffs. My hand reaches the bottom of the bag, and I realize I'm out of ammo. I up down, up down backwards the last five yards to the car, and jump in. Jack headbutts the car and tries to eat the rearview mirror. But I live.

Weird-Ass News Free-For-All

So I saw this story today, and sometimes, when I read certain news stories, I like to make up dialogue in my head. This particular part of the story:

The descendants of an African chief who was hanged and decapitated by a Dutch general 171 years ago reluctantly accepted the return of his severed head Thursday.

Prompted this dialogue:

"Hi, sorry we killed your granpop. Here's his old moldy head. Are we square now?"

So anyway, I thought we'd have a little fun. Find the most odd story from this week, and post the link and any commentary about the story the comments. DO IT.

Be a Loyal Foot Soldier - Or Else

This may just be my opinion, but nothing says weak and ineffectual leader like surrounding yourself with sycophants. Today, we read in the Dallas Morning News that Dallas Mayor Tom Leppert doled out committee assignments. Freshman councilmen and women received chairman and vice-chairman appointments. Veteran councilwoman Angela Hunt will helm no committees. None. Not at all. Hunt has made it her business to study diligently the issues surrounding the Trinity River. But not only will she not oversee that committee, she's not even serving on it. Yes, Hunt has opposed Leppert's plans for the Trinit River project, as she also does his plans for the convention center hotel. And now, apparently Hunt is being punished for that, and for having the temerity to not rubber stamp what might be detrimental to the city. Now, Leppert makes the normal noises (for him) that he appointed the best people to these committee leadership positions. But a council person who has just taken the oath was given more weight than a veteran with many miles and many hours logged in the study of what is bad and good for Dallas - and that just doesn't pass the smell test. So maybe these people are completely qualified. But really, it more appears that Leppert is sending a message: Be a loyal foot soldier, because that's far more important than what you do for your constituents.

Just Be Honest About Your Bigotry, OK?

In the span of two days, there have been two reports in the Dallas Morning News of children being neglected and abused by their parents. Both sets of children were stomach-turningly betrayed by their parents. One group of children were starved and locked in a tiny motel bathroom for hours at a time by their stepfather, while their mother allowed it. The second set were found by authorities after an anonymous caller reported strong fumes coming from their hotel room. When police arrived, they found two adults who had been huffing paint fumes all day in a 300 square foot room, not only intoxicating themselves, but their children. Besides the places of residence, the two stories had something in common - the families had Latin surnames. Immediately, commenters on both stories began upping the anti-immigration rhetoric, insisting that this is the way of illegal immigrants. They do bad things to their children. To that, I obviously say hogwash (actually, I had a less ancient term that starts with bu and ends with it). For one thing, neither story comments on the immigration status of the four adults in question. Generally, if a reporter knows the status is noteworthy, you will see something along the lines of, "immigrants found guilty of felonies are subject to being deported," somewhere in the story. But neither story has proffered that up. So how do these commenters know the couples in question are illegal immigrants? Well, by their last names, of course. Santiago, Rocha and Barron must be indicative of the 100% ne'er-do-wells that crawl under or over a fence in the dark, dark night to invade the soil of the U.S., fostering hate in their hearts and evil in their veins, ready to do horribly heinous crimes at a moment's notice. Sounds absurd, right? Well, to me, it does. I've had occasion to know two people that were in the country illegally. One was from Mexico, and had moved to the States under what she thought was a visa good for years, but instead was only good for months. She had three terminally ill children, and had come to America hoping to procure better health care for them. Her husband had worked - legally - in the U.S. until his death, and had contributed to the Social Security system. She had benefits coming from that. The second one? Her last name was Nelson. She was as Anglo as one can get, here on an expired student visa from Canada. So surnames are not exactly a good indicator of immigration status, I think. Nor is immigration status an indicator of morality. And let's not forget that in the case of the Santiago family, the mother's parents are in Florida, indicating that likely she is not an illegal immigrant, and is probably of Puerto Rican or Cuban descent - not the not so veiled Mexican descent so many of the commenters kept trying to hint at. So she's probably a U.S. citizen, and not guilty of entering the country illegally. She's just a really crappy human, something that's not exclusive to one race in particular. And let's be honest. All these claims are really just an excuse to be racist without anyone calling you on it. But really, does this kind of evil have more offenders in one race than another? Well, yes. According to 2007 data from U.S. Department of Health and Human Services' Administration for Children and Families, 21.7 percent of maltreated children nationwide are from African-American families; 20.8 percent are from hispanic families; and 46.1 percent are from white families. So really, in the U.S., being from a white family nearly doubles your chances of being maltreated or abused.

What Say You?

So the DA in Kauffman County allegedly got caught driving while intoxicated. Now the GOP wants him to resign. But I give you two stories to compare. This one was posted at 11:32 a.m. This one was posted at 12:48 p.m. Now, I'm not calling it just yet, but the last one is kinda well, hmm. I mean, no discernable quotes, fewer defining facts... Is it just a case of two reporters calling at the same time, or is it cribbing?

Next? No Burritos

This morning, via The Dallas City Hall Blog, I was directed to Pete's Place, where Pete Oppel takes on the possibility of expanding a ban on using cell phones while driving. For one, I'm not sure where the budget deficit the city is suffering and it's need to hire more police comes in to the cell phone ban argument. Maybe it's Monday and my synapses aren't firing completely, but I'm not seeing the link there. But thought flowchart aside, I'm also significantly torn about extending the ban, just as I was torn about the original one, which bans the use of cell phones by drivers in school zones. At what point did we all start thinking it was OK to turn our government into a nanny? As Trey Garrison pointed out in his excellent piece a few months ago, Texas - and also the U.S., for that matter - has become this orgiastic celebration of rules. While I'm all for public safety, I'm also for common sense. I'm also for using the rules we already have, which will address the whole issue of cell phone use quite nicely. It's not like blood alcohol levels, where some science has to go in to determining if you broke the law. If you get in a crash or violate a traffic law while on your phone, the laws already on the books address this behavior. Nearly everyone with a license knows that driving while texting or talking on the phone is risky. Ergo, if you chose to do so while driving, you're engaging in risky, dangerous - reckless - driving. I can think of a good half dozen other things that can distract a driver. So what's next, a no burrito while driving law? No driving with kids in the car? No changing the station on your radio? Maybe a "no smoking because you might drop the lit cigarette on your lap and it will distract you while your pants are on fire and you will crash" law? Yeah. I thought so. Let's put the kibosh on this whole thing now, yes?

Something Still Isn't Jibing

Not quite 20 days have passed since the TABC and the Fort Worth police department conducted a joint raid on the Rainbow Lounge, a newly-opened gay bar, on June 28. The raid sent one man to the hospital with a life-threatening brain injury, and left a community divided over whether the incident was a case of police brutality and homophobia, or just a routine bar check gone very, very bad. But so far, all that's really happened is a circular firing squad between the TABC and the Fort Worth PD. The police have quit going on these raids with the TABC, and both point the finger at the other - when they're not busy pointing it at apparently lascivious gay people. Because, as we all know, gay people are so gay they have lost all common sense, and will indeed grope policemen as they enter a bar. At least, that's what this police report would like you to believe. But then you have eyewitness accounts told to the Dallas Voice - eyewitness reports that differ quite a bit from the police report. And just when all of this comes out - the police report was published today - the Voice publishes this scoop: TABC Administrator Alan Steen admits his officers breached policy, and the raid was botched. Steen minces no words, either: "If our guys would have followed the damn policy, we wouldn’t even have been there. … We have these conversations all the time, and we don’t participate in those kinds of inspections when there’s not probable cause or reasonable suspicion or some public safety matter to be inspected.” So what was the impetus for the raid? Two other bars were scheduled to be checked that night - one with numerous violations. According to Steen, the raid on the Rainbow Lounge was conducted after one person had been arrested for public intoxication three days earlier. The Rainbow Lounge - at the time of the raid - had only been open a little more than a week, hardly enough time to actually become a nuisance to anyone. If, by the TABC's own admission, there wasn't actual probable cause for the June 28th raid, was the impetus homophobia on the part of a group of TABC agents and the Fort Worth PD? While none of us can look into the hearts of those agents and officers, I think we can all say with a certain amount of certainty that the timing of the incident couldn't have been more insensitive, since it was also the anniversary of the Stonewall riots in 1969.

Why Mark Davis Can't Read

OK. Maybe I don't know why he can't. I mean, I'm assuming he had the same standardized tests I did, the ones that - in addition to determining if you can do basic math - score your ability to find the meaning of a passage by looking at its context. And Lord help us, someone passed him, even with his rudimentary reading comprehension skills. Then they gave him a microphone, and a keyboard connected to computer, and someone decided to give him a stage in both two facets of media. To that someone or someones, my ball peen hammer would like to meet you. Today, Davis devoted an entire column to Sonia Sotomayor's "wise Latina" comments. He's against them, or whatever. He is pretty sure Sotomayor is going to show way too much empathy or something and then it'll be all vaya con caca rio with the whole Constitution. Because she's a wise Latina. To that, I say, hmpfh. I'll take a wise Latina any day over a buffoon Caucasian. But you see, Davis just took that one little line - just like virtually every other suddenly afflicted white rich guy of GOP descent out there has - and turned it into an entire movement. Suddenly, there's much hand wringing. "Surely this 'wise Latina' comment means she hates the whites, right? No? Well, can we say that's what it means?" I imagine the strategy sessions in Wingnut Village go. I have this incredibly nerdy hobby called research. When Sotomayor was nominated, I started reading everything reputably published about her that I could get my browser and/or hands on. When the New York Times published the complete transcript of the speech where "wise Latina" originated, I read it. Davis, apparently, did not. The speech was made for the Judge Mario G. Olmos Memorial Lecture in 2001. It was part of a symposium entitled, "Raising the Bar: Latino and Latina Presence in the Judiciary and the Struggle for Representation." So wow, whodathunk it? She'd talk about being a Latina in the judicial system. So out of left field, that is. I'll pause while you wrap your head around that. If anything, this is a speech about opportunities in the judiciary for a certain minority. It's about the opportunities that existed then, and the ones she hoped would occur in the future. No doubt that day, she inspired many Latino and Latina students to pursue a similar career path. And that, of course, would bring diversity to the judiciary, something nearly everyone except - to ironically borrow a phrase from Bill O'Reilly - a few pinheads. But let's look at context. Yes, she did say:

I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life.

But she followed up with this:

I, like Professor Carter, believe that we should not be so myopic as to believe that others of different experiences or backgrounds are incapable of understanding the values and needs of people from a different group. Many are so capable. As Judge Cedarbaum pointed out to me, nine white men on the Supreme Court in the past have done so on many occasions and on many issues including Brown.

Hardly racist. So what did she mean by "wise Latina?" For that, we need to look at the culture. As Carolina Miranda pointed out in her excellent piece in Time, the wise Latina traditionally is a woman everyone turns to for advice. She is the vast and acknowledged storehouse of information and knowledge. She is wise. Isn't that what we want in a judge? Someone wise? Someone who is a vast repository of Constitutional knowledge? Someone who, weighing what she knows to be true points of law, can objectively advise? As Miranda pointed out in her piece, Sotomayor was trying to convey that "her breadth of experience navigating different worlds might lead her to have greater wisdom on certain topics than her white male counterparts. " And, as Miranda also pointed out, Samuel Alito said much the same thing:

"When I get a case about discrimination, I have to think about people in my own family who suffered discrimination because of their ethnic background or because of religion or because of gender."

So Mark Davis, I know research is arduous and not as fun as say, speaking out of your posterior, but remember this: Do do the latter, you have to show everyone your butt.

Someone Apparently...

wants Michael Davis fixed (courtesy the Dallas Morning News' new fixiedoohickeydeelybopper).

How Long, Exactly, Can You Shield a Child?

Today, Rod Dreher blogs that - as moving as little Paris Katherine Jackson's heartfelt speech about her father was - perhaps it would've been better to shield the child and her brothers from the spectacle that was Michael Jackson's memorial service. As usual, Rod fails to look at the context to get the main point. In this instance, perhaps, sure, if you just look at that one piece of the afternoon, you might feel that way. But you have to look at other parts. What I took away from that memorial service was that this little girl was aware of what people said about her father. She wanted to defend him. I saw her jump up - she was one of the first, in fact - to applaud Al Sharpton's comments about her father not being strange, for instance. By many accounts, Jackson tried to shield his children from much of the mockery made of him. But I remember being an 11-year-old girl. I knew when my parents were fighting over the phone. I knew when the child support check was late. My mother rarely told me, but you can intuit a lot. I think she knew how the world saw her father. Whether the realization came over the past few days, after his death, or much earlier as paparazzi trailed them when Michael Jackson took her and her brothers out and about, she knew that part of the world saw him as a beloved entertainer, and another part saw him as something freakish to be mocked. I saw no coercion from the family - if that was the case, you'd think Jackson's oldest child would have been asked to speak, or even all the children. Instead, I saw a bright, grief-stricken, articulate child who wanted to humanize her father. It was a gut reaction that reminded everyone watching that they may have lost an entertainer, but she lost her daddy. And she certainly deserved to tell us that.

Seriously?

So, Sunday is the only day we get the Dallas Morning News now. We used to get it every day, but then when they quit responding to our stop paper requests on vacations, we canceled the subscription. We got an offer for Sunday only, and decided to give it a whirl again. It's an easy whirl, given that the paper is so light and I only allow myself to read the first three graphs of any Rod Dreher or Steve Blow column. But imagine my - no, wait, a little background is an order here. Just a few short years ago, I was responsible for not only cleaning the newspaper bathroom, but also writing all major stories and designing the paper - laying it out, as it's called in newsroom vernacular. So reading the print version of TDMN is not just an exercise in frustration because of some of the writing (btw, Elizabeth Souder rocked that T. Boone Pickens story Sunday), but also because of the design. So imagine my dismay to page through the paper to find this gem - a black and white photo of fireworks. May I just ask how many layers of boneheadedness did that have to go through before it landed in my yard. I can see being an overworked copy editor and it not registering. But doesn't this page go through at least two more layers before it makes it to the press? At some point, shouldn't someone have said, "You know, this is a great photo, but a black and white picture of fireworks is really kinda stupid?" And then it also dawned on me - we can expect more of this. Through mismanagement - which led to decimating the newsroom and overworking people who were already overworked anyway - there is literally nobody there to say, "Guys, we can't put a freakin' black and white picture of fireworks in the paper." So while I thoroughly intended to mock Dallas' Only Daily for this, all I can really muster is a slow head shake, and going to find a black mourning band for my sleeve. Because really, while this may seem small to many, it's one of many symptoms that this patient is very, very ill. This photo is one of many death rattles over the past year, and management has given every indication they've signed a DNR. Let's sit shiva for the Dallas Morning News, and try to figure out how we're going to accurately tell the story of Dallas in years to come without it.

Things That Make Me Want to Hit Myself About the Head With Hammers

Fair warning, this'll probably be the first in a series. As a rule, I'm a fairly content individual, but there are a few things that actually do make me want to hit things, or hit myself with things. This week? It's been the commenters on the DMN. Specifically, the slackjawed mouthbreathers who turned this story about the Gay Rights march in Oaklawn into a discussion rife with homophobia, and completely filled with jawdroppingly awesome untruths. The conversation veered - and stayed - on gay marriage. More than one person insisted the law in Texas didn't ban it, and that there was a lot of fuss about nothing. A simple Google search could've cleared that astounding misconception up, but since the poster couldn't even spell discriminatory correctly, I'm assuming there were challenges that precluded such an experiment with the truth. But really, I do not get this debate about gay marriage. The government (and I'm veering dangerously into Trey Garrison territory here) has no business being in the marriage business. Marriage is a religious ceremony. Government (if I'm recalling my constitutional knowledge correctly and completely forgetting the past eight years) isn't supposed to be engaged in religion. The simple solution? The government gets out of the marriage business, and begins offering civil unions to everyone, for legal purposes. You get your civil union at a courthouse, and then it's up to you - and a church - to hash out any marriage ceremony you might want. The answer seems so simple that there's probably something I'm missing. If I'm not, why hasn't it happened?

Things I've Said This Week

Said this week, and in no particular order: 1. I would like some of the Moose Knuckle ice cream. (Dessert request gone awry) 2. I've discovered five speedwalking geriatrics can be downright terrifying when they're headed your direction. 3. It burns my ass something fierce. 4. If I have to pony up blood or buy Avon, they're getting Funyuns and Diet Dr Pepper, and they'll like it. 5. MJ and Farrah are not only merely dead, they're really most sincerely dead. 6. In honor of MJ, any rumbling I do in parking garages or subway stations will include the use of jazz hands. 7. That squirrel is looking at me again. 8. Dueling asshats? AWE.some. 9. Hee! Anal Fissures. 10. Is having a raging case of the stupids. I think it might be contagious.

Dear Dallas Morning News:

I totally agree.

Wherein channels 8 and 11 start noticing a sucking sound...

Ah, yes. The digital conversion. When we first started hearing about it, it was kind of like Armageddon - you heard about it, heard it was approaching, but it was always far enough away that it didn't seem like something to really worry about. And, despite the flurry of information in the past year about it, apparently some people emerged from beneath their rocks, twiddle their antennas, and realize they could no longer see Troy Dungan - never you mind Troy hasn't been on in more than a year. They couldn't see him, nor Tracy Rowlett, and it was nigh to upsetting. Now we find out that people all over the DFW area are having the same trouble. People that prepared for the impending Digipocalypse by getting the converter box. People that know how to program VCRs and work iPods. People who read newspapers. People who read newspapers on the Internet. In other words, fairly technically astute individuals with a modicum of ability were unable to procure the channel 8 or the channel 11 digital signal via antenna and converter box (or antenna and HD television). As we scanned and rescanned the antenna channels the day after the switch - mind you, we have Uverse, so this was just for back up - we couldn't help but wonder if other people were having the same difficulty. Judging from the comments on this post over at Uncle Barky's site, they are. And judging from early numbers after the switch, this difficulty could - possibly - be really screwing with the two channel's ratings. People are essentially lazy. Sorry people, but we are. I know. I mean, I'm sitting here, on the couch, in my pajamas, and have been since 6 p.m. or so. We're lazy. If we can't get a channel in via a set top antenna, and we don't already have a roof antenna up, what's the over/under on one of us lazy SOB's actually carting our keisters to Target or wherever to pick up an antenna, then climbing up on the roof to install it and aim it and whatever the heck else you have to do to get a stupid signal? Yeah. I thought so.

Things I've Said This Week

New feature. Maybe a little narcissistic. But here goes: basically, I compile things that I've either said in e-mail, out loud, in an instant message, or whatever other form of communication I can't think of right now, and then on Friday, I show you this list. You can comment if you wish. Or if you want to tell the class the weirdest/funniest thing you've said all week, you can do that, too. In no particular order: 1. I mean, surely someone's looked at this shit by now and gone, "Goddamn, this woman couldn't be more batshit if she lived in a cave and wore mosquito pants." 2. whip it up with a rage. 3. Scary. I have popcorn down my shirt. Only, I haven't eaten any popcorn today. 4. If I give you a cookie and a medal, will you simmah down? 5. you are one pair of acid washed jeans and a bon jovi tshirt away from 1990. 6. thinks eric nadel's eyepatch would make a good band name. 7. Hung like an unwired light switch. Small, and unable to turn anything on. 8. "That's what SHE said." - Loudly, in The Mecca, after a hostess assured a waitress that there was money "in her box." 9.Like that you can get drunk on homeopathic medicine while at your desk at work, because it doesn't look like beer? 10. I can still taste it in my mouth, and I love it so much. 11. I would like to take your fine work out for a steak dinner. 12. So there I was, in Wal-Mart, right? Doing the Pee Pee Dance, and waiting on the slowest cashier in the world to quit gawking at the sheer volume of batteries I was buying. If I hadn't been concentrating on not wetting my britches, I woulda said, "Hey, do I have the world's largest sex toy collection ever, or is my power out? Wanna hazard a guess?" But instead I paid and then peed. 13. Let's see ... do I jiggle the thingamagig boocoo times until golly, gee, it flushes, or do I leave this foot-long turd here for everyone to see? Oh wait, I gotta go to Sunnyvale by 3. Option two it is!

Dear WFAA:

Now, I realize that Minnesota is not that big a deal, so really, it probably should just be thought of as one big city. I get that. But it's not. Yet. Maybe someone can put that idea out there. But in the meantime, it's not a city. You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.

Let's Talk About Context

So as many have started to point out, little Petey Sessions now has an opponent in the next election. His name is Grier Raggio, and his mother was just the subject - and rightfully so - of many tributes after her recent birthday. Today Wickburner (let's face it, after he came back from his fishing trip, Frontburner became all Wick Allison, all the time) mentioned that Sessions has an opponent. And then he points to this, saying Sessions will have a field day with it. Only if he's a bottom-feeding, non-comprehending, knuckle-dragging mouth breather who doesn't understand the concept of context - no offense to any mouth breathers or shrimp. But seriously, anyone who saw the date on the review would realize that, contextually, Negro wasn't an out of date word at the time. It was commonly used. Martin Luther King Jr. used it. I'm pretty sure Jesse Jackson used it. It was 1969, and while I wasn't even a glimmer in my mother's eye back then, I'm pretty sure the subject, former Black Panther Eldridge Cleaver, probably even used the word. Oh, look! I found where he did, in his book "Soul on Ice." Try Page 22. So yeah, a little historical context is probably a nice thing, I would think. And when you have that, you realize that Raggio's use of the word Negro when writing about Eldridge Cleaver, given the time and subject, is pretty much a non-issue. And if that's all the dirt he can find to rap Raggio on, then Pete Sessions may need to actually address some issues, and make some constituents happy.

Extra Crews, My Hiney

So Wednesday night, a storm rolled through - in case those of you playing the home version of The Eleventy Billionth Blog didn't know. A big storm, apparently, although the only evidence of it in my neighborhood was a few limbs - nay, large branches - laying in yards, and the colossal darkness that enveloped the neighborhood when the power went out. The first night wasn't so bad. Apparently the router dealie thingie that Uverse gives you to power your Internets has a battery on it. That battery lasts about three, four hours. I didn't even really notice the first hour of darkness go by - I mean, I could still sit there and make fun of the dog, and simultaneously play Farkle. I was fine. F.I.N.E. fine. Then the laptop battery died. But I was still OK with that. We'd get power soon, right? It was fun to sit on the front porch, watching the kids run around outside. Normally, they'd be inside, watching TV. This power outage forced them to do what we old people used to call "playing outside." We'd do it all day in the summer, and beg to stay out just an hour more when our mothers called us in for dinner. We amused ourselves with endless games of tag, hide-and-seek, and fort building. Wave after wave of stormy goodness cascaded over the DFW area that night, and on into Thursday. Our neighborhood regained power sometime in the night Wednesday, only to have it ripped from the clutches of a few of us. In other words, my side of the street? DARK. Other side of the street? Lights. When Thursday morning rolled around, the sky still roiled and churned with angry looking clouds, ready to dump rain and mayhem without any provocation whatsoever. It was fun getting dressed in the dark, and praying I put on black pants, not brown, with my definitely black shirt. Makeup by candlelight? Well, that just forces you to go down to the bare basics - a little powder, some lipstick, mascara. I did my hair by the dome light in my car. Thursday, after work, I stopped at Wal-Mart to rape and pillage the sporting goods department. I picked up some LED lights, and a battery-powered fan. That, and some prodigious help from Boston Market, helped Thursday night pass. I was still feeling rather Zen about it at that point. It's like camping. I goofed off with the LED lights for a while after I discovered that if you move them around, you can make it look like the ceiling fan is moving. I read a book. I thanked Jeebus that "The Digital Transformation" hadn't happened yet, and we could still get local television broadcasts - the audio, at least - on our nifty battery-powered radio. And as I drifted off into sleep Thursday night, with the cool air coming through the windows, scented by some sort of flower outside, I thought, "You know, this isn't THAT bad. I can deal." And then I looked over. I saw, on my bedside table, a bar of soap I bought at Thomas Jefferson's Monticello a couple weeks ago. Wildflower scented. I sniffed it. I realized, at that point, that there was no magical floral scented air wafting through my window. IT WAS REGULAR AIR, and not having electricity sucks. SUCKS. And at that point, I became not OK with having no electricity. I was pissed. The air suddenly wasn't cool enough, in fact it was sticky. The dog was breathing too loud. I couldn't find a cool side on my pillow. And when I awoke this morning to find that there was still no electricity, I seethed - both inwardly and outwardly. When I sat on the front porch, where it was cooler, and saw the TV on in the house across the street, I gritted my teeth. And the object of most of my vitriol became the Oncor confirmation number. See, when you call Oncor to report an outage - and it's always Oncor that repairs this stuff - they tell give you this confirmation number. Now, the first time you call and get this number, you carefully make note of it. I mean, it's a confirmation number! This surely means that the next time you call, you will get an opportunity to enter it, and something will happen. Then you call again, 12 hours later, when you still don't have electricity, and find out there is no opportunity to enter it, and they give you the exact same confirmation number as last time. So Oncor, you suck. I mean, I understand there were/are a lot of outages, but you could at least attach some sort of function to your cotton-pickin' confirmation number. Let us enter it, and the computers can tell us an estimated time the power will be back on. By the fourth time we've called, maybe you could connect us to a live human being? And while I realize there were, according to you, 500,000 people without power and you've knocked that down to 120,000 as of this morning, there's really no way for the media to verify this. I know you say there's extra crews, but given that last night you said there were 180,000 without power, and today it's 120,000, and yesterday it was supposed to be 500,000, I'm thinking the math doesn't add up. You managed, in the hours between say, 5 p.m. Wednesday and Thursday at 10 p.m. to knock out 320,000, yet between 10 p.m. last night and 8 a.m. this morning, you could only manage 60,000? Really?

Pubic None the Wiser

Gee, is this what happens when you can a lot of people, including a lot of copy editors?

Of This, and That, the It's Summer, Get Off My Butt Edition

So yeah, I took a brief siesta. But there's a buttload of news just awaiting our comments, and since you can't do that much anywhere else, I give you this: 1. Why does it matter if Food Network contestant Melissa doesn't look like the pic on the FN Web site? I mean, it's not like the DMN does anything like that. 2. Apparently, a movie version of "The A-Team" may happen. Who's gonna play B.A. Baracas? According to imdb, rapper Common will. 3. In Cindy Adams news, MSN is featuring a story about the most expensive 'burbs to live in. Highland Park is on the list. Only problem? Apparently the city moved five miles north of Dallas. 4. Nooooooooo......really? 5. Fellow blogger Amy Severson has an excellent (and inside) take on the whole Hinojosa's son benefited from Hillcrest program kerfuffle. 6. National Review's Ed Whelan decided to out an anonymous blogger - who happens to be a law professor in South Texas.

Of Car Decals and Bumper Stickers, and Things That Make My Head Hurt

Do you know what's a pain in the posterior? Approving comments on a cell phone. And truthfully, if I had known that before I hopped a plane to Virginia Friday, I might have written about cute puppies and rainbow farts instead of Frank Larison vs. HOA fascism. But I have to say, many of you who provided the 50 comments to date - 61 or so if you count the comments on the follow up - were polite, engaged, stuck to fact and to the topic at hand. But then there are you other guys. The ones who wrangle Obama into it even though this HOA and it's leadership has probably been around since well before Obama took office. That particular leap of logic (remember, a Frisco community had a similiar HOA amuck situation, and Collin County = majority GOP) is tolerable in small doses, however. What was worrisome? The ones who get scary and imply they're gonna do something violent and/or weird to the HOA president. How does that make any situation better, I don't know. How does it make you the better person in this situation? I don't know. But responding to this situation with anything other than a desire to voice - by mail or e-mail - your disapproval is just as bad - no, worse - than what this HOA has done. So chill out. As you see in the comments in the original thread, there are lawyers involved now. This thing will get settled in a way that makes sense. But don't make a head-shaker of a situation something else. And stay on subject. Anything other than that makes me want to kick things.

Re: Woodlands II on the Creek? You're On Notice.

As you can see in the comments, this has people fired up. Before it goes much further, I need to say a couple of things. Yes, this is mean and stupid. However, I pride myself on having non-mean (Ok, non-vicious), non-stupid readers. You guys are smart, which makes writing this blog a challenge I enjoy. So let's behave as the intelligent, mature people we are, and not do something stupid to the president of the HOA. And by "something stupid" I mean vandalism, prank calling, abusive calls, etc. Let's keep it smart and clean, people, because oafish behavior really won't sway as well as mannered, measured comments relaying displeasure. And two, a couple of you have said you plan on organizing some sort of effort to speak to the HOA. If you don't mind, please let me know what you plan, and how it goes. Having said that, have a great weekend - and a safe one.

Woodlands II on the Creek? You're On Notice.

So today, just a few scant days after Memorial Day, we get James Ragland's column about vet Frank Larison, who is in trouble with his HOA at Woodlands II on the Creek for having the temerity to exercise his constitutional rights. Last night, I began reading a book by the same author of "Eats Shoots and Leaves," Lynne Truss. This book, "Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of Everyday Life (or Six Good Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door)," is kind of about manners, but more about how simple human decency should preclude the modern-day need for entire tomes dedicated to etiquette. I bring this up because there was a very interesting subhead in the first chapter about how we've managed to irrationally widen our personal space over the years. Instead of moving to an area of the room where there's no cigarette smoke, we behave dramatically and insist there be a law to make sure that your ever-widening bubble of personal space is clear of it. If we don't like bars, instead of not going to one, we demand that they clear out from our neighborhoods. If we don't like decals on cars, we - instead of just not putting them on our cars and thinking, "To each his own," when we see one on another car - demand that our neighborhood be bereft of cars with any kind of decoration. HOA's operate under the guise that it protects the overall value of the member homes. But a home without character is a house. A cluster of houses is just a subdivision or a complex, not a neighborhood. While nobody wants nuisances like Bondo'd cars on blocks or toilet planters, there are city codes in place that already address these things. So to the Woodlands II on the Creek HOA president, I submit: Your kid getting shot in the head while she sleeps in your bed, where she feels safest? Big fat juicy nuisance. Vet with decals showing his pride in his military service? Not. Got it? Great. And just in case anyone feels the need to explain how you feel to the HOA, I believe this is the address. Update: Someone has anonymously posted the correct contact information in comments.

In the Year 2000

H/T: Jezebel

Know Your Blogger: God

Yes, that's right. God. And I know we started this whole "Know Your Blogger" thing saying it would be Dallas bloggers, but God, he be everywhere, if I recall correctly. Today, I talked to God via Twitter, and also enjoyed what will now be a daily destination for affirmations from God Almighty - his blog. Among the things I discovered? He's a Count Chocula fan. So here goes. Name: God Almighty Blog: http://god-has-a-blog.blogspot.com/

1. In what general region wherever do you live?

Right smack-dab in the middle of Heaven. Most people don't have any problem finding it once they get up here; my house is pretty much ginormous.

2. Before blogging, what the heck did you do with yourself? What are you doing now?

Most of what I do now is the same stuff I did before I started my blog. I controlled the Universe, answered prayers, sent blessings down to my humble worshipers, stuff like that. But ever since I decided to heed the Missus' advice about blogging (I don't care what Moses says, it wasn't his idea. And if it was, it wasn't a good idea at the time), it's been way easier for me to keep tabs on all of the goings-on down on Earth. People are seeking me out more than ever before.

3. Two things people don't know about you ...

I usually wear boxer-briefs with smiley-faced shamrocks on them under my robe, and I'm a Libra.

4. Last five books you read, what you're reading now, and what you'll read next:

Last five: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

In Cold Blood

Twilight (I had to see what the Missus was all in a tizzy about)

and... does my Baywatch 2009 desk calendar count as a book?

Now: The Last Lion

Next: He's Just Not That Into You

5. Best piece of advice ever given to you:

'Change the toilet paper roll yourself next time or you'll be sleeping on the couch." - The Missus

Dear Municipal Services Bureau:

Knock it off. Seriously. Six calls to one phone is a bit excessive, even if we did owe money on a ticket or fine - which we don't. And given that we called three times and e-mailed twice asking for you to quit calling, even if we did owe money - which we don't - you'd have to stop calling. It's the law, and you broke it like, four times at least. And for the record, hanging up on someone when they call you back to ask that you quit calling is rude, but it also doesn't absolve you from having to follow the law and quit calling, either. A little primer on the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act of 1977. 1. You can't call before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m. unless the debtor agrees. 2. Within five days after first contact, you must send a debtor a written notice. 3. When the consumer doesn't owe money, they have 30 days to respond to that notice after receiving it. 4. Debt collectors can't harass, oppress or abuse a debtor. They also can't repeatedly use the telephone to annoy someone. 5. And they can't lie. In other words, when someone calls you -three times - and says quit calling this number, you can't claim the number isn't even in your system. And then call again 15 minutes later. So you've been reported to the FTC and the Better Business Bureau for your antics. And for you municipalities out there using this company - sure, they may get you results, and they may even be cheaper than another collections agency, but do you really want this particular bunch of nogoodniks representing you? Texas Department of Public Safety - I'm talkin' to you. If you're an agency who has the job of upholding the law, and you hire a company that doesn't obey it, isn't it a little hypocritical? So for all you readers out there, if you get a call from this number - 512-454-4757 - it's Municipal Services Bureau, owned by the Gila Corp. They have a lengthy list of complaints, as you can see here, here, here, here and here.

American Idol: The Ugh, Just Give it to Adam Already So I Can Drink This Beer in Peace edition

Why are the celebrity sightings at Idol so freakin' random? Kimberly Locke, Janice Dickinson and Joely Fisher. Random. SeacrestOUT says they got a bazillion votes last night. He also wants to respect the four people who professionally guided blah blah blah. Then he ranked on Randy's "For me for you" thing. Then Kara's "you suck sweetie" thing. Oh look...ghosts from Idols past hosting the respective home town parties. And now the top 13 butchering Pink's "So What!" Awe. Some. I don't even remember part of these people. Did I mention this is two hours long? Oh dear, Scott the blind is dancing. Oh dear. Now David Cook is up, singing his new single, "Permanent." He also has a song called "Barbasol." I sense a beauty salon theme. Then he got done singing it, and SeacrestOUT came out and picked the scab that is David Cook's brother dying of brain cancer. By the by, you can download the song after the show on iTunes and the proceeds go to curing cancers. Even elbow cancers and armpit cancers. Now they're going to openly mock the people who lost this year. And the trainwrecks at audition. This is why I never watch the audition shows. Ladies and gentlemen, Norman Gentle in the house. Paula is agog. Lil Rounds and Queen Latifah for the first duet of the night. Hey Lil! You're still flat! I believe the good Queen Latifah will show you how it's done. Did I mention this show is two hours long tonight? Oy...Anoop singing...then Alexis...singing the Jason Mraz song, "I'm Yours." Oh, and whodathunk it, there's Jason Mraz. Kris? Meet the guy you'll probably be touring with in a year. Kris Allen, Jason Mraz and Jack Johnson. And btw, Alexis and Anoop made the Jason Mraz song sad. SAD. Now we're seeing a Kris Allen bio, including his near puke when he was announced as a finalist. Kris Allen and Keith Urban are gonna sing "Kiss a Girl." Lessee how this goes. So far, no suck. Promising. I like it when things don't suck. That's nice. Not sucking. He's also pretty good. That's nice. I like it when things are pretty good. And it's nice he gets to sing with Mr. Nicole Kidman. I bet if Nicole's gourd wasn't so Botoxed, she'd smile and mouth the lyrics along in an animated fashion, and perhaps yell, "Go Kris!" But the world will never know if that would happen. I should also mention that my affection for Kris, as outlined somewhat last night, is also due to some home town loyalty. While not from Conway, I am from Arkansas - but the cool part. I feel, much like people who live in other maligned states like Delaware, Oklahoma and Kentucky, that one must cheer vociferously when one of our own manages to do something that doesn't involve feeling up interns, refusing to know when to quit a presidential campaign, or marrying your uncle. I'm just sayin'. Dear sweet merciful poop pants of Jeebus...the loser girls (except poor Allison) are singing "Glamorous" - the one Fergie sings. Oh lookit - Fergie. Singing um, worse? Worse than the Idol loser girls. Now it's the rest of the Black Eyed Peas...and a sudden curious cutaway and silence and a view of the Idol stage. Remind me why I thought Megan Joy was endearing again? Because she just sang like she's been punched in the throat. Oh look...bikini girl...and she sings...then Kara comes out and they have a sing off. Then Kara opens her dress. And it literally was just as exciting as I just described it. Alison Iraheta and Cindy Lauper are gonna sing "Time After Time," which is probably one of my favorite CL songs. And this is nice. We never really got to see little Allison do anything acoustic. And by the way, does Cindy Lauper age? I think she's made one of those deals like Dick Clark, where you look like you haven't aged at all, and then suddenly the offer expires and it all hits you at once. Thwap! You're old and wrinkly and 78! And then your neck jerks back like you've been tased and you fall to the floor. That's my theory anyway. Anyhoo, I'd download this from iTunes, I believe. Now he's talking to the fams Kris and Adam. Look at the cans on Kris' mom. I mean, don't. Don't. I don't notice such things. Oh look. It's Danny Gokey singing, "Hello." Is this to remind us he's not David Cook? And of course we know now this means Lionel Richie is gonna come out. It only took us an hour, but we figured it out, you goofy AI producers! And, btw, let's all stop for a minute and remember that Paula Abdul was a choreographer. Yet, she dances like a drunken white cougar at ladies night at La Bare's. Lionel is also going to show Danny Gokey how to use his hips in a side to side motion typically thought of as dancing. Now it's the Glambert bio. Holy planetoid outfit, Batman. Glambert's singing my least favorite KISS song - "Beth." Five bucks says KISS comes out soon. I would also like to announce that Glambert is wearing more eye makeup than me. Mother Heifer. I was right. Oh come on....Glambert gets pyro AND KISS? And old dudes in leather? Carlos Santana is doing the intro to "Black Magic Woman." Hmmm...who's gonna sing it? Oh, there ya go. Matt Giraud. The Not Timberlake. Now all 13 are out, and they're gonna sing "Smooth." And we're reminded why many of these people were sent home. Jorge? That made my innards hurt. And now the final Ford commercial, I mean, video. Adam and Kris, and a montage of memories. Tear. David Cook says there's a surprise for Kris and Adam. And it's cars! OMGZ. Megan Joy, Michael Sarver and....Steve Martin on banjo. Something I never thought I'd string together in the same blog. Wow..the banjo is great. Everything else? Meh. Now it's disco Idol with the boys. They're singing Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy." And they stole their outfits from the set of Men in Black. And then Rod Stewart came out wearing a coat he stole from a used car salesman. And he's singing "Maggie May." And he's kinda um, rough? Yeah. Rough. More audition videos. I want to die. I DON'T WATCH THIS FOR A REASON. Tatiana scares me. IJS. Can we just name this puppy? I need to pee. SERIOUSLY. Now we get to see them sing "We Are the Champions." TOGETHER. Seriously - this is mean. This song is tailored for Adam Lambert. Kris is gonna get drowned out. But hoo! lookit! Queen. And the rest of the Idol losers, singing along. Yanno, Glambert's kinda whiffing this one during the chorus. But you can tell Kris is just jazzed to be on the stage with FREAKIN' QUEEN. And they're both having a blast. And let's face it, they're both gonna end up putting out albums, regardless of who wins tonight. But I know which one I'll actually buy. NO NO NO NOT ANOTHER FREAKIN COMMERCIAL BREAK. Dude...I coulda been blogging with Clarice Tinsley. Now SeacrestOUT asks Simon what he wants to say and who should win. And Simon says they're both very nice people and they deserve it blah blah blah. Woot! Edward Bodington in the hizzy! Hot British accent! A new world rec-ord was created. Say it again Eddie. Say. It. Again. Oh wait...they're announcing the winner. Kris Allen won. Holy crap on toast! My five texts last night totally worked! I mean, your text and phone calls totally worked! Way to go! I, of course, being cool, never texted a vote. *Cough* SUCK IT SIMON COWELL! Ooh! And he gets a trophy. It's new. His mom is so crazy cute...and look at his adorable wife...and Kris can't articulate nuthin. It's adorable. Kris Allen has to sing "No Boundaries" again. Bloody hell. The man just won American Idol and he's stuck singing that unmitigated mess of syllables wrapped up in a bum's chalupa? That's just mean. I'm sorry Kris. But yay! You won American Idol.

American Idol: It's Almost Time

This opening is stupid. STUPID. Can I say it's stupid? "I'm a superstar in the making?" Threw up. In my mouth. A little. So it's Kris Allen and Adam Lambert in the finals. All the Gokey fans need to quit whining. Seriously. He should've been kicked off for that unearthly wail from "Dream On," and the fact that he wasn't was only compounded by the fact that he summoned the undead spirit of Michael Bolton for his final two songs. He earned his boot last week, m'frens. Talk about two vastly different yet the same singers, though. Both are innovative, but one is quietly so, and the other does it with sparklers. One acts like he knows he won, the other looked like he might throw up when named to the top two. SeacrestOUT says they have three songs each - favorite from the season, one chosen by Simon Fuller - creator of American Idol, and a song co-written by Kara. SeacrestOUT also says tomorrow night's results show may run long. TIVO alert, folks. Also, Glee better not suck. I've been waiting to watch it for two months. If it sucks, I'll be mean. I will. Adam Lambert screamed when he was a baby and was a pain in the ass. His parents say so. He's singing first, reprising his version of "Mad World." Smoke. Trench coat. Stairs. Very Dramatic Moment. I find myself watching for jazz hands and some Fosse side steps. Cripes...this song is like Valium and glitter. Was it this long the last time, too? Randy says this is it and he loves Glambert's showing the emotion or something. "A for Adam! A!" Kara says she's so happy he chose that performance. He changed the game with that one. And then she ate her face. Paula says he's handsome and she's proud of him. (BTW, holy spray tan, Paula!) Something about a theatrical taste. Simon thinks it was over theatrical and reminded him of "Phantom of the Opera." Kris Allen had to be paid to sing. A quarter. His parents encouraged his busking, apparently. He's singing, "Ain't No Sunshine," which he knocked out of the park the last time he did it. Oooh! Mayer face even on the piano. Can I just say that it'll probably be a close vote, but people shouldn't bank on the voting audience going with the judges? If that happened, Archuletta would've won, IJS. Randy was dressed by Scott. Randy loves that he can tell exactly what kind of artist he is, and that was one of his best performances ever. Kara says there's something wrong with you if Kris Allen doesn't move you when he sings. And then she ate her face. Paula says he awakens some spirit in all of us and allenizes something something. Simon said he wasn't sure America had made the right choice in putting him in the top two, but he takes it back now. Simon Fuller picked "Change is Gonna Come," for Adam Lambert. Interesting. I would've called Kris for this song. I think he'd pick up the nuances better, but we'll see. See, this is my beef with Adam - this is a performance for him. Like a trained monkey. Kris, it's like he's listened to the song, and it's coming from his gut. Adam is the Lamborghini that you watch as it travels down the street. Kris is the old school Ford pickup that's been restored that you walk around and admire, and know it's got some history behind the cab. Randy says that the reason he's here is because he can sing his face off. Kara says this was his best yet. And then she ate her face. Paula says it was the best she ever heard him sing. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever... Simon says he's 100 percent back in the game.... Kris Allen is doing "What's Going On." Again, Simon Fuller picked it. And it was pretty much a good choice. Randy says they've got a real live competition. He thinks it was a little light for him. Kara loves that he was true to himself from day one. And then she ate her face. Paula says he tore that song up and made Marvin Gaye proud. Simon said it sounded like three friends in their bedroom strumming along to Marvin Gaye and it was too laid back. While we wait during commercials, lemme ask this: Is it just me, or is this season just not as exciting. Sure, there's been some decentesque talent, but something about the change in the way they've done things is just sucking the life right out of the show. What do you think? What the hell kind of britches does Glambert have on? Oh, right. The singing. I hate this song. But it is pop-ish, and an example of what will go on the radio, and Glambert is showing some serious armor chinks. In short, this sounds like Adam Sandler doing Air Supply. Seriously - are those acid washed jeans? Randy's outfit makes me sad. Inside. Where it hurts the most. Randy says he can sing anything, but it wasn't one of his favorite performances. It was pitchy. Kara says it's amazing when someone like his talent something something. Then she ate her face. Paula says adjectives can't something something. Seriously, Paula. OOMPA, LOOMPA, DOOPITY DO. Simon says over the entire season he's been one of the best, most original contestants. He believes Adam is a worldwide star. And then he politely asked for a shoehorn so he could pry himself out of Adam's ass before Kris takes the stage, because really, he can't hear a damn thing in there. Kris Allen is singing the same song. I'm meh so far. He better pick it up. I think it's the song. It's not well suited to either guy. They're not power ballad guys. Well, Lambert is, but not that one, obvs. The song is swallowing Kris. Randy said he should be very proud of what he's done in this competition. He thought it fit his voice better than it did for Adam. Kara said the song was too high for him, and he shouldn't be judged on that. She hopes people vote on the season, and then she ate her face. Paula said something something take it in. As a person of color, she agrees with Randy. Simon said watching him on stage was incredible and he thoroughly deserves to be standing on the stage. So, that's that. Any predictions? Personally, with that last one, I think I would've been more interested to hear songs they wrote, instead of them both singing the same song that really didn't suit either of them. Hop to it. The comments are open, and you people certainly bitched enough about last week's absenteeism. I expect a flood, people.

OMG! So Sorry! American Idol

I had this crime watch thing last week, and neglected to live blog American Idol. Rest assured that I'll be back in my usual spot on the couch, beer in hand, tonight AND tomorrow as recompense.

Dear Glenn Hunter:

Yes, I have disagreed with you more often than not. But this? As someone said, your latest post on Frontburner is the exact reason comments are good. Because you are so very wrong. Let's get past the fact that my initial reaction was visceral and involved a knee to your nethers. I'm even willing to try to get past the fact that - even when Frontburner did allow comments - you tend to lob a bomb and then run away, never coming back to engage the people who called you on some of your complete and total, ill-informed toro caca. So let's get down to business. 1) The family allowed the Twittering of the surgeries (read that TWO surgeries) because it also benefited them. With two surgeries going on in two separate hospitals, it was a good and practical way for everyone (whether they were at UT Southwestern or Children's) to get updates and follow the progress. 2) Under HIPAA, a patient's written permission can allow for disseminating of their current medical condition and status. Five seconds of Google found the answer to that, btw. 3) According to UNOS, there are 102,144 people waiting for organ donations as of 1:50 p.m. Eastern today. By Twittering this surgery, organ donation was demystified, which could in turn lead to a lowering of that number. So in conclusion, it wasn't bizarre (except maybe to a relic) and it wasn't contradictory. It was no different than the press conferences after sextuplets are born, faces are transplanted, or Britney is rehabbed. But you know what is bizarre? The fact that I had to use my blog to tell you all this.

A Bigger Word for Fail, the Update

So as you all know, (and if you don't, scroll down a scootch), there's been this ongoing battle with TXU over a fee they said was a mistake, but went ahead and deducted from the bank account any way. Well, not long after the post, I got an e-mail from someone in the communications department at TXU, offering to help. It seems they have some kind of scanner doohickey thingamabob (I used all those words so Steve Blow can't) that tells them when there's a blog post and such about the company. Well, a phone call to this person (not gonna name names, because I don't want the poor guy inundated with calls and e-mails - his job must suck though, given the metric ton of people I've seen complaining) and then an e-mail with all the details later, and we got a phone call today from TXU, saying they've magically put the money back in our account - something they swore on a stack of utility poles they couldn't do just a couple of days ago. The transaction hasn't appeared yet, though. So we shall see. In the meantime, I'd just like to throw this out there - if you're having issues with a big entity, let me know. I'd be happy to post up your problem, and see what we can all collectively do to get it solved.

Anybody Have A Bigger Word for Fail?

Because I need to borrow it. See, TXU's stellar customer service is now holding $200 hostage. It all started when we realized that the contract was up on TXU, and began shopping for a new electricity provider. We ultimately ended up going with another company, one that could offer us a better rate, a longer contract and the possibility of average billing - which is awesome when you're trying to stay on budget and it's always 120 degrees in the Texas during the summer, and summer lasts from the end of April to somewhere in November. So we canceled our service with TXU. And then we got a bill for the last month - $68, plus a $200 early termination fee. Assphinctersayswhat? Yeah. Early termination fee on a contract that had already expired. So a call was made, and a customer service rep named Jose assured us it was a mistake, and an amended bill would be sent in about a week. Fast forward, oh, about two weeks, to today. Still no amended bill, but what we do have is a debit from the bank account, for $268 (yes, we're signed up for automatic bill pay). Yeah, that early termination fee on an expired contract was still on the bill. And now it had been deducted from the bank account. So more phone calls were made. Thirty minutes of holding for three minutes - cumulative - of conversation. One permahold while a "supervisor" said he'd see if he couldn't rush that refund check, because although TXU can debit your bank account, it apparently can't put the money back. Horrible music for forever, then dead silence. So TXU, you're on notice. I'm gonna need that check by Friday. You can overnight it. A complaint was already made with the PUC, and next comes me e-mailing every company officer on your Web site and generally making your life miserable. If there are any overdraft fees because of this surprise withdrawal, I'm gonna need another check for that. The thing that gets me is that this is probably done to a lot more people. They send this bill with the early termination fee, and then bank on people being lazy or chalking it up to poor record keeping, and just paying it anyway. And that is completely a wrongheaded way to do business. So your competition offers better rates, and people leave you for them. That doesn't mean TXU gets to pad the last bill. So if you are thinking about changing electric companies because your contract is expiring, and you're using TXU now, keep an eye on that bill, and don't take Jose's word for it. Call every day, and make sure you disable automatic bill pay. If you've had a similar experience with TXU, let me know. Comments are open. Apparently, there are plenty of people who also have issues with TXU. Like here, here, here and here.

After the elections, there's this:

Open letters for all! Mayor Leppert: So I see, much like the Trinity vote, things have gone your way for the hotel, too. I'm sure you also realize that if this wasn't a lowly May election, things might've gone differently this time. People really didn't like this hotel thing. There's still a lot still don't. And at this point, I think acknowledging this might be good for you, even if you feel like walking up to Ann Raymond and spiking the ball. But mostly, I think you better make this work. I think it better be the best freakin' hotel in the history of hotels ever. Because anything less than what it was sold as will be considered by most to be a failure on your part. You will be the mayor that hitched an albatross to the city's neck. You'll be that guy. But also, if the hotel and the Trinity were meant to be your legacy pieces, you better get a handle on a few things quickly. There are a lot of people out there that voted for the hotel that were probably on the fence. If both the hotel and the Trinity fail - or even if just one does - do you think the voters will still be patient with you? Do you still think you'll get glowing reviews by the DMN editorial board? There are hurdles facing both projects that are flat out not in your hands. The levees on the Trinity and the whole mess with the Army Corps of Engineers reports - out of your hands. Trying to sell bonds in a market like this? Out of your hands. Cost overruns because of fluctuations in materials? Out of your hands. I'm intensely wary of city officials - well, officials period - that take on legacy projects. It can lead one to believe that perhaps that person is more interested in what the plaque on the project says, rather than what is good for the city. And you've taken on two. Dear Councilman Steve Salazar: I get more answers from people who are not my councilperson - like Angela Hunt, for instance - than I ever have from you. You are, by far, the least engaged councilperson on the horseshoe, and when my car needs realignment, I thank you. Or something. But you could've at least made a token effort to campaign. A few more signs. Maybe some door-to-door work. But you didn't. You knew you'd win because your opponent was young, and did not possess a war chest. So once again, you've missed a chance to talk to your constituents, see what's bugging them, give even a modicum of indication that you are interested. So even though you won, you fail. Dear Fernando Rubio: I know you're smart. I know you care about your community. But for gosh sakes, if you're gonna file, run. Just the investment of some shoe leather and some steno pads, and you could've possibly taken this thing from Salazar. All you needed to do was go to door to door and ask three things: "What do you love about your neighborhood? What do you hate? How can your council person help the most?" Indicating that you're interested and listening would've done wonders. But instead, nobody but a scant few knew who you were. And that ain't gonna win over the incumbent. Dear R.I.P. Dallas: Quit being such a tool. You won. Fine. But you pretty much wussed out anytime someone tried to engage you on the facts. You also are a music stealer. If you really care about this city, you and your co-horts now need to acknowledge the other things that can kill Dallas. Things like crappy streets, no entertainment offerings in downtown, crime, homelessness, etc. And then you're pretty much gonna need to help do something about it. Otherwise, you're just opportunists.

Dear Texas:

WTF? Love, Me

Finally, An Answer

Today, in about three hours or so, this whole Vote No/RIP Dallas/Vote Yes/Enough is Enough stuff will be over. At this point, the polls close in about an hour and a half. Early voting places I talked to said the pace was brisk and steady. Today, most news accounts say polling places are reporting steady, but hardly brisk, voting. A drive around the city sees some polling places with nothing but Vote No signs, some with a mix of Vote No and Vote Yes, and some with mostly Vote Yes and one or two Vote No. The television ads have boiled Prop 1 down to a fight between a rich guy and the mayor. But right now, the answer to which camp will prevail is still very much up in the air. As the whole thing winds down to a close, I have just a few thoughts: If I was forced to choose between the a Yes on Prop 1 and Yes on Prop 2 outcome versus a No on Prop 1 and a No on Prop 2 outcome, I'd choose the latter. Although it didn't get as much attention, Prop 2 is by far the most dangerous thing on the ballot. Cities have overcome failed ventures before and lived to tell about it. If the hotel comes to pass, and then later doesn't live up to the illustrious predictions for its potential, yes, taxpayer money will be involved. Bonds will build the hotel, but bonds must be repaid eventually, and if the hotel isn't making a profit when those bonds mature, the money has to come from somewhere. That may be my very long ago Econ 1 talking, though. But Dallas could survive that. And the hotel will probably benefit from its proximity to the convention center, but the convention center will need to benefit from its proximity to after hours entertainment and destinations. Right now, that is lacking in the downtown area. We may have conventions for 2012, 2013 or even 2015, but once word gets back about attendee dissatisfaction with the venues available after the conventions close each night may very well hamstring us from bringing more business later on. But Prop 2? Prop 2 grinds city business to a halt. While I appreciate the sentiment - and as I said before, I think the fact that essentially there is enough vitriol regarding this hotel that there are pretty much two referendums against it should be a wake-up call - I think the threshold for accountability - $1 million - is far too low. So I'm starting this open thread to give everyone a place to react to today's outcome. Have at it.

Television I Do Not Watch

I will admit, I do not watch The Bachelor or The Bachelorette, primarily because I have a better chance of winning the lottery than any of those relationships coming to fruition. They've had what - one wedding among the two shows? Oy. But today I learned we've got like, four guys from Texas competing to be the next half of a couple who breaks up before their wedding. Two are allegedly from Dallas, but if you look at their pages on ABC, you'll see one is actually from Denton (which is not Dallas, but close), and now lives in Lantana. So say hi to: Jake. Tanner P., Wes, and Sasha. Anybody know any of these jokers? If so, spill it, sunshine.

Dear Steve Blow:

Sorry about that...I was well, trying to use my camera phone to do um, you know.... this.

American Idol: The My Brains Hurt So This Is Fueled by Vicodin Edition

Helllloooo, everyone. Glambert in the bottom three last week? Buhwha and oh my. This week, we have rock week, with Slash - SLASH - as the mentor. I really hope this involves teaching baby Allison the proper way to carry around a bottle of Jack Damage and how not to puke on the band. SeacrestOUT said there were a couple of accidents on the set, and one of the AI tower doohickeys collapsed. The contestants haven't had a proper run through. AND THEN THEY MIGHT DIE WHILE THEY SING. Also, the contestants are going to pair up and sing duets. Dear merciful lord in heaven - who styled Glambert? He looks like a cross between Danny Zuko and the Barry Gibb Talk Show. Now they're explaining who Slash is. The contestants got to meet him at the Roxy. Danny Gokey is doing the white man overbite. SERIOUSLY. Glambert's doing "Whole Lotta Love." Slash told him not to improvise on the high registers. Personally, I hate it when he does that. I want to punch a baby kitten in the head. I'm glad Slash agrees with me. (Note to self: Google high register and music.) OK - did we have any doubt that Glambert would take to this week Richard Pryor to heroin (too soon?). I just realized that Glambert has the Rosie O'Donnell haircut. Randy says this is the Adam he loves and he's a rock star. Kara says he's a rock god. And then she said a bunch of other stuff that I tuned out. Paula says he's a "whole lot of perfect." Simon joked that the performance was a little understated, but seriously it was his favorite performance Adam's ever done. "The problem is, nobody can top that now," he said. Glambert took Little Allison to his hairstylist for rock girl hair. Slash said she's predisposed to the Janis Joplin thing - I'm hoping he means vocally, because, uh.... So she's singing "Cry Baby," and as expected, pretty much nailing it. OK, she's the exact opposite of David Archuleta, whose youth came off "golly gee shucks." Randy didn't love the song choices. "All it was was the 'cry baby, cry baby'..." Kara says Janis was the right choice, and thought "Piece of My Heart" would've been better. Paula says she should do the biopic of Janis Joplin. Simon said he thought it was a terrific vocal and she had presence, but worried the song was too sound-alike with the original. Then little miss Allison got all feisty in Simon's face. So far, two pretty solid performances. I see a potential train wreck with Gokey, IJS. First duet of the night - Kris and Gokey doing "Renegade." Of course, this means an Allison-Glambert matchup. Oh...this is...bad. KARAOKE. If this was less rock and roll, it'd be Lawrence Welk with the bubbles. I mean, between Kris' John Mayer guitar faces and Gokey's white man overbite, we've got a mess of facial ticks and sadness. Randy really liked the harmonies. The individual vocals were OK but the harmonies were better. Kara says the sum of the parts was better, and there was pitchy moments. Paula says it was really great and powerful and compelling. Simon says Danny was better than Kris. Kris is up for his solo now, will do the Beatles' "Come Together." He's gonna have to top last year's version by Carly Smithson. Slash tells him to be more animated. Yay! More John Mayer faces! It's a little bluesy... slowed down a bit. It was probably a wise choice for Kris, considering he's not really hard rock, but this addresses the week's theme but still sounds like him. Hah! Randy agreed with me and he loved what he was playing on the guitar. Kara thought it wasn't a great performance and he tried too hard. Paula said his artistic delivery put his signature all over it. He's an artist on this stage. NO. Really? Simon actually didn't like it too much and thought it was like eating ice for lunch. Holy crapstick covered in lima beans. SeacrestOUT just said Gokey's gonna sing "Dream On." That's just mean. It's either gonna be a train wreck or TOTAL KARAOKE. WTF is he wearing? Why, honey, that's the least rock and roll thing he could find in the Idol closet, that's what that is. I am not liking this. NOT. Liking. This. He sounds like he's taking a giant dump. A big, steamy, stinky pile of poop right on the stage, but he forgot his fiber so he's having to strain at the stool. That's what I think. In the name of all that is good and holy, make that stop. Randy says this isn't his genre, and this was all right for him. Gave him an A for effort. Kara says he took it a little too far. Paula doesn't know if this was the right song for him. But she's a huge fan, a huge fan. Simon agrees with everyone. That last note, he said, was like watching a horror movie. I AGREE, COWELL. He still thinks he'll be safe after tonight. Can I just say that I think the Allison and Glambert duet will be AWESOMENESS? I mean, I could be wrong, but I really think that this could be freakin' awesome. What if they do some Lita Ford/Ozzy Osbourne? They won't, but what if they did? They're doing "Slowride." Alright, alright alright..... I don't think this was the best song. I think Lita Ford and Ozzy would've been better. I mean, they can't suck more than the other, so they've got that goin' for 'em. And hey, they go to the same hair stylist now, so there's that... Randy says they're the two seasoned rock stars and they should do a duet on their albums. Kara says they're the rock god and rock goddess, which is like prom king and queen but way more gay. Paula says they should get married. Simon says they definitely won the show on the battle of duets and that it may have given Allison a chance to stay in the competition. Do you smell a possible Glambert-Allison showdown in the final? Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants - the girl who has visited the bottom three the most ends up being in the final? As for the bottom two - I'm predicting Gokey and Kris. What say you?

Dear Ken Mayfield:

You know, I totally get your frustration. Sometimes, a female gets all uppity, and then you're forced to, in the immortal words of N.W.A., "slam her ass in a ditch." But really, if you're gonna get all up in a female coworker's face, I recommend getting rid of all the reporters in the room first. I mean, alternately, you could just marshal enough facts to shout her down and shut her up but good, but in the absence of that, just tell the reporters to leave the room. But since that stupid FOIA thing means you can't do that either, I suggest the following things so you don't end up looking so foolish in a news story: 1. Grab Maurine Dickey's hand, and use it to slap her in the face. Then say, "Quit hitting yourself!" *slap* "Why are you hitting yourself?" *slap* 2. Snort, and then say, "At least I know my science, unlike THIS guy over here..." and then do the over the shoulder point with your thumb and John Wiley Price. 3. Snort, and then say, "At least I only have pictures taken with my pants on..." and then pretty much repeat the same action you did in suggestion No. 2. 4. Challenge Jim Foster to an IQ -off. 5. Fart, then blame it on Maurine. But wait for her to make a face, and then say, "If you smelt it, you dealt it!" I hope all these suggestions help you in some way. Peace out, homey.

Two Things ..

I'll hopefully comment more tonight, when I have time, but I thought I'd throw both of these out there: 1. Time wonders if Kindle can save newspapers. 2. CNN says the future of online news is hyperlocal. Discuss!

Gertie

Most of my close friends know that two and a half months ago, tiny Gertie - a terrier mix who thought she was a housecat - chose to come home with me from the Dallas Animal Shelter. The whole day had been spent meeting dogs. And then, in this little enclosure, was this one dog. She looked up with big brown eyes, not barking, not jumping, as if to say, "I am way too much of a lady to do all that. But I like you." Once in a visiting room, she artfully dodged the biologicals left by other dogs and tried to crawl up in my lap. So when I say she chose to come here, I mean it - she picked us. The day I was supposed to go pick her up, I was told she had developed a little respiratory infection, and would need to stay another 10 days. When she finally did come home, it was as if she knew this was her place, we were her people. It took her two days to figure out the dog door. Monday - her first solo day - when we got home she made us follow her to the kitchen, where she proceeded to go out the dog door and come back in, as if she needed to show us that she could do it, and that we didn't need to worry about accidents anymore. On walks, she assumed every person out wanted to pet her. And why the hell not? She was - and I may be biased - the cutest friggin ragamuffin of a dog you've ever seen. At night, I'd put her in her bed, cover her with her blanket, and she'd curl up and go to sleep. In the morning, she demonstrated she was not a morning girl at all - you'd have to wake her, and then she'd stumble out of her bed. We thought the clumsiness she displayed was part of her charm. She hated the cold, so we bought her a sweater. She'd refuse to go outside without it if the temperature was below 60. She was a bit of a prima donna, our Gertie. But then, a few days ago, we noticed that it wasn't just her tail wagging, it was her legs, the entire back half of her body. At first we thought it was a quirk from having a new dog visit. She whined at night, and we attributed it to a little dustup the two had in the dark one night. And then Wednesday came. We got home, and she was shaking even worse than before. She whined as she fell asleep, and tossed and turned. A trip to the emergency vet offered us something treatable - an injury - or something far worse - distemper. Scared, but hopeful, we let the doctor give her something for pain, something for infection, and an anti-inflammatory, hoping it would work. "I don't ever want to go back to that place," I said. "It's depressing." We watched two families lose pets that night, as we waited. Another elderly woman brought in her seizure-having dog. All those injections worked briefly, but I ended up spending all of Thursday night up, holding her, soothing her, as she whined and shook. When she walked, she looked like Amy Poehler's character in the SNL "Appalachian ER" skit. We took her to our regular vet the next morning, hoping he'd run some tests. He looked at her briefly, walked out of the room, and came back to say, "I've got bad news. It's distemper." No blood work? No tests? "What do you suggest," I managed to gasp out during what would be the first ugly cry in public of the day. "I think the best choice is euthanasia," he said, and then walked out of the room again. The phenomenal vet tech who did her initial write up left with him, then hurried back in. "I think he could be wrong," she said. "I think you should get a second opinion." She gave us the name of Dr. Yvonne Hanks, in Plano. The earliest appointment was 4 p.m., and it seemed like time stood still. Gertie whined and shook, and looked at us with confused eyes, as if she couldn't figure out why her humans couldn't fix her. In the meantime, we decided that if this was going to be it, we'd give Gertie the best afternoon ever. She got steak, she got snuggles, and she got time out in the backyard in the sun. It was there that we discovered she had been chewing on one of the shrubs - could this be the cause of all of this? We looked it up, and found it was harmful if eaten. At that point, I almost hoped it was poisoning. It was something fixable, right? I sat on the couch, with Gertie next to me, looking up possible symptoms. "It can't be distemper," I said. "She's eating, she's going to the bathroom. She's not running a fever. She's not got a runny nose." So a clipping of the shrub was brought to Dr. Hanks as well. She agreed that Gert's symptoms could be from a neurotoxin and said a blood test would give us a better answer. High liver enzymes? Toxin. High white blood cell count? Virus. We waited, trying to calm Gertie, who by now had a catheter in her front leg, and was receiving a muscle relaxer and IV fluids. "I have not so good news," Dr. Hanks said. "It's viral." As I burst into the second ugly public cry of the day, she explained that a normal white blood cell count for a dog like Gertie is about 1500. Hers was 2100. The other reason I love Dr. Hanks? When I started bawling, I looked up as she gave me a hug. She had tears in her eyes, too. But Dr. Hanks didn't want to count Gertie out just yet. She asked us to leave her overnight, so she could re-hydrate her, and fix her wonky electrolytes. We came home, and I had another good ugly cry before downing two Benedryls and collapsing in a coma. The next morning, Dr. Hanks let us know she was doing some better, and they were going to try some phenobarbital for the shaking. By the time we came to visit Gertie that afternoon, Dr. Hanks was bubbling over with good news. Gertie was up and barking, eating and going to the bathroom, and making a general pest of herself. The phenobarb, apparently, made her shaking less pronounced. She was sleeping through the night. "She doesn't like her catheter, and keeps trying to pull it out," she said, laughing. "She's chewed through her IV lines." When we got to her, she was alert, walking around - almost as if to show us that she could do it. So we went home, excited. If Gertie did well again overnight, we'd get to take her home. We texted and e-mailed all the friends and family to let them know. Saturday morning, I bake a cake to take to Dr. Hanks' office, and then errand running. While out, we get a call that we can indeed take Gertie home. We rush over to Plano, where Dr. Hanks warned us that the weekend would be a good indicator of whether or not Gertie would pull through. She was doing well, Dr. Hanks said, "but it's still a delicate situation." Knowing that, we took Gertie home. For a while, all was well. She went outside and lurched around the backyard. She ate a can of food. She inhaled whatever treat she was given. But then, around 3 p.m., the whining began again. The shaking became more pronounced. One dose of phenobarb didn't touch it. I sat (crying, again) in a dark, quiet room with her, hoping maybe the lack of stimuli would help. A call to Dr. Hanks (seriously - what vet gives out her cell phone number?) authorized another dose of phenobarb. Gertie slept for about two hours. Then the whining and shaking began again. She was hot to the touch. She chewed things and wandered around. Her back legs didn't support her at all any more, and she dragged herself around by her front legs a few steps before collapsing. I have never seen anything - dog or human - try as hard as this dog to get better. I think she rallied Friday and Saturday morning, but ultimately, her tiny body just couldn't handle any more stress. Or maybe she knew this wasn't going to end well, and just wanted to come home for a few hours. I don't know. But as the fever grew higher, and the shaking and whining more pronounced, it was decided. She wasn't getting better, she was getting worse. She was in pain, probably suffering from incredible dementia....and it was time to say goodbye. And so that's how, this morning, we ended up back at that incredibly depressing emergency vet clinic, handing over our Gertie to be put out of her misery. I know there are going to be some people out there who think we should've tried a little more. There are others that will think it was cruel to try all weekend, and that we should've taken our now former regular vet's advice. But I think that Gertie got two months of love, attention, playing in the backyard, long walks and doggie ice cream that she wouldn't have gotten if we didn't meet her in the shelter two months ago. She touched so many people's lives in such a brief amount of time, and even now I find myself, sitting on the couch, missing her warm, furry body curled up next to my leg, content. So goodbye, Gertie. Thank you for choosing us, and for loving us back. I can't tell you how much I'll miss you.

American Idol: The I Ain't Here Edition

I shan't be around a television tonight for AI, but I'm starting this open thread so you guys can have at it in the comments. Or not. Whatevs. I'll post links to the individual performances tomorrow.

Some Help for RIP Dallas

The economy is tough, I know, and getting together a "grass roots" effort to make sure the powers that be build a hotel is tiring. There just is no "fun" in fundraising. And paying for music? An expense you just don't need. But you keep getting called out on it, which is probably embarrassing for an organization that has, up until now, done so well at avoiding such things. So I am here to help. I'm a giver. This is a list of songs that are part of the public domain. This means you - yes you - can use them for the low, low price of free. Now, it's just words and sheet music, no recordings, but I know with all the 200 or so people you have at the ready (with what, 400 more on call?), you can probably muster up a fine group of people to hum these tunes. Maybe there's even someone there with a guitar, or a glockenspiel or a triangle? Maybe a squeezebox or a couple of spoons? Don't say I never did anything to help the pro-hotel groups.

Fits of Journalistic Nostalgia

A conversation with a pal brought up this story, about the first interview I ever did. I was in eighth grade, and it was for the school paper. I cannot for the life of me remember the teacher's name, but I remember I was assigned the story because she was new to the school, and had been teaching at a consulate school and then a local school in Mexico. In the course of the interview, I remember asking her about culture shock, and she told me the story about their little dog, Pepe, who they had adopted after moving there. They had a housekeeper, and occasionally her mother would come and make them fresh tamales. In the area they lived in, fresh meat was so scarce that the local butcher would run up a red flag when he had some. So they, uh, ate what meat was available. One night, the teacher came home to a big, steaming pile of tamales. She ate several, and then began calling for Pepe...to no avail. I think you know where that was headed. I told the whole story in my piece, and it was, I suppose, the first hard-hitting expose I did - on the dog-eating science teacher. So what was your first interview?

Does It Have to Be One Thing, Or the Other?

Over the weekend, there was a tiny little kerfuffle that I may have had a hand in. What kind of surprised me - and it's not the first time someone has said this about this blog - is that apparently you can't do anything serious (like write about healthcare reform, the convention center hotel, or suicide) if you're also going to write about the frivolous - like American Idol and recipes. My blog, I believe, is pretty much a reflection of me. I like to cook. I get semi-geeky about American Idol, mostly because I used to be a music critic, and mostly because I enjoy train wrecks. But I also covered county, city and state government for years. I covered murders and corruption cases. A series on meth production made one major seller paranoid enough to leave town. I'm not bragging, I'm just trying to explain that I'm not one or the other - so why should my blog be? And before I say the following, I need to explain that I'm not one of those rabid, bra-burning feminists. I'm what I like to think of as a happy ala carte one, mostly because I think some of the arguments we have about gender inequality only exacerbate the problem. But that being said, I can't also help but wonder if I were male, and Rangers games and grilling technique took the place of American Idol and recipes, if the same people who criticize me wouldn't just love it, or at least find it acceptable. In other words, are they put off by the lighter fare, or is it that a dame would have the temerity to throw some brainy fodder out there?

Ah-hahahahaa

and heeheehee.

Just To Be Completely, Totally Clear

Although the Vote No guys keep telling us all voting no on Props 1 and 2 means you're for the hotel, let's be completely, totally clear: You can vote no on Prop 2 and still vote yes on Prop 1. Aside from the sentiment behind them, the two are different propositions altogether. Really - knock it off, Vote No. It's plain old misrepresentation to tell people a no vote on both means you're for a hotel. You do realize that, by doing this, it could conceivably backfire as well. People could extrapolate that voting yes for both means you don't want the hotel. So what if there are more people than you think that really, really hate the hotel? This could mean that while the hotel is defeated, the city is also saddled with Prop. 2 - a pretty asinine waste of ballot space, as I've explained before. So do the right thing, guys. Voting no on Prop 1 means you want the hotel. Voting no on Prop 2 means you want the city to run efficiently, without having to hold referendums for small expenditures. See? That wasn't so hard to explain.

In A Fit of Nostalgia....

Is It Just Me, or Is This Misleading?

So I took a real good gander at the Vote No! Web site today - and noticed immediately Angela Hunt's photo on it. Now, let's begin this by saying the Vote No! site is for both Prop 1 and Prop 2, and urges a no vote for both. But that being said, it doesn't do much on the front page to distinguish between the two. So just on first glance, it looks like Angela Hunt is urging people to vote no on both. And we know that's not true. While yes, she does urge people to vote no on the harebrained Prop 2, she's decidedly on the Vote Yes! side of Prop 1. But she's also popular. She's known as being one of the smartest city council members and - to me - it looks as if they're trying to capitalize on that popularity by hinting she's for everything the Vote No! camp stands for. Couldn't they have used a picture of someone else? Update: Angela Hunt responded in the comments, and reports the photo has been removed. And another update: Wilonsky has more at Unfair Park.

OK, OK, Enough Already...

Who knew turning off comments would create such a, well, thing? A to-do. A phalanx of perspicacious refugees looking for a place to mix-and-match letters and words in semi-coherent sentences? And that's fine. We all has a sad because Frontburner doesn't allow comments anymore. Yes. We do. But let's also admit that, if they turned them on at 1:15 p.m. today, we'd all be back over there, some with their snarky tinfoil hats in hand, ready to go at it again. So really, enough with the "Frontburner sucks." No, it actually didn't suck. It was quite fun there for a while. Right now, it's kind of like hearing that woman behind you have her really loud cell phone conversation while you're waiting in a line. Yeah, it sounds halfway interesting, but you know you're missing half the conversation, so you tune out. So yeah, I'm bummed. But I'm bummed because it was a great place to converse, and now it's gone. The same way I'd be bummed if Half Price Books on Northwest Highway burned down. Would I visit the site of its burned out hull every day and mourn it's passing? No. If I had a bad experience there one time, would I show up and take a whiz or a dump in the parking lot, whilst waving a single digit? No. For one thing, that's gross, but another? Well, let's put it this way - I had this teacher that once pointed out that the biggest insult you can give your enemy is to just not care about them at all. Hate takes time and effort. Indifference takes little at all, and is by far less flattering. But Frontburner sucks? Always sucked? Really? Then why have a sad about it at all - call it a crummy blog that you'll never visit again and be done with it. Because right now, a lot of people are getting the window smudged with their nose and hand prints.

The Hotel Vote's Little Sister, Prop. 2

While the hotel vote - Prop. 1 - has been getting most of the press, Prop. 2 is equally important in many ways. Now, I don't mean for this to be a long post, but I did want to point a few of those ways out, and also why I think it was able to get enough signatures to be added to the ballot. Whether unions were behind its genesis or not, a lot of people signed this because the signature gatherers - I know, because I was approached by five, at least - presented it as an extension of the hotel issue. People all het up about the fact that the city decided to spend millions on a hotel that may or may not bring money to the city and may or may not lose money for the city were more than happy to sign something that would mean the city couldn't spend their tax money on such gestures again without taxpayer approval. At least, that's how it was presented to me. Every time. But Prop. 2 isn't just about the hotel. This hotel. The one everyone's got an opinion on. It's about slowing city business down to a halt every time they want to offer incentives to a developer to help revitalize downtown. Some incentives are good for bringing life to forgotten areas of Dallas. For instance - and this is just off the top of my head - wasn't the Urban Market born in part with city incentives and subsidies? Maybe this would have more relevance if it was a higher number, I don't know. But $1 million? That's the equivalent of not being able to write a check for more than $1o without your spouse's approval. In other words, and to be completely blunt, a colossal pain in the pants. To me, making sure my tax money is spent wisely is the job of the city councilperson. Don't like how your city councilperson voted on things? Vote a new one in, and encourage others to do so as well. Don't like how your mayor runs things? Vote in a new one, and encourage others to do so as well. That, my friends, is the provision already in place to combat the reasons behind Prop. 1 and Prop. 2. And sometimes, it works rather well. Much better than having the city ask my permission to write a check for more than $1 millon. One more thing, thought of on my way to work: If I were (and I'm not saying which side I fall on) in favor the hotel, and if I were (and I'm definitely not, don't have the hands for it) the mayor who brought it up and is championing it, the fact that there is enough hate for this hotel to essentially generate two referendums would give me pause. One, sure. Two? Maybe people really don't like this.

American Idol: The Comment All You Want Edition

Much like Frontburner's comments, American Idol's theme today is disco. Last week, the judges used their only save of the season on Matt Giraud, which means this week two people go home. Wait - did Simon pick that shirt out of the discard pile? And with pretty much no ado, we're hearing Lil Rounds singing "I'm Every Woman." I'm still meh. Her backup singers are outsinging her. She's mostly riffing. And screaming. Paula loves it, of course. Randy agrees with me. It was big, it was grand, but it didn't show off her vocals right. Kara says she's been waiting for her to sing Chaka Khan. But she doesn't think it was worth the wait. Paula says she was on complete vocal rest yesterday. Lil didn't tap into her "inner goddess." Simon says she looks sad. He also said this is probably gonna be her last week. Ouch. Kris is up next - with his guitar. He's doing "She Works Hard for the Money." You know, I never thought of a bluesy, acoustic version of this song, but it's actually good. If he could keep the John Mayer faces to a minimum, I could really see him giving Glambert a run for his money. Kara just keeps repeating his name. She thinks the risky arrangement paid off, and she's impressed. Paula said it had a classy Santana vibe. And then something about men buying women's clothes. IDK. Simon said it was a polar opposite of Lil's, in that it was original, well thought out and not karaoke. Randy called him dawg. And dude. And said he was ready for the big time. Danny is doing Earth, Wind and Fire - "September." I'm getting a distinctly karaoke vibe from this. I mean, seriously, you come on and do this, compared to Kris and knowing Glambert is coming? Oy. When I watch Gokey, I think karaoke meets praise night at the local Baptist church. Randy was worried about his choice. But he said he turned into something that worked for him. Kara was also worried. But she thinks he's an incredible vocalist. Not sure he's memorable. Paula likes that he showed his vocal ability. And his voice is sexy. Simon agreed with everyone. Didn't get star power from the performance. He didn't do anything special. Allison is doing "Hot Stuff." Holy leather Batman. She's like, 17? Oy. And this arrangement. Not sure about. She's taking it rock. The beginning, unsure. But at least she's showing she wants to try to compete with Kris and Glambert. And ya know, it's growin' on me. Randy didn't love the arrangement, but thinks she's one of the best singers in this competition. Kara agrees about the arrangement. But she thinks she picked the right song, and that she's one of the best singers. Paula says something about compromise...likes the arrangement because it was authentic. Simon thinks she's always gonna be the underdog, but he th0ught it was a brilliant performance. Glambert is all cleaned up again, with the suit and the non emo hair. He's singing "If I Can't Have You." But he says he's tweaked it. He's turned it into a ballad. The judges will probably like it. It's kinda like if Celine Dion and Air Supply tongue kissed. Randy thinks he's ready right now. And that he's the hot one tonight, "Amuricah." Kara thinks he's brilliant. And inspiring. Like her boobs. Paula never questions her visceral response when he performs. She felt his pain, and thinks he tore his heart out and left it on the stage. Simon thought he would've done Donna Summer. He loved the originality and that it's memorable. Matt is doing "Staying Alive." Hmm...I dunno. Unless he picks it up, he's not really showing much range. I will say it's different from the original arrangement, but still...hmmm...not that memorable. Randy didn't love the arrangement or song choice, but he thinks he can really sing. He says this group is the most talented group in some time...really? Did you develop amnesia from last season? Kara thought it was song. Paula says he picks songs like she bowls. And this was a strike, not a gutter ball. Simon didn't like it. In the real world, he said, it wasn't that great or original. Anoop is singing "Dim All the Lights." OK. Everyone. SLOWING IT DOWN DOES NOT MAKE IT AN ORIGINAL ARRANGEMENT. I mean, it may be a different one, but they better not make it a practice, or it will become really, really obvious. That being said, I'm not sure I love this song. It feels like I'm trapped in an elevator. A nice one, sure, but still an elevator. Randy didn't love the arrangement, but thinks he can sing. Um, yay? Kara thought it was great and thought it sounded like it could be on the radio. Paula likes his growth. Uh? Simon completely disagrees with them, and thinks it was mediocre at best. So, who will be the bottom three? I'm thinking Lil, Anoop, and possibly Gokey or Giraud. Of course, for some reason, people like to not vote for Allison, too, so she could end up there, too. If she does, and is one of the two to go, will Simon, et. al, regret giving Matt G. the save last week?

In the meantime...

At a loss as to where to find your old Frontburner comment friends? Well, there's always right here, or Trey, or here .... or even here...or here...or here...or here... I also highly recommend here. Any other now former FB commenters out there on the Internets?

In Memoriam: Frontburner Comments

Today, D Magazine publisher Wick Allison announced that Frontburner, the magazine's blog, would no longer allow comments on posts. I can't say I'm really surprised. If pressed to deliniate a time frame, I'd have to say that in the months leading up to the 2008 election, commenting on Frontburner became somewhat like that scene in Forrest Gump where Forrest, Bubba and the rest of the soldiers are following Lt. Dan, cautiously walking, ready to jump behind bushes and into trenches at a moment's handwave of possible gunfire. More often than not, you'd lob a comment onto that road, and hope that nothing blew up. Lord knows that I've been the butt of many a diatribe in the comments section of Frontburner. And yes, I've admitted before that it was annoying, and brought down the level of conversation - partly because it discouraged the non-trollesque commenters from putting in an appearance, and partly because so many times comments were completely deleted, leaving giant, gaping holes - much like if I decided to black out key words in the last chapter of a Harry Potter book. But I do take issue with Mr. Allison essentially calling the experiment a failure. It was not. It produced hilarity. It produced good, salient points. It produced, many times, at least one little corner of the print product. Commenting made readers feel engaged with your product. Sure, I can drop Wick Allison an e-mail, but having done so, well, let's just say I do know that the chances of a reply are slim to none. Not to mention he is completely devaluing the importance of comments. It drove visitors to the Web site. Now, anyone can simply add Frontburner to his or her RSS feed, and since there are no comments to read, will never have the need to come to www.dmagazine.com. I do know having to delete comments and constantly monitor things is a hassle, and with a smaller staff, something that can be difficult to do. But I also know that Wordpress offers several comment approval options, as do many of the other blog options out there. Gawker requires you to basically audition to comment, which is also an option. But don't discount the power those comments had. They corrected instantly when erroneous information got out. They gave you instant feedback. And, more importantly, they gave you a relationship with your readers. In fact, Frontburner is what made me subscribe to D. I wonder how many others did so, as well.

Oh, Really?

Today, Trey Garrison looks at the people behind R.I.P. Dallas. If you're unfamiliar with their work, they've done this overwrought Web site here, and then they've also put signs up all over Dallas - illegally, I might add.

What do you do when you start repeating yourself?

Call yourself Steve Blow, and keep your job. That's what. Has he officially run out of ideas?

Just Plain Wrong Headed

Give all the explanations you want, either side, for why the convention center hotel should or should not be built. But there's one that's been floating around that opens up a slippery slope - and one that could very well defeat the exact reason the Vote Noers say we need to build the hotel - to drive business and development to downtown. Dallas County Commissioner John Wiley Price is the most recent proponent to use this bite-you-in-the-butt reasoning, per DO scribe Sam Merten's paraphrasing:

Price, who Haynes referred to as "our warrior," said the person who has the most to benefit from killing the hotel doesn't even have a vote because he's not a citizen of Dallas (italics mine).

OK. So are we saying now that people and businesses owners who are not Dallas citizens (and therefore cannot vote) do not have any say in what happens in the city they do business in? Are we going to take their tax money for our coffers, but deny them any say? I think that this is what the original, Colonial-era tea partiers had in mind when they threw their protest. So are we now going to travel down this slippery slope where we tell businesses the only time we really want to hear from them is when they write that check to pay taxes? Nobody denies that Harlan Crow has a dog in this hunt. But you know, there are plenty of people on either side with ulterior motives. It's what drives politics, and you'd have to do a complete blood draining followed by a transfusion of pure O neg to get that to change. So let's just drop this particular argument, and go to the meat and potatoes. I mean, is it really all that necessary if the Vote No group's quiver is as full of fully delineated arrows as it claims?

American Idol: Dude, Tarantino?

Cold open with Quentin Tarantino? What was that? Randy Jackson is in a Bill Cosby sweater. Also, the banter before this whole thing starts? Shoot. Me. Or. Them. Whoever, really. Theme: Songs of the Cinema, guided by Quentin Tarantino. Oh dear. And it's also a big ol' schmoozelschnitzen for his new movie, "The Inglorious Basterds." First up, Allison. She's singing, "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing," by Aerosmith. Can I just say Little Miss Kool-Aid Hair is the one of the few contestants this year who doesn't sound like she wandered off a Carnival Cruise ship? But this ain't so good. Oh look, Katie Couric. And Little Stevie. Was that Chevy Chase? Paula says she's possessed by Adam. What the what? Simon says she's the girls' only hope in this competition. OH, and only two judges are commenting per contestant because they went over or something. I zoned out during the explanation. Uggggggggghhhh....Anoop, dahling, "Everything I'd Do, I'd Do It For You?" Really? And again, why is QT giving musical advice? Couldn't Anoop have picked a power ballad that was more current, and less something I heard in the elevator? Randy: Dawg. Dawgitty dawg Anoop dawg dawwggggy.....you found your zone dude, dawg, dawgy. Kara: First, look at my boobs. You've found your place. Pop songs, and adding something something. They were coming from your heart. Simon looks like he wants to die. Glambert is doing "Born to Be Wild." QT thinks he's a rock star. Glambert said something about electronica. It's really kinda U2-y and Duran Durany with some old-skool INXS, with a touch of Geritol, because this song is hella old. Seriously? No new songs? I will say, Glambert's got the metal band yelp going. There's a tranny in the audience blowing kisses. If that's not a tranny, I apologize, you're a very handsome woman. Paula: You're shakin' up this whole competition, fortune rewards the brave, fantastic.... Simon: Vocally incredible, downside is like watching the Rocky Horror musical in parts. Simon liked it, but last week was more original. Matt Giraud. Five bucks he's singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" or something 500 years old. GEEZUS. Another Bryan Adams. "Have You Ever Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Loved a Woman?" Matt's behind the piano. Given the song, this isn't sucking as much as I thought it could. I still don't wanna hear it, but I'm not using Kleenex to wipe the blood from my ears, either. Randy: Said it was interesting. Rough at the bridge. The thing for me for you...MANGLED MANGLED MANGLED. Randy. Stop. Seriously. "You fell down something something for me for you." Kara: Does he do a rock song or a pop song? Tonight a rock song, she says. What the what? What kind of new age Kara Math works that out? Danny Gokey is next. Iron your jacket much? "Endless Love." Oy. SERIOUSLY THEY'VE MADE SONGS AFTER 1990. YOU CAN SING ONE IF YOU WANT. Meh. I am meh about this performance. Paula: From the opening I wasn't sure that the key should've been lowered. It's a magical place. You pulled something something something. Simon: Can't fault the way he sang the song. Was disappointed that he did such a traditional version. Kris is next. He's going to be making John Mayer faces to "Falling Softly," from the movie Once. FINALLY, a current song. It's actually a song that's suited for his voice. Do we have our dark horse? So far, this is my favorite of the night. Randy: Dawg. Dawg. Check it out man. Dude, for me, for you tonight. I don't know. It never quite caught on for me. Can't you do some Mariah Carey? Kara: Difficult to pick an obscure song like that, but for me, it was one of your best moments ever. Paula just peed herself. Lil Rounds is going to be doing "The Rose." In related news, Tammy at the pool hall also picked this song for Karaoke Night last week. Let's see who does better. Judging from the video, it's going to suck. She's flat. AGAIN. Seriously. How did she manage to stay in key for the 6.3 seconds it took to audition initially? Like I said last week, she's gotta blow 'em out of the water, and this ain't doin' it. I can think of things that would've been possibly better. Something from the Chicago soundtrack. Something from Little Shop of Horrors. Even "I Will Always Freakin' Love Yoooooooouuuuuuuuuu." But she's flat. It ain't song choice so much as it is her bucket's got a hole in it. Paula: Compliments the songwriter. Ouch. No actual criticism. Just the song was pretty. Simon: I think that you're getting this completely wrong. It was too soft for you, too middle of the road. There are no excuses anymore. You are not the artist we met seven or eight weeks ago. Now Lil is sassing Simon. She ain't helpin' her cause. OK, bottom three? Anoop and Lil, and then possibly Allison or Matt. I could also see Gokey in there, but I'm pretty comfortable with the four, really. What do you think?

Commenters ...

Commenters over on TDMN's Metro blog are kind of eating Steve Blow's known-to-be-extensive, two-hour lunch.

Saturday Morning Whisky

to go with your tango and your foxtrot. Here you go.

Uh....

back to you, Trey.

Head Slapper of the Day: State Rep. Betty Brown

*smack* From the Associated Press:

The Texas Democratic Party demanded an apology Wednesday from state Rep. Betty Brown, R-Terrell for suggesting Asian-descent voters should adopt names that are "easier for Americans to deal with."

American Idol: The Results Show Edition

Forget Flo-Rida, Seacrest! OMGSABCDEFG it's Mario Lopez! So, after reviewing the performances, I predict our verifiable two in the bottom three will likely be Scott and Lil. Allison, although the judges liked her, could end up in the three because she seems to land there every week. Kris Allen had a weak performance, so he could be there, too. Adam, obvs, is fine this week again. Simon gave him a standing O. And that's not a euphemism. Apparently, right now, SeacrestOUT! is implying Simon is old. By playing Frankie Avalon. And then Avalon comes out and serenades Simon with "Venus." Because Simon is old. The cheesy group number is a song from the first year of Idol. Crap. It's "Can't Get You Out of My Head." EVERY time this song is played, I have to powerwash it from my brains. I adore the Anoop/Kris bumper car sitch with Scott, as they bump him around the stage like a shuffleboard whatsit. And can I just say that I don't get the love for Lil Rounds? She may have a good voice, but she's tone deaf. Even now, she's off. OFF. WAY OFF. Like, in Oklahoma when you meant to go to New Mexico, OFF. And juxtaposed with Allison's open of the number, she sounds even worse. Prediction: If Allison gets voted off tonight, the judges will use their save. Now the Ford commercial. They stole Britney Spears album concept and her song, but it's supposed to be an old time magic show. Director: Scott has no idea if he looks menacing. Something tells me that this is not the first time Adam has worn blue false eyelashes, either. "You'll strike a pose, and it'll be kinda magical." OK, can I direct the next one? I can do that, for gosh sakes. This is the most boring Ford commercial ever. And that's saying something, considering Bill Ford used to do them. The mayor of Kalamazoo, Mich., is in the house. Why they didn't open with that, I don't know. Totally buried the lede there, SeacrestOUT. Randy thinks Adam was the bomb last night. Kara didn't try to count anything, thank beezus. Paula says he knows who he is. Adam is safe. Duh. Least. Suspenseful. Moment. Ever. BTW, WTH is up with Paula's gloves? Anoop is in the bottom three. Kris is safe. Hmmm...if Lil and Scott aren't in the other two seats, there is no justice in Idol land. SeacrestOUT just asked who will fill the other stools. Uh..dude...poor choice of words. Am I the only one who immediately thought of a dirty diaper? Flo Rida. I learned today that Flo Rida has a published number, and responds to texts. I do not know who the girl with the goat voice is. But I want to learn to skip in stilettos like that. Without, you know, dying. OK, I do not know what ROOTS stands for. Still. Flo Rida, enunciate. He's really sweaty, too, IJS. Danny is safe. Matt will be safe, because that gives three left to make sweat for good telebishuns.... Hah! Called it! Matt is safe. Now for Scott. Called it! Scott is headed to the stools, too. Can we call them something else? Please? Allison and Lil are last. Allison, of the Kool-Aid (OH YEAH!) hair, is safe. Lil's in the bottom. If they save Lil, I will throw something. Probably. Maybe. I dunno. But I will be irate. Dude...sweet yams are 57 cents a pound. And, btw, the food that I've eaten at Cotton Patch has NEVER looked like that. OK...we're back. And Kelly Pickler is going to sing something. What is with the backup singers? They're not with her, or she's not with them. And she sounds kinda nasal and screamy. Now comes the part where she flirts with Simon. Pickler, you did this last year, and Simon gave you the same look, like you farted in his face. Good god. Someone turn her mic off. Ok, the three. Lil is safe. It's between Anoop and Scott. Ok, now I'm torn. As much as I think Scott needs to go now, the thought of having to listen to that tragedy that was last night's performance one more time makes me die a little inside. I wonder if it's Anoop, if the judges will save him? Anoop looks pissed. Scott looks puzzled. Scott has the lowest number of votes. Anoop is safe. But now we have to listen to ... the Lido deck. He's a thoroughly charming third choice for wedding singer, but American Idol, and someone you'd burn your one save on? Not so much. Where'd Randy go? I see Paula and Kara and Simon. This bodes ill, I think, for his chances of the save. And OMG that tragic high note. I has a sad. STOP. Oh, and Paula, Kara? HE CAN'T SEE YOU DANCE. Oohh...Simon just said two people think he should stay, and two should go. Boys against girls? FIVEBUCKSSAYSYES. Simon's thinking they may want to use that save on one of the others. Paula and Kara say he did well before.... Simon tells him it's over. Was it the right choice? Yes. He was a really nice guy, obviously, but as the weeks progressed, the difference between him and say, Adam and Alison, and even Matt and Kris, becomes obvious. Lil Rounds? Pull something awesome out next week, or you'll be gone, too.

American Idol...Had a Meeting Last Night So This Is What You Get, Edition

I had a meeting last night. Missed Idol. Tonight's the results show, so I'll live blog that instead. But here you go. Adam Lambert Allison Iraheta Matt Giraud Kris Allen Danny Gokey Anoop Desai Lil Rounds Scott MacIntyre

Moment of Something...

Zac Efron's Pool Party from Zac Efron

Bad sign...

Fark makes fun of Plano ISD.

We all know ...

We all know what this guy would say about this.

Beyoncé - New Music - More Music Videos

Know Any?

Trey Garrison wants your tips for his new feature, "Good Cop/Bad Cop." He explains here.

Head Smack of the Day

The DMN reports that Farmers Branch has spent $2 million since 2006 on its ill-advised rental ban. And it will cost more before everything is said and done. I think we can honestly say it wasn't the most fiscally conservative windmill the city could've tilted at, considering the course of wisdom likely would've been to keep an eye on another city's case as it made its trek through the judicial system up to the Supreme Court, and then tailored the ordinance accordingly. As the bills mount up, will we see a massive turnover in council seats come the next election?

How Do You Save the Dallas Morning News?

In the wake of another round of devastating layoffs at the Dallas Morning News, one might be hard pressed to find any silver lining that hasn't already been sold for scrap to pay for A.H. Belo bonuses. But maybe there could be, if there was a dream scenario where someone actually stopped and thought about not only the good of the company, but also the good of the community it serves. As I've said before, I do not think the demise of the Dallas Morning News came solely - as some insist- on it's politics. I do think that some of it comes from its hypocrisy - and I point to the fact that every rah-rah convention center hotel story never mentions that the DMN parent company stands to benefit greatly if the hotel is built, because the property it owns adjacent to the site will go up in valuation. I mean, heck, it doesn't have to mention it in every story, I suppose. I'd be happy if its editorial board saw fit to add it to its missives occasionally, and if the metro desk would insist it be added to anything its columnists put out. But I digress. I said this last year, but it's still true - technology and our industry's failure to be early adopters of it is responsible for, in my opinion, 60% of the crisis we're now facing. Instead of partnering with established leaders in technology, we insisted the Internet was a fad, and eventually the hubbub would die down. So aggregators came along and left us in the dust. This is the past, however. I do think that there will always be somewhat of a market for the dead tree version of a newspaper. But producing one and maintaining the status of Dallas' only daily may take some reversal in mindset for both management and subscribers. In short, the DMN is going to have to go backwards to go forward. It's going to have to embrace the notion that people want a community feel from their newspapers, as evidenced by the fact that many community newspapers are faring far better than their large metro counterparts. That's not to say that they haven't been affected by the economy as well, but they can weather the storm far better because their communities are invested in the paper. The bigger the paper, the bigger the egos, the bigger the disconnect between writer and reader. How do you keep that connection? How do these small weekly community papers do it? Subscribers see themselves in the paper - literally. They don't just see their communities represented, but they can actually see their names in the paper on a semi-frequent basis. Think of this: In Dallas, there are people who will never see their names in print. Ever. They'll never do anything wrong, and since the DMN doesn't offer more than the perfunctory acknowledgement of a sparse set of milestones, there's a good chance they'll never see themselves in the paper. So run the honor rolls. Run the birth announcements from the hospitals. Run them only in the paper, not online. Having worked at a small paper, I can tell you that our best-selling issues were the ones that contained the honor rolls. Mothers like seeing their kid's names in print. Period. Secondly, embrace this pared-down version as a positive if you work it right. At one of my first papers, everyone did everything. Yes, you had a beat, but you also knew how to cover a city council meeting. You knew who your county commissioners were. Everyone had to know where to find the police reports at the station. Everyone had an obit day, which meant you didn't have to hire an obit clerk. Everyone had to take turns being the reporter on call on the weekends. You had a Sunday package every six weeks or so (it rotated among all the reporters), and a Monday profile, which also rotated. And with that smaller, streamlined staff, the paper managed to put out major award-winning stuff. You can cover a beat and engage in enterprise reporting at the same time. I know for a fact it can be done. I come from a place that sounds almost mythical - a place with three major metro dailies in a metro area smaller than Dallas proper. But it happens. All are doing as well as can be expected in the economy, and you're not hearing about massive layoffs, either. So how do you save the DMN? You realize that there's no need for scads of columnists and editorial board members. You realize that to keep the ship afloat and on course, everyone must row, together, which means that you become a general surgeon and not a brain surgeon. The valuable reporter in the new reality newsroom is water - you can pour him or her out and she will travel to the things that need the coverage, filling in ably. In other words, there is no room for ego in the new news room.

Sometimes...

Daddy just needs to drink.

Question of the Day:

Can you blog about both entertainment-related subjects (such as American Idol) and serious subjects (like the economy and politics, etc.) without it diminishing one or the other?

The Fact of the Matter

Nobody, I'm sure, that is sitting around trying to look busy while waiting to find out if DMN HR is going to call your name and give you a box, will want to read this right now. In fact, I'm actually encouraging you not to. Not for a week, at least. Take a few days to let what just happened digest. If you indeed got laid off, take a nice, long long weekend and enjoy things you probably didn't get to do much of while you worked your derriere off at the company that just let you go. If you are safe, well, lordy. Because it's the safe ones that are going to have some tougher decisions to make in the next few months and year. Do you stay at a job that may indeed do another round of insane layoffs where people who do very little keep their jobs, but very talented journalists are let go? Do you continue to stay in a medium that is amassing more and more casualties on a daily basis? Someone who commented on another blog - on a post about today being the RIF day for the DMN newsroom - was called a jerk for pointing out that it's time to grow up. Well, he's kinda right. Let me say right now, I adore writing. I loved reporting, and if the economy was more amenable, I'd still be in the trenches. But there comes a time when you just have to face facts. If you have a family to support and a mortgage and two car payments and college tuitions to save for, it may very well be in your best interest to ask yourself, "Am I a journalist, or am I a reporter at the Dallas Morning News?" If it's the former, you'll be fine. You'll find a way to keep being a journalist, whether it be helping a company craft its public persona, going back to school to teach future journalists, or any of the other jobs that are out there for people who are good with words. You may stay at the DMN knowing you're gambling on getting laid off at some point, or having to work heinous hours doing the work of three, but you'll be amassing options. If it's the latter, it's time for a gut check. While the two are not mutually exclusive, of course, if your entire identity is tied up in working at the Dallas Morning News, you're setting yourself up for a fall, my friend. Such a thing is conducive for sticking your head in the sand, only to have it yanked out one day by a middle manager with a list, who hands you a box so you can clean out your desk. You will be shocked. You will have no Plan B. You will wonder how this happened, while the people around you bite their tongues to keep from asking how you didn't see it coming. You will be shocked to find out that jobs for straight up journalists are hard to come by, unless you're willing to go back to journalism's roots and work at a small weekly. Don't get me wrong - in either scenario, getting laid off sucks. There's no feel-good story with an RIF. And while you may not have control over when it happens, you can have control over how well you are prepared for it. And that, folks, is being an adult about it.

Oy ..

Back to you, Jim.

Today?

I may talk righteously indignant smack about certain DMNers, but today, according to the Associated Press, is the day companywide layoffs start. I'm guessing the DMNCuts blog will be fired up and following the sad news today. So everyone (including you, Steve Blow) good luck.

Dear Amanda Cobra:

You are my hero of the day. That is all. Me

Dear George Rodrigue:

I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Kettle. You probably know him, because you called him black a week or so ago. Well, he'd like to tell you today that you need to legally change your name to pot, because you're black, too. Hugs and kisses, Me

American Idol: Quit Saying Dawg, For the Love of Pete

Dinner is simmering, and the theme is songs that make you seem current or hip hop or country or something. Top 40 or something. Whatever. This is quite possibly the most karaoke group of individuals in Idol history, and that's saying something when you consider this is the same show that birthed the "Soul Patrol," or whatever horrible thing that was. Anoop picked Usher, and a song I've probably scrubbed from my brain three summers ago. No somebody liked it, btw. Except Paula. She wants him to work on his stage presence, "instead of a lot of stuff going back and forth." Randy no likey. Simon thought it was a complete and utter mess. I don't remember it, because I nodded off. It gave Simon a headache. Megan Joy? I'm not even sure what that was. Oy. Paula is about to call her pretty. That means you sucked. I think she just told her to take a bus ride. I don't know. And she needs to rip the heart out of someone. And feed it to Paula. Apparently. Simon said she was boring. Randy said it was like watching paint dry. They keep saying she needs to lean toward Amy Winehouse, Adele and Duffy. Hi! I've been saying that for THREE WEEKS. Danny is singing "What Hurts the Most," by Rascal Flatts. Beginning? KARY-EFFING-OAKE. Second thought? Train wreck. If every judge likes this, I will quit drinking this delicious confection of alcohol in this here glass. If there's any left. I plan on chugging it really fast, just in case. Paula liked it. But I'm pretty sure if a lamp came out, she'd love it. The camera just cut to a tranny holding an "I love Danny" sign. Crap. Simon likes it. Paula liked it. Gaw. Randy liked it. Mother eff. Ok, Kara, I hate your guts, but if you can do me a solid and NOT INTERRUPT MY PLANNED EVENING OF DRINKING THINGS, I would appreciate it. I will also quit making fun of you. I hate Kara. He moved everyone? Now I need to drink. OK, I'm scrolling back, and I've realized that I said I'd quit drinking that particular drink. I will. I will switch to a new one. Allison is singing "Don't Speak," by No Doubt. She said she grew up listening to No Doubt. I just felt myself die a little inside, and this tiny voice started saying that I'm old. To shut it up, I'm going to drink something. I'm meh about this. I am. She started out decent, but she seems a little off... Randy made fun of her dress. Kara said she sounded forced, and it wasn't her best. And then she pooped in her seat(I hate Kara). Paula says her intonation masturbates. Something about a karate chop. Simon says he can't ignore the outfit. "Tonight's theme is Halloween," he said. She sounded like someone's precocious daughter trying to be a rock star, he said. Um, yeah? Isn't that the point? Simon said she shouted the song. Randy disagrees, dawg. Scott is singing "Just the Way You Are," by Billy Joel. Which is way current and really up to date. He says it's just going to be him and the piano. Radical change. OK, his hair is less short bus. I will say. The stylist got a hold of him, and convinced him that someone that can actually see his head should comb his hair. But musically? Still church talent show. Of course, the judges are probably going to love him. And then I'll need to drink again. Kara: I think you made a very smart choice. I'm going to now say something that allows me to point repeatedly at my boobs. Paula: I'm most proud of you because you're blind. It has nothing to do with your challenge, it has everything to do with what makes me forget about that challenge, so much so that I suggest you dance around more and lose the piano. Simon: Your best performance by a country mile so far. It's a different Scott. Randy: One of the best of the night, dawg. Dawg. Dawgitty dawg dawg dawg! Matt Giraud is doing The Fray, "I Found You." He sounds like he's trying too hard. And kind of goaty. He's getting better as the song goes on, but still goaty. The swaybots are scaring me. I don't think I'd want to be surrounded by all those dudes and 10 year old girls. It didn't totally suck, I guess. Kind of timberlakean with a dash of suck. Paula: I like it when you rip it. We know who you are! Simon: You should be happy Matt, b/c we don't like you this week. Hah! Simon. Agrees. With. Me. This was just uncomfortable Randy: Check it out, dawg. It wasn't the great song for you (for me.) He thinks he should've done One Republic or Timberlake. Kara: Look at my boobs! Oh, and you sucked it this week. Lil has been getting nailed by the judges. That's what SHE said. She decided to go with Celine Dion, "I Surrender." Did I mention my intense hate for Celine Dion? Look! It's Lil Rounds, and her wig. Randy: Young it up. Kara: Singer that can just let it out. Oh, and look at my boobs. Paula: I don't want to see an adult contemporary Lil Rounds. I want to see the joy something something. Simon: Safe song. Quite similar to a wedding performance. Suggested "One," by U2. This was honestly so old-fashioned. All your personality is being sucked out of you. Lil's little kid wants to punch Randy. Or so she said. Instead she gave Randy a big hug. Adam is doing "Play that Funky Music White Boy," from 1976. He's kept the Elvis hair. He's slowed down the song and further funkified it, which is odd since the song already had the word funky in it. It's like Lenny Kravitz and Adam Levine had a baby song, but then it did some heavy narcotics. Everybody loved it, you can see it. Paula: True something something shatters something. Steven Tyler, Mick Jagger, Adam Lambert. Simon: That was very brave. It was original. Randy: You worked it out. You are definitely in the star zone baby. Kara: Every week, I cannot wait to something something. It was like Studio 57 up in here. Which is like Studio 54, but the velvet rope restrictions are looser, and the strongest drug you get is whatever's in Paula's cup, and she ain't sharin'. Kris is going to put "Ain't No Sunshine" in the John Mayer Song Transmogrifier, and make guitar faces on the stage. Only with a piano. He's trying to have a moment. I've just realized what his face reminds me of, when he sings. Randy: Right now in this moment, you've been slaying 'em dude. So creative, so cool. Lovin' you! Kara: I can count! See? Paula: You took a 30 year old song and made it like I'm hearing it for the first time. Simon: Said he brought some confidence this time. Very good arrangement. So that's that. Who's in the bottom three? I'm thinking Megan, Scott, and Allison or Anoop. Who are you picking?

Re: Lingering Questions Remain, Much Like a Dingleberry

I encourage everyone to go see Trey Garrison's excellent read of the situation.

Lingering Questions Remain, Much Like a Dingleberry

Everyone finds the story of Robert Powell and Ryan Moats to be reprehensible. But, as I read over my notes from Chief David Kunkle's press conference and the media coverage, I find myself with niggling questions about this case that I just haven't seen answered. They are the dingleberries of this case, if you will. 1. Would the media have gotten all hypercoverage on Powell if Moats was an auto mechanic from the Grove, or a mortgage banker from Plano, instead of an NFL running back? I'm not asking if Kunkle's reaction would've been the same - I think it's obvious from the press conference that he would've handled this case the same. But would we have known about it if Moats wasn't who he was? 2. I thought I had a fairly good grasp of local geography and county and city lines. To my best estimation, the Collin County line is about from Bush north. The city of Dallas starts somewhere in south Richardson. Which makes this question obvious, to me and a couple others: What was Powell doing in Plano, and why was he pulling someone over - in Plano? And how would any ticket he wrote be good, considering he's DPD, and in Plano? What questions still linger for you guys? UPDATE: This may explain at least part of the second question. It seems he lives in Carrollton, which means he could've conceivably be driving from/to home? UPDATE AGAIN: Commenter Steve explains - check it out!

Kunkle on Powell, live blog

So far... 1. It seems the Plano PD officer who appeared in the tape is the one that ratted out Powell. He told his supervisor, who talked to someone at the DPD. 2. They've reviewed the tapes from the patrol car and are embarrassed. 3. The majority of the comments in various publications are the same Kunkle has had, he said. 4. "It's just extraordinarily disappointing," Kunkle said. 5. Legally, yes, he could've arrested Moats. But he shouldn't have threatened it. "I can't imagine a worse circumstance" than the one with Moats, Kunkle said. Police officers shouldn't arrest because someone made them mad, he added. 6. "I think someone whose never been through police training should know how to handle this," Kunkle said, adding that it falls under the heading of common sense. 7. Found the berating of Moats, the threats were embarrassing. The fact that hospital personnel tried to intervene and he disregarded that was also embarrassing. He may have also lied to the Plano officer about the genesis of the "pursuit." 8. Powell should've apologized for drawing down on the Moats family once he ascertained the situation, and then immediately holstered it. 9. However, Kunkle said you can't tell from the tape if he merely drew his gun, or if he pointed it at someone. He admits to drawing it. 10. There's been a recommendation made that the citation for running the red light be dropped. One of the assistant chiefs has called the Moats to apologize. 11. He likely faces administrative charges related to conduct that reflects poorly on the department, as well as something involving the threats, as well as the circumstances of the pursuits. 12. Any of those charges could lead to his dismissal. 13. Powell's record is fairly clean, with one complaint that was not sustained. 14. Assistant Chief Floyd Simpson said Powell thinks he was doing his job. "It seemed the compassion was not there," he said of Powell, "and I was hoping for a little more."

Jim Schutze...

...head combustion in 3....2....1...

Words May Fail Me...

Dear Steve Blow: In the immortal words of Wayne Campbell, asphinctersayswhat? Love, Me P.S. Some people liked it, but are legally not allowed to put a ring on it. Some people like it, but should definitely not put a ring on it.

Uh...

So today I read a story about a contretemps at the Dallas City Council meeting. It was - surprise - about the Trinity River levees and was - surprise again - involving Angela Hunt and Mitchell Rasansky, who accused Mayor Tom Leppert and City Manager Mary Suhm of flat out not telling the council about the issues with the levees. But the weird part - or rather, the part that gave me pause? Dwaine Caraway's reaction. I can understand defending people you respect. But I dunno - a simple, "I knew about it, maybe you weren't paying attention," might have been a little more on point than what the story says happened. The pause button quote:

I know a bunch of stuff that ought to be out here in the public and that would be most embarrassing and everything else," Caraway said, quickly adding that he wouldn't do so. "If we ... keep on beating them up, then I'm going to start doing some beatin' 'em up. And if I get to beatin' 'em up, it's really going to be something."

So he says he wouldn't use it, but then it sounds like he's reminding Hunt and Rasansky he has dirt on them, and would use it if he needed to. Which sounds like he would use it. Which confuses me. I mean, if it's something that would make them poor public servants, if it's something the voters should know, isn't he duty-bound to say whatever it is? Don't get me wrong, Dwaine Caraway has done a lot of good for his constituents, and you'd be hard-pressed to find another council person so involved in his area of the city. But now it feels like he knows something bad, nefarious, evil, and any/or any other word that connotates that, about these two people. And now it almost sounds like he's willing to keep it hidden - for a price. And that, sadly, is politics as usual. Say it ain't so, Dwaine.

American Idol: Let the Live Blogging Commence

OK, lemme say first that I didn't roll in until 7:17 because of a Braum's related culinary emergency. So I'm starting with Kris Allen's performance on Motown Week. First, has Smokey Robinson made a deal with Satan? I don't think he's aged in 30 years. As for Allen, no, Kara, he didn't do James Taylor. He did John Mayer doing James Taylor. Sure, it was pleasant, but when is someone gonna call him on that? Simon just read Paula's lines. "Believe in yourself?" Really? Up next? Scott, at the piano, of course, despite Paula's request last week that the blind guy move around the stage more. After the break, Scott basically says he's not gonna dance around the stage because he'll die. So he sings "You Can't Hurry Love." Smokey liked it. I think it sounds like every damned thing he ever sings. My prediction? America kept him on just long enough for him to be able to be on the tour. He goes this week, or next. This just sounds Branson-esque. "I think you pleased both Simon and I," Paula said. That's all I could actually understand. But I know Simon doesn't look pleased. "Oh dear," he said. Simon hates it. Dear lord...I almost always agree with Simon. I clearly need to start wearing my black t shirts tighter. Holy moly. Randy agrees, too. "Hotel sounding," he said. Kara was glad he brought tempo, but he raped the melody or something. I dunno. I tend to zone out when she talks. Paula and Simon get into it, and then Paula gives Simon a coloring book and crayons. Then SeacrestOUT explains to a clearly flummoxed Scott what the heck is going on. And I feel like I need a Silkwood shower after watching all that. Now Megan, who has kind of this Duffy thing going with her voice, maybe with a little Adele in there. She's gonna sing, "For Once in My Life." I know it may not be the most popular choice, but I really like this girl, if she could get past the weird dancing thing she likes to throw into everything. Wait..is she barefoot? Anyway...Paula's dancing, but I'm pretty sure she dances to the toilet flushing. Whoa...Randy says it's a train wreck. Kara doesn't either. She thinks she should've done "My Guy." Paula, "Your stunning beauty just takes my breath away...." but she agrees that it wasn't the right song. Simon hates, too. C'mon guys...it wasn't THAT horrible. OK, during commercial, I should discuss my usual Idol blogging from last year. It was a performer by performer breakdown, complete with quotes from the judges and handicapping for the results show. I promise to do that next week, but this week, it's gonna be pretty freeform. And I really mean next week will look like last season's blogging, because I adore trying to figure out what Paula Abdul is saying. I'm nearly always wrong, but the results are hilarious. Also, I have to say that so far, I really don't think this crowd is as strong as last seasons. By this time last year, there was a clear, definitive front running group. This time, I feel meh about everyone. Last year was the dessert buffet - Ooh! Cheesecake? Eclairs? Black Forest Cake? SIGN ME UP. This year? Green bean bar. Anoop has stones. He's going to sing "Baby, Baby." IN FRONT OF SMOKEY. I don't think Smokey hates any of them. As for Anoop's beginning? Meh. It's starting like Smokey on Hycodan. Sure, he can hit the notes.....but. Meh. Kara: There are moments in your chest...wha? What? You can sing. You have a skill set. (I don't like Kara. There, I said it.) Paula: You're crazy? Your delivery, its sweet its tender. I'd like the teriaki chicken now. Simon: I think you looked as if you were half asleep. Randy: You used the serious Anoop dawg. Michael Sarver - from Jasper, Texas - was sick, didn't go to Detroit. But Smokey came to him. Smokey said his performance was a little weak. Again, pretty much this ENTIRE group makes me feel like I'm enjoying the Lido deck on a Carnival Cruise line. I wouldn't jump off the boat and swim away out of hatred, but I wouldn't rush the stage, either. They bore me. I blame Kara. I've decided it's her fault. You can't talk me out of it. Paula says it sounded Las Vegas lounge-y. "You really need to be driving that song...and not let the reverse happen. I'm sorry Michael, I love you very much." Simon: I have no idea what you just said...Michael, I couldn't wait for it to end. Ouch. He said Michael has no shot at winning with that vocal. "That was below par." Randy: The song was too big for you. Dawg. Kara: blah blah blah artistry. I'm chewing my own face. blah blah blah Lil wants to do "Heat Wave." It's actually a good choice for her. Smokey loves it. Whoa...Lil Rounds with Brill Building hair. Dude. And now she's kinda off. She's really off. But Paula's dancing...or maybe she's got gas. As for Lil...thanks, but can you move over slightly so I can reach the crabcakes on the buffet before the ship shuts it down? Randy: This song for me for you....the front of the song was torture for me. It wasn't the right kind of song for me for you. Note to Randy: That syntax is crazy awful. Kara: You look great. Blah blah blah. You're a diva...If you don't nail it this week....blah blah blah Hold on! I'm enjoying the sound of my voice right now, so quit booing me. Paula: I disagree completely. I do agree with the fact you look beautiful...Like I heard a song for the very first time. Simon: It was an authentic tribute to Motown. It sounded like it was too fast. I don't think it gives you a moment. Simon says she's one of the best singers of the competition. Bar is low. Adam (who alternately makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a pickle fork and applaud), is singing "Tracks of My Tears." Holy crap. He looks...normal...Not like he ran away with Pete Wentz's flatironed hair. Adam cleans up well, and this is easily heading toward the best performance of the night. It's low-key, nonbombastic, and his experience is showing here. He may be this season's David Cook, which could at least make things more interesting. And he gets a standing O from Smokey. Kara stood up. Kara: One of the best performances of the night. Blah blah blah... Paula: you have that gutted instinct...I love the clean look. Very handsome and classy. You are it! Again, she didn't tag him, so it's not the game, I guess.... Simon: It was THE best performance of the night. You tonight really have emerged, to me, as a star. Randy: You can pull it down and straighten it out... Now it's Danny Gokey. He's gonna sing, "Get Ready." Smokey gave him some advice about not letting the backup singers do the heavy lifting. Which Gokey ignored, apparently. I think Smokey was right, and has what - a bajillion years of experience in arranging and songwriting and Gokey just sang in front of Mariah Carey's guitar player, a song writer and a woman who once danced with a cartoon....but sure, DIY, Gokey. Paula: You undeniable, always reliable...something something week? Weak? Simon: I thought that was clumsy and amatuerish. Randy: It wasn't your best performance, I loved the energy. Kara: blah blah blah danny fan. Allison is gonna sing "Papa Was a Rolling Stone." Dear Allison, Kool-Aid is not a hair color. Did she get dressed in the dark? Or maybe Scott dressed her. "Does this make me look stupid, Scott?" Scott: "No, I don't think you look stupid at all." Really, Allison and Adam are probably the strongest contenders, in my opinion. That child has a set of pipes on her, if she can get away from my personal pet peeve (the Mariah Finger Z in the air), I'll love her. Randy: You're one of the dopest singers in this whole thing this season. Kara: Oh My God. blah blah blah America..singing for 400 years...blah blah blah...you can't teach that! Look at me! Paula now has a mustache, apparently drawn by Simon. "You are awesome...you belong in the competition...." Simon: You are a survivor. That was really one of your best performances you've ever done. Dear lord...did anyone get a screen shot of Kara and Paula looking like a pre-makeout, Skinamax thing going on? And finally, who goes tomorrow? Who's your bottom three? I'm thinking Sarver, Scott and possibly Matt or Lil. Comments are open!

Someone really has a hate for...

Rod Dreher. Apparently a recent post on homosexuality has really peeved Instaputz.

Ruh-Roh

So now what?

Wherein she takes a brief break from the salt mines...

Sorry for the delay in posting - actual work began eating into my time to write. I promise to get cracking in the next few days. In the meantime, in light of city council candidate Charles “Chazz” Redd's newest campaign photo, I give you a new list of people now qualified to run for Dallas City Council: 1. Sylvester Stallone 2. Chuck Norris 3. Harrison Ford 4. Frank Drebin 5. Angelina Jolie 6. Lt. Dan 7. Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore 8. Stewie Griffin Can you think of any more? Comments are open.

Lazy Weekend: Easy Chinese Chicken Dinner

This makes enough to feed five field hands, a basketball team, or two people for three days of dinners. Since ordering Chinese food in the same amount would be cost prohibitive, try this more economical option instead. Easy Chicken Chinese Dinner 3 boneless chicken breasts, rough chopped into cubes 1 small or ½ a large onion, rough chopped into cubes 1 cup of fresh mushrooms, sliced 1 can of bamboo shoots, drained 1 can of water chestnuts 1 tsp of garlic powder ½ tsp of cumin 1/8 tsp (in other words, a light sprinkling) of red pepper flakes 1 tbsp lemon juice 1 tbsp soy sauce 2 tbsp olive oil or peanut oil, or corn oil. In other words, oil. 2 tbsp corn starch 1 ½ cups chicken broth Any other veggies, in ½ cup increments – broccoli, carrots, bell pepper. Heat the oil in a large skillet or wok. Add chicken and onion, and cook until chicken is browned on all sides. Add mushrooms and any fresh vegetables, cook for about 10 minutes. Add garlic powder, cumin, red pepper flakes, lemon juice and soy sauce, and stir. Add water chestnuts and bamboo shoots, stir. Cook for about 5 more minutes. While that’s going on, mix the corn starch and chicken broth in a container you can seal – then shake it until you don’t see cornstarch on the bottom (a jar works well). Pour slowly into the pan at medium heat, stirring and being careful to not let it clump up (if it does, just add a teaspoon or so of broth or water, and stir some more). You probably won’t use all the mixture, because you’ll need enough room to stir. When the mixture has thickened, take it off the flame. Serve with rice.

Lazy Weekend: Italian Turkey Meatloaf

This meatloaf recipe is low-fat, nutritious, and really good the next day as a sandwich meat, with a little marinara. I usually serve it with a salad and some kind of risotto or pilaf. What's nice about it is you can put it together the night before, and then pop it in the oven about an hour before you want to have dinner. It's great any time of the week because of that, but it's also nice on the weekend, because it basically has five ingredients. Italian Turkey Meatloaf 1 pound ground turkey meat 1 package Jennie O Italian Sausage, spicy or hot ½ cup grated romano cheese (reserve two tablespoons) ½ tablespoon Italian seasoning 1 8oz can of diced stewed tomatoes, drained (reserve ¼ cup) Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray loaf pan with olive oil spray. Mix turkey meat, turkey sausage, seasoning, cheese and tomatoes, then form into a loaf in the loaf pan. Drizzle on the rest of the tomatoes on top, and sprinkle the rest of the cheese on top. Bake for 45 minutes. (Note, if you're pulling it out of the fridge after making it the night before, you may need to adjust how long you bake it. Trial and error, my friend.)

Lazy Weekend: Glorious Morning Bread (Or Muffins. Whatevs)

The nice thing about lazy weekends is the fact that sleeping in is the vital part of one. You wake when you want, and automatically feel hungry. This quick bread can be whipped up in a total of about 35 minutes or so (unless you're a slow reader, and have a shaky grasp of basic units of measurement - in which case, you need to be studying, not reading blogs), and is so good you'll forget it's also nutritious. Yes, I do start with a muffin mix from a box. Sure, you can start from complete scratch, but that would be work, and then it's not a lazy weekend. Glorious Morning Bread 1 box bran muffin mix (I prefer Hodgson Mill's version, which can be purchased at Central Market) 1 egg 1/2 cup milk 2 mashed bananas 1/3 cup real maple syrup (don't be a putz and use stupid Karo or Log Cabin. Not. The. Same.) 1 tsp cinnamon 1/2 cup golden raisins 1/2 cup finely shredded carrot Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease and flour (or be a smart person and use Baker's Joy) a loaf pan. Mix the egg and milk together, then add the mashed bananas, then the maple syrup. When blended, add the muffin mix and cinnamon. When blended, fold in the carrot, and then the raisins. Pour into your loaf pan. Bake for about 20-30 minutes, checking every five or so after 20 minutes by sticking a toothpick in the center. It's done when the toothpick is dryish, but make sure you haven't hit a banana piece or something.

Not Really, Not At All

I've been informed by a few regular readers of Frontburner that their much ballyhooed change will be the announcement that I've been hired as editor. My official response: Nope.

Not a Promising Sign

When even a former president can't get his paper delivered properly by the DMN, what does that bode for the rest of us? It seems that Laura Bush has told People that their neighbors are bringing the paper over every day, because the DMN has been slow to deliver it.

They even have to rely on the kindness of friends to get the local paper. "The only thing we don't have are the newspapers. It has been slow to get The Dallas Morning News delivered," she says. "People bring the newspaper to us later in the day. It's just not being delivered yet."

What, pray tell...

Have I been e-mailing about that caused Gmail to throw this up on my screen?

Obama's on the Telebizshuns

And I shall live blog. We're gazing on MSNBC, which is rolling out a people meter. Wonkette is advocating drinking your way through this. 8:02 p.m. - SCOTUS walks in. Ginsburg is so not dead. Suck it, Bunning. 8:03 p.m. - Olbermann points out Ginsburg is here. Chris Matthews says you have to be careful when you talk about someone's health. 8:04 p.m. - Can I just say Michelle Obama is kinda smokin' tonight? Are you supposed to be smokin' for the whatever address of the whatsis this is? 8:05 p.m. - Bang Bang Nancy's wooden hammer goes down on someone's hand! Cabinet is walking in. OK, seriously, when did Hillary Clinton start walking around with that wide eyed, just-been-goosed look? And I'm sorry, Vilsack sounds like something else. Something more juvenile, something near nether regions of men. IJS 8:07 p.m. - Rahm Emanuel is in the hizzie! Please, please, please drop an F-bomb, Rahm! 8:08 p.m. - Chris Matthews says that his embargoed copy of Obama's speech has him trying to step away from his inherited shitstorm, and doing something else. Indeed. He's supposed to say if he had been president earlier, none of this shit would've gone down, and we'd all be bricking our homes in bars of pure gold. WORD. 8:10 p.m. - Note to Olbermann: Reckoning is not a strong, dangerous word. Regurgitation is a strong, dangerous word. Flatulence is a strong, dangerous word. Pregnant is a strong, dangerous word. Now Obama's been introduced. People are touching him. This is why I could never be president. I don't want 40 freaking people rubbing on me. It also puts the kibosh on a porn career, btw. 8:13 p .m. - Awww...big hug for Ginsberg. Olbermann is marveling on the kiss between Obama and HC, and how crazy astronaut diaper lady crazy that is. 8:15 p.m. - Obama speaks. People clap. Congress glad they didn't approve Bush's suggestion they install this in chambers. A bit of confusion about who's supposed to talk first - Pelosi or The Obama. 8:17 p.m. - MO got the giggles when The Obama introduced her. How cute. BTW, Pelosi - the costume department from "The DaVinci Code" called, they want their monk outfit back. Obama says we're in a recession. Obama says we'll rebuild and recover. Everyone claps! Woo! Recover! "The weight of this crisis won't determine the destiny of this nation." Unless everything continues to go to hell in a handbasket, and China forecloses on us. 8:20 p.m. - I do not like the people meater. There is no meat, and no people. Just red and blue lines that don't do anything. Oh noes! The country flatlined! Get the cart! 8:22 p.m. - Lenders suck, Obama says. Good news: Obama wants to find everyone a job. Bad news: It may involve the phrase, "Do you want fries with that?" Woo! Economy something something investment something act is now law! The Republicans won't get up. Obama gave them the stink eye. Guess who's getting flaming bags of poop on their doorsteps tonight? Apparently, bipartisanship only works when the Republicans are in charge. Wee! Tax cuts. But they're for poor people, so the Republicans don't like them. McCain is looking at Obama, and his blue line went down. That sounds dirty, which makes it sound way more interesting than it actually was. Basically, nobody likes you, John, and you should just get over it. 8:26 p.m. - Obama is going to kick Tom Leppert's ass. 8:28 p.m. - Obama says the banks are fraidy cats, and he's going to have to make them wet. Or something. Honestly, I was busy watching Pelosi make faces. Business loans for entrepreneurs. Finally, I can start that newspaper. 8:29 p.m. - Americans can refinance their mortgages, unless they're speculators or dumbasses. 8:30 p.m. - Wall Street is gonna have to put on their big boy pants, and deal with the fact that banks won't be getting no-strings bailout money. Finally, Republicans stand and clap. Pelosi is totally doing sudoku back there. 8:32 p.m. - Bush's bailout sucked major donkey butt, and Obama's bailout is better because he's not going to govern out of anger, and he's gonna solve the problem. Or something. Bailout is "not about helping banks, it's about helping people." 8:34 p.m. - Utopian Economics for Dummies. Obama wants to reform the outdated U.S. regulatory system. And he wants to reduce national debt. He's going to submit a budget to Congress, or a vision for America. It's not going to solve every problem, so go get the cheese to go with your whine. 8:37 p.m. - He wants to be a catalyst for free enterprise, something something. New Deal! FDR! NEW DEAL! He's focusing on energy, health care and education with the budget. This makes everyone happy in the chamber. Yay! Basically, the U.S. is stupid because we don't promote clean energy, and America should lead in this instead of letting China do it all. Or Japan. Or wherever. He wants to build the bat-trees here, you dig? Clean energy needs to be profitable. Wants to do cap and trade on carbon, like those crazy Canucks. Pelosi's crazy rolling eyes are bothering me. Auto industry won't die, because it can't. So there. "This is America. We don't do what's easy, we do what's necessary to move this country forward." Health care expenses cause bankruptcies. People are losing their health insurance. Jill Biden is worried. Health care reform is important. Everybody is up and clapping. "A-hole. That was my idea. Good luck with all that, these are crazy bastages," Hillary Clinton is clearly thinking. 8:44 p.m. - Obama's gonna cure cancer. "Shit," every congressman just thought, "He wants me to work.Next week? WTF?" Obama says health care reform must not wait another year. I think I heard Hillary Clinton snort. 8:46 p.m. - People have to go to college to get jobs. It's a prescription for economic decline, Obama says, because other nations are freakin' smarter than us. Obama wants to educate your baby in utero. Obama wants us to commit to a year or more of higher education, so he doesn't have to be ashamed of us. "Dropping out of high school is no longer an option. It's no longer quitting on yourself, it's quitting on your country." Play the patriot card! If you volunteer, we'll send you to college. The something something bill is named after Orrin Hatch, who looks kinda surprised, and Edward Kennedy. Everybody loves that. 8:51 p.m. - The National Debt is bad. Everyone applauds. "See, I know we can get some consensus in here." "With the deficit we inherited" somehow gets everyone up and clapping and cheering. Schumer wet himself. 8:54 p.m. - we're rooting out waste in senior citizens. That's all on you, Obama. If your family makes less than $250,000, you wn't get a tax increase. You'll get a tax cut, bitches! Ooh...not everyone gets up and claps. Will go back later on the replay on CSPAN and find out which legislators hate poor people. 8:57 p.m. - Obama says he's gonna examine both wars, and find a way to leave Iraq to its people. Everyone claps and stands again, and the camera pans on McCain, who clearly thinks, "Crap, they like that. FINE, I'm standing." Yay! Soldiers! Big claps! Standing O for soldiers. Budget increases the number of soldiers and Marines, and expands care and benefits for vets. Obama ordered the closing of Gitmo, and says we have to be an example. "Living our values doesn't make us weaker, it makes us safer and it makes us stronger... The United States of America does not torture." Unless, of course, it involves pre-empting a night of TV to make old white guys stand up and sit down repeatedly. 9:02 p.m. - The eyes of peoples are upon us, but the camera is aimed at Chesley Sullenberger. Inspiration comes from ordinary Americans. Bank dude gave his $600,000 bonus to the people who worked for him. He gets a standing ovation. Greensburg, Kansas, is being rebuilt to maximize green energy. Tornados provide opportunity. Michelle Obama is sitting next to some kid at some South Carolina school Obama visited where a train goes through it 11 times a day and there's no roof. She typed a letter to Congress asking for help. "We are not quitters," she said. And now she gets a hug from MO. And a standing O. "Every American sitting here tonight loves this country and wants it to succeed," he tells the chamber. "Crap," all the sitters think. "Way to make me look like a schmuck, Barry." Is Pelosi smiling because she likes what Obama's saying, or because he's done? 9:08 p.m. - God...he's done. Am I liveblogging the GOP Fungasm to follow? No.

My deep breath of the day...

Jai Ho - Slumdog Millionaire (English Subs)
Uploaded by aka71691

Re: What Say You, Dallas?

Like I said, not a bad idea.

So True...

Dear Sons of Hermann Hall,

or, for that matter, anyone who knows anyone there: Please call me back. Please. Please? Hugs and Kisses, Me

MoveOn: Cornyn "Hanging Out with the Arsonists"

In my inbox today, comes this latest beg for money from MoveOn.org. Only this one's directly targeted at the constituents of one John Cornyn, the Texas senator who decided to be in New York instead of at a stimulus cloture vote. Apparently MoveOn is gearing up to launch an ad lambasting Cornyn for that decision. In part, the e-mail said:

In the midst of an economic crisis caused largely by Wall Street greed, our senator skipped this week's vote on the stimulus plan so he could meet with—wait for it—Republican donors from Wall Street. Sen. John Cornyn wasn't just fiddling while Rome burned — he was actually hanging out with the arsonists. He showed us that congressional Republicans aren't fighting for their constituents who got laid off or watched their retirement savings disappear or lost their health coverage. They're just looking out for their big-money corporate friends.

So guess BOLO that ad, and let us know if you hear it on the airwaves around here. A sneak peek is here.

Dear Various and Assorted Handwringers:

Michael Phelps took a bong hit. There are pictures of it on the Internets. I know this has caused untold amounts of consternation, and even one oblique tie-in to the Mexican drug cartel. But for a second, let's forget the "Just Say No" vs. Woody Harrelson statistics and medical reports and such that throw into doubt exactly what kind of life-wrecker - or scotch on the rocks on a Friday night - marijuana is. Everyone feels they have equally compelling arguments for and against, and it's not really the reason all the brouhaha was stirred up to begin with. Let's address another issue - all these people talking about how he's a role model. OK. His feats this summer were amazing. But he's also 24-years-old, and due for a few mistakes. I would think parents - at least the kind that think about it for a second - would see this as a teaching moment. I would also think that we'd all rather have a fallible role model that admits his mistakes and deals with them honorably and gracefully than the alternative. The very definition of role model implies it's someone you can emulate, someone you can follow. Who here can actually be perfect - or even wants to be? So why do we expect our role models to be perfect? But more importantly, I submit this for your consideration: If your child starts smoking marijuana because Michael Phelps did it, is the problem Phelps is a bad role model, or that you're a bad parent?

Please, Less Talky-Talky, More Music, Grammys

I wasn't gonna live blog this, but it's come to my attention that whoever is writing the Grammys is actually writing in verbal diarrhea. I think they hate famous people. It's the only thing that explains the horrible, horrible solo banter I was just subjected to by Dwayne Johnson, formerly "The Rock." Making him recite the lyrics to Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl?" Really? And while U2 rocked it, I have to say I found it vastly amusing that Al Green got tired of that whippersnapper Justin Timberlake taking over HIS song, and began engaging of some vocal acrobatics that left the poor former NSyncer screaming into his mic. So far, they've given out one statue - Best R&B album, Jennifer Hudson. It was presented by Whitney Houston, who I swear used to be able to open her eyes wider. So now you're caught up. And there's Simon Baker, who looks just like Buddy Holly. Uh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore. He introduced Coldplay, and thankfully, didn't talk any more than necessary. And may I just say thank jeebus 60 minutes came on before the Grammy telecast to tell me that Coldplay is an awesome new band, and its lead singer is married to some actress named Gwyneth Paltrow? It's what all the kids are listening to today! Keith Urban says something about Gene Autry winning a lifetime something something. NOT AN ACTUAL AWARD. Grammys, you've been on for half an hour now, and you've given ONE AWARD. Seriously? Urban also introduces Carrie Underwood, who raided both Stevie Nicks and Princess Leia's wardrobes, pulled a Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink, and came up with uh, that. She also has a blinged microphone. I'd kinda like the mic. They're gonna make Sheryl Crow and Leann Rimes speak something heinous off the teleprompter. Oh yay! Another award. Freakingfinally. Country Duo/Group Performance with Vocals - "Stay," Sugarland. Jennifer Nettles was cute - pointing to her mom and mouthing, "This is my mama," to the camera. I also have to warn you people - due to some DVR thing I have yet to completely comprehend, I'm going to stop everything at 8 and watch Desperate Housewives. You'll be on your own. Feel free to make snarky comments, or not. If it's still on at 9, I'm sorry. OK, so Coldplay just won song of the freakin' year for "Viva La Vida." Sure, great song, but can we let someone else win? Like Adele? Or Estelle? or not Coldplay? Have these people heard "Chasing Pavements?" The lyrics are GOLD. Now Kid Rock singing something southern rocky, shocking, I know. Kid Rock makes me want to shower. I mean, I just did, and I feel greasy five seconds into this medley. I need to bathe.... Oh. Yay. Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. I. Cannot. Contain. My. Excitement. I think we also have just realized who is the better singer. Ms. Cyrus - less "goofy faces," more vocal training. Miley looks like she's in pain, too. I think it's because she can hear herself. It's also four minutes til I go DH, then perhaps I'll come back at 9. Mock liberally in the comments, if you like, as I said before. OK - one more thing from Twitter, courtesy Ana Marie Cox: " anamariecox RT @sissenberg: "Miley Cyrus doesn't impress me, but I acknowledge she'd be cute if she fell down a well." (Welcome Sasha who is HILARIOUS.)" Made me laugh out loud.

What Say You, Dallas?

In a time of budget shortfalls in Dallas, all that irritation about Dallas becoming a nanny state with its raft of smoking bans may dissipate like so much Marlboro smoke, experts say. According to an Associated Press article today, many municipalities that just last year were discussing smoking bans or beefing up existing smoking bans have tabled the discussion because of the possible drop in tax revenue that would come from masses of people receiving just one more reason - besides saving money - to stay home and cook and drink as opposed to hitting a restaurant or bar for a night out. In other words, there are some cities out there that have decided that a wholesale ban of smoking could be knee-jerk and ill advised. Sure, the ban makes some constituents happy, but you know what makes more constituents more unhappy? Not having city services they've become accustomed to, or seeing those services reduced because of budget concerns. Long Beach, Calif., is mulling over the possibility of easing restrictions it already has in place. Kansas is finding passing a smoking ban to be a contentious issue. And, as the AP article explains, Atlantic City, N.J., Colorado and Wyoming are also having longer discussions about possible bans. I still say that cities are missing a huge revenue opportunity. Instead of banning smoking altogether, why not create a smoking establishment permit. It could be a set, uniform fee - or a fee based on a percentage of yearly or quarterly receipts. The permitted restaurant or bar can put their certificate near the entry, which alerts nonsmokers who feel strongly about it that it's an establishment that allows smoking, and they can choose to go elsewhere. The permit could possibly even be contingent having extra ventilation. It seems like it would be a way to make nearly everyone happy, and even help generate some additional revenue for the city. It also allows the businesses to make the decision themselves to allow smoking, and allows patrons to make up their minds themselves about where they'd like to eat or drink. Anyone else have any suggestions?

How To Save Your Newspaper

On Time.com today, Walter Isaacson has an interesting piece on the state of the newspaper biz. His take? Sooner or later, newspapers are going to have to ask their online readers to pay for content. And he validly points out that naysayers should think about other industries that have managed to get their users used to paying for online content - for instance, Apple.

He says: In addition, our two most creative digital innovators have shown that a pay-per-drink model can work when it's made easy enough: Steve Jobs got music consumers (of all people) comfortable with the concept of paying 99 cents for a tune instead of Napsterizing an entire industry, and Jeff Bezos with his Kindle showed that consumers would buy electronic versions of books, magazines and newspapers if purchases could be done simply.

Its an intriguing idea, I think. Isaacson goes on to talk about the fact that newspapers could likely charge a nickle per article, or even a slightly higher fee for all-day access, or a whole newspaper's worth of articles. So what do you think? Would you be willing to pay for something like what Isaacson describes?

Lazy Weekend: How to Roast a Chicken

So today, I was thinking that perhaps we could talk food. See, I like to cook - a lot. But I also like to read books, catch up on the ol' DVR, and being lazy. Weekends especially tend to beg for that. Ideally, you can do both, if you pick the right thing. Saturday or Sunday can be your lazy day and your impressive feast day if you just pick things that can be cooked with little supervision, for a long time. So this week, I'll tell you how I make a roast chicken that looks quite lovely, tastes even better, and doesn't require a lot of kitchen time. You can serve it with a nice salad, or go completely homestyle and make mashed potatoes, gravy, and a veggie or two, depending on how deeply you wish to plumb the depths of your inner sloth. Perfectly Roasted Chicken Roasting chicken (a whole fryer will work, too) 1 tsp garlic powder 1 tsp onion powder 1 tsp salt 1 tsp pepper 1 tsp dried rosemary 1/2 tsp lemon pepper - not the neon yellow kind, but the kind you can buy at Whole Foods 1 lemon, quartered 1 small onion, in eighths 1/4 cup olive oil First, you need to take anything that might be in the cavity of the chicken out. Then rinse chicken with cold water, inside and out, and pat dry with paper towels before preparing. Lightly salt and pepper the inside of the chicken. Put the lemon and the onion inside the cavity, then tie the legs together with twine. Any leftover onion or lemon can be placed in your roasting pan to flavor the juices. Brush (or spray, if you have one of those fancy olive oil spray doohickeys) a very light coating of olive oil on the outside of the bird and put it in the roasting pan. In a bowl, mix the salt, pepper, lemon pepper, rosemary, garlic powder and onion powder together. Sprinkle the mixture evenly over the chicken. Roast at 350 degrees for 2 1/2 hours or so, depending on how big your chicken is. I like to look for the legs and wings to be falling away from the bird. Tent some aluminum foil over the roasting pan for the first 1 1/2 hours, then take it away so the skin can get crispy. Baste every half hour to 45 minutes, using the pan juices (the first baste may not have enough of that, so use some olive oil. Yes, I know butter may be what your granny uses, but I don't have time to give advice on performing your own angioplasty.) Take the chicken out when done, and let rest for about 10 minutes before slicing. The Method: The lemon in the cavity works as a steam cooker, which means the chicken stays extra tender and juicy. This whole thing will also work well on a turkey. When I do that, I double the amounts on the spices required, and use oranges instead of lemons. The nice thing about this is that leftover meat can be used for soup later that week, or even the next day in quesadillas, chicken fettuccine, salads, or fajitas.

Dear Famous People:

I'd like to tell you about my cell phone. In addition to the usual accouterments you'd expect a phone to have - numbers for dialing, a tiny speaker to amplify the voice of the caller, etc., my phone turns into a device that, when aimed at objects or people, takes pictures. Now, considering I bought my phone at the AT&T store on Northwest Highway and Preston-ish in Dallas, I'm pretty sure it's not one of those state-of-the-art spy devices that only the rich and powerful get. For one thing, the dude that sold it to me is not Chuck. And another - there were scads of them on the shelf. So I'm thinking there are probably a good million at least in the world that have a phone with a soul stealing, picture capturing device attached to it. And because of this, you just have to be more careful. You can't, say, take a bong hit at a party anymore because a) you're famous and b) because of that, people will take their cell phones out, record the moment for posterity, and then sell it to the highest (no pun intended) bidder - or at least send it to everyone in their address book. You also can't say obviously inflammatory things about beloved national traditions. Same reasons, plus add YouTube, which means your little, "Black people don't.." aside to a friend can instantly become more popular than that video of a kitten trapped in a box. Yes, I'm talking to you, Michael Phelps, and would also like to issue a gentle reminder to Josh Howard, while we're at it. So yes, famous people, we normal people are a mean, puckish bunch. We've figured out how to use everyday objects to record your foibles, and then we capitalize on them. I just thought I'd warn you, but then I realized you probably don't know that there is a way to get things on the Internet all by yourself (they're called blogs), so you probably won't read this.

No, No, and a Thousand Times, No.

I used to work for the Dallas Morning News. I went in knowing I'd only be able to work there a year on the meager compensation I was going to be getting, but I also took comfort in things like a 401K plan, insurance, etc. Let me make this perfectly clear. Journalism is not a lucrative career path. It's a downright spartan existence if you work for even a big metro daily, unless - of course - you're A.H. Belo CEO Robert Decherd. Robert Decherd just announced today that he would be laying off another 500 A.H. Belo employees. He also blithely announced the company would no longer be contributing to employee 401K's, and that they'd also have to pony up some money to park at work, or for their DART passes - each were previously a benefit. It may seem small to be miffed that it's gone, but when you're making less than $30K a year, paying $40 a month for parking adds up fast. And yet, Robert Decherd got a raise. Sure, it was after taking a pay cut before, but he got a raise nonetheless. Let me tell you about my last raise. I had to work for about 18 months at a job where I pretty much had to excel every day, then beg, to get it. People get raises for work well done. Decherd gets his for running the company into the ground. Now, yes, other newspapers are shuttering, too. It's a bad time in general for the journalism world. But I lump him in with the other CEOs who fail to do a very important part of their jobs - stick a finger in the air, and see which way the wind is blowing. As I've said before, the newspaper industry suffers from failure to thrive because it failed to plan. It suffered - and actually, still suffers - from delusions of onipotence and chose to see the Internet as a fad. It failed to be an early adopter of the Internet and missed a huge opportunity to train its audience to use it in conjunction with newspapers. It failed to demonstrate early that newspapers have value, and that value can translate to the Internet. The sea change in journalism didn't start two years ago, or three years ago, or even a decade ago. As a bastion of innovation, the cruel irony is newspapers failed - there's that word again - to see the potential of the Internet at its earliest for what it was then, and what it could be later. Don't say nobody could know that - because there are men who have gotten very rich knowing exactly that. But let's circle back to the original point - Robert Decherd's complete failure to appreciate his employees, and who actually needs to be relieved of a job. From the faux obsequious "Dear colleagues" right down to the insistence that everyone needs to tighten their belts, Decherd's memo to employees is just Ipecac in prose form. Considering his wages alone would pay for at least 12 employees, possibily more, when will the board of A.H. Belo realize that the fat that needs trimming is at the head, not the rump?

The State of the GOP

On CNN today, we have Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell warning that the GOP is about to become a regional party if it can't pull it together and give voters what they want. Is McConnell overly pessimistic, or right on the money?

I See London, I See France....

For the five of you who care, the Dallas-Fort Worth area has a contestant in America's Next Top Model this cycle. Meet London. She's 18, lives in Arlington and is a student. Yes, there's other Texas representation as well - some chick from Houston. But Houston smells like feet.

We started ..

the conversation over here, but I feel compelled to ask here, too. What is your favorite part of Icepocalypse 2009? Mine? The advent of Pete Delkus' Twittering. What a fantasticalgasmic way for me to pepper him with all the questions I've been dying to know the answers to - like, "Is it really bad when you roll your sleeves up?" "Ice Storm = Instant, certain death, right?" and "Why do you hate me, Pete? Why won't you answer any of my questions? Are we going to die?"

Talk Amongst Yourselves 'Til I Get Back...

Work is encroaching, so I'll make this brief. Two things: 1. Ron Kirk is going to give up his partner position at Vinson & Elkins if he becomes the next U.S. trade rep. 2. France is bailing out its newspaper industry. How long before the U.S. does? I'll weigh in later, when I divest myself of all this work.

Just Wondering Out Loud Here

If the DMN goes to twice-weekly publication - which could pave the way for an online-only presence - what would happen to Dallas County's legal notices? Current Texas statute - unless it's changed in some place other than Fannin County - states that legal notices must be placed in the printed newspaper of highest paid circulation in the county. So if many prognosticators are correct, and more and more newspapers go to some form of online only, where will these notices be published, given that you still have a significant number of people without access to the Internet?

Two Completely Different Things ...

From my buddy Trey comes this story. I do love a responsible fiend, whatever that is. And since dream interpretation went so well the last time, I just have to ask: What do you think of a dream that involves balloons that explode in the sky into mushroom clouds, running for your life, and then the suggestion you need Botox?

Diner's Check In, But They Pretty Much Don't Come Back

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when admitted germaphobe Merritt Patterson discovered a dead roach in her food at the Macaroni Grill on Northwest Highway, near the Dallas North Tollway. I mean, if there's roaches in the food, and I was a fly, I'd blend in rather well on the wall. Nobody'd notice at all.

Do You Like the Snark? Do You Like the Snark about the Park Cities?

Then you shall love this. Hi Merritt! Hi Charles!

Re: Redonkulously Cute

Amanda over at The Squawker alerted me to this bit of cutegasm. Four years of this? Sign me up!

Redonkulously Cute