Think A Possible Pandemic Isn't Scary?

I posted this before, but it's worth posting it again:

http://www.crazymonkeygames.com/Pandemic-2.html

Kind of scary!

All Weird Roads Lead To Tyler

Someone I met late last year told me something that I didn’t understand until this past week: “All weird roads lead to Tyler.”
Tyler is unusual in a good way. Like the folks on the island in “Lost,” but in a more positive way, I’ve had a sense of fate and destiny ever since the first drive here up U.S. 69 from Beaumont. My family was meant to be here.
Since then a number of ties to the past have emerged.
During a recent business reception, some folks whom I had no idea lived in this neck of the forest showed up.
One was Toni Moore, University of Texas Health Science Center media specialist. I hadn’t seen or heard from Moore since we worked together at the Midland Reporter Telegram in West Texas back in the early 1990s.
Also at the event was Kerry Yancey, a journalist for the nearby Canton newspaper, and his wife, Shirley. A decade ago, Yancey was photo editor and a writer for the Killeen Daily Herald, where I was managing editor. Yancey was the photographer for my wedding in 2000.
Last month. I had lunch with Ann Fitzgerald, Greater Tyler Association of Realtors president. On Monday, I randomly drew her card for Business Briefcase fodder. Last week, I happened to draw Toni Moore’s card, but she was out of town.
Usually, this column is a collection of vignettes about the people behind the cards. But something different seemed warranted this week.
Fitzgerald has seen some weird roads herself in Tyler.
During her early days here, she thought she had hit a career peak when she scored the listing for former Tyler Junior College President Ray Hawkins’ home.
The sellers had one simple request: Don’t let the cat get out.
“I was so proud of myself for getting this listing and got a big head,” Fitzgerald said. “They basically said, ‘Ann, don’t let the cat out.’”
Of course, the cat got out. After chasing the cat around, Fitzgerald managed to herd it inside. And it got out again.
“I was a wreck by then,” Fitzgerald recalled.
She found the cat in some bushes and put it back inside. Three days later, the sellers called. They wanted to know where their cat was, and what the deal was with the strange cat in their house.
Fitzgerald had apprehended the wrong feline. Mercifully, the sellers’ cat was still around and quickly put back inside.
“They were very nice about it,” Fitzgerald said of Hawkins and his wife. “I wanted to die.”
From that point forward, the sellers referred to her as “cat woman.”
The cat incident underscores a colorful career for Fitzgerald in Tyler, an SMU graduate who started her realtor work here in the mid-1980s.
“I married a Tyler boy, and we wanted a change of pace,” Fitzgerald said of her reasons for moving to Tyler.
Now divorced, Fitzgerald and her ex-husband continue to co-own Ben Fitzgerald Real Estate, which they bought in 1996.
And their third partner?
That would be commercial real estate specialist Jerry Tate — who happened to be my high school band director in Houston.
Band members I’ve kept up over the years — including my sister — have rampantly speculated about what became of Tate after he left Westchester High School in 1981. I played the trumpet and hung it up upon high school graduation.
When Fitzgerald named her third partner, a fusillade of questions from my end ensued. She later called Tate to confirm that he was indeed the same guy.
This was the guy who gave me a well-deserved detention for messing up the marching band photo by wearing a bunch of bogus medals on my uniform, making me look like a Mexican general.
This was the guy who confiscated the jaw harp I smuggled into band and “boinged” anonymously behind a music stand during lulls until I finally got busted.
He also seized a collection of my underground stories and cartoons lampooning him and other people in the marching band.
Fitzgerald said Tate didn’t quite remember me. Maybe he will when I meet him soon.
I can’t wait to tell him that those dumb little stories wound up being the crude foundation for a journalism career.
And, after a 20-year layoff, I picked up the trumpet again a few years ago and now play in a band. In another weird coincidence, I’ve heard that a fellow trumpet player from the old marching band is now a Methodist minister church in Tyler.
And my sister is a band director.
Yep, all weird roads do indeed lead to Tyler, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Weird on.

My Wife Has Gotten Into Baby Rescue

http://www.tylerpaper.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090227/NEWS08/902270275

Storm Flashbacks

The TV meteorologists yesterday were all aflutter over a cold front-related storm system pushing down from the north.
This time of year, the Gulf of Mexico starts getting in its first digs of the year, with warm, moist air surging northward. But the north isn't ready to throw in the meteorological towel and charges right back, often with devastating results.
When the two sides clash, bad things can happen: tornadoes, high winds, hail and heavy rains.
The meteorologists yesterday got excited about a powerful front that caused mayhem in the Midwest. Dire weather news crawled across the bottom of the TV screen throughout prime-time viewing last night. (I've been in a television station and witnessed the glee that overwhelms TV weatherfolks when they get to do a crawl.)
For two storm-wearing veterans such as my wife and I, who have survived two of the top 10 most destructive hurricanes in U.S. history, the flashbacks of downed trees and days without electricity came pouring forth.
A car, plants, the garbage can and other loose items were put in the garage. I separated my two hand-me-down cars so no single tree could take out both. Lastly, remembering scenes of gas desperation in the aftermath of Hurricanes Rita and Ike, I drove to the convenience store to fill up two 5-gallon cans to ensure at least a day or so of fuel for the generator should the power go out. We took comfort knowing that we had natural gas that could keep the fireplace and the hot-water heater going.
The journalist in me started thinking about story coverage and wondering if I would have to get up in the middle of the night and head to work.
Just after 11 p.m., the front stormed in with a fury. But one look out the window made me relax and even snicker.
Having watched the Category 3 Rita, with 120-plus mph winds, and Category 2 Ike, with his 110-mph winds, this front looked more like a dandelion blower by comparison.
Our backyard swing blew over, and a neighbor's basketball post fell down, but other than that, the damage was minimal on our street.
Nevertheless, the event underscored how strongly Rita and Ike remain in our family psyche.
It also made us realize that with all the implements of survival - generator, full gas cans, Coleman stove, lanterns, flashlights, etc. - there isn't much in Tyler that could happen weatherwise that we couldn't handle.

Some Fat-tastic Culinary Concoctions!

In this fantastic economy we got going on right now, it's comforting to know that people out there aren't cutting back on dietary nightmares:

http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/page/1

What we have here is a collection of the most gnarly food every conceived.

Who can not salivate over the Double Bacon Hamburger Fatty Melt?

Or the Krispy Kreme Bacon Double Cheeseburger?

Or the simple Meat Ship?

You, The Great Depression wouldn't have been as terrible had we had these culinary delights out there to comfort the soul.

Just Channel Some Positive Energy, Baby

Noted economist Ray Perryman recently told me that 70 percent of the economy runs on consumer confidence.
Of course, confidence has hit stormy seas thanks to all the bleak economic news. From the jittery mortgage underwriters, who really had it coming, to the couple giving up satellite television and movie rentals just to hold onto a couple of extra bucks, consumer insecurity can be found all across the spectrum.
Unlike the rest of the nation, Tyler's consumer confidence is shaken but not shattered. People are still eating out like crazy. Home and car sales numbers haven't mirrored the declines elsewhere. And on and on and on. The glass is always half full.
I ran across this little video today, and it underscores the power of positive thinking. It's well worth the 16 minutes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao

Maybe the underwriters should have to view it as mandatory job training.

10 Things That Rock About Tyler

I've lived here fewer than two months, but I can say with a lot of confidence that this town is the best place I've ever lived, and I've lived in a lot of places in Texas, mostly crummy places such as Odessa, Pasadena and Killeen.

Here are 10 great things about Tyler:

10.) Hills! It might come as a surprise that this part of the state is almost as hilly as the Hill Country in Central Texas. It's great for running. Our house even sits atop a hill, with every run finishing with a run up it. If there were no trees, we could see for miles and miles in every direction.

9.) The drive to and from work. Instead of taking a freeway or even a major street, I wind my way through the Azalea District, noteworthy for its spring flowers, historic homes and brick streets. It's only about a 10-minute drive from home, too. Our gasoline bill now is just a fraction of what it was. But the best part is that it's just a nice drive.

8.) Discovery Science Place. This science place for kids is almost as good as the one in Houston and in some ways better. You can get a year's family membership for only $50. I gave one to my 7-year-old for his birthday yesterday, and he spent 10 minutes jumping up and down about it.

7.) Caldwell Zoo. This zoo is the bomb. Sure, it's smaller than a lot of zoos, but it's way more intimate and has just about everything you need. Everything is close, close, close. You round a corner to find only a piece of glass separating you from a white tiger, for example. The kids' favorite is the Wild Bird Walkabout, which is open only on weekends. You walk through a series of doors into an area where all these Fruit Loop birds are flying around. For $1, you get a stick with some seeds stuck to it. Birds will then flock to you and peck away the seeds. At any given time, you might have five of them sitting on your hand and a dozen more sitting on your feet and nibbling at the plastic end of your shoelaces, which they like for some reason. During a recent visit, I had one bird sitting on my head and another asleep on my shoulder. I'd never seen anything like this before, but every zoo ought to have one. A year-long family zoo pass is only $70. I gave one to the family for Christmas, and my 7-year-old spent 12 minutes jumping up and down about it.

6.) The water. The water coming out of the taps is as good as bottled water, so much better than that swampy swill that came out of the pipes down in Pinewood. We've saved a bundle on not having to buy bottled water.

5.) The air. It's almost like clean mountain air here, with no industry mucking it up.

4.) Outdoor recreation. There are lakes aplenty around here. As for Tyler State Park, I haven't been out there since the move, but I went there years ago, and it's just about the best mountain biking in Texas.

3.) Free air at the gas station! That's right, if your tire is a little low, you don't have to fork out 75 cents to fill it.

2.) My job. I'm back to doing mostly writing, and it's been a blast so far. I haven't done this much writing in more than 15 years. One of the things I didn't miss about reporting when I became an editor was dealing with sources that were difficult or impossible to reach. Here, most everybody is cooperative, easy to work with and calls back right away. That makes reporting quick and easy and helps me to blast out a lot of stories. Plus, I can get my stuff done and be home and having dinner with the family by 6 p.m. on most days. The work day is as long or short as I want to make it.

1.) The community. I thought all of Texas in general was friendly, but Tyler is more so than anywhere else. When the wife first got here, she was a bit stressed after the long drive with the kids in the car, and I told her that she needed to Tylerize, and the best way to start that was to just go to the grocery store, and she'd understand. She went and returned with a smile on her face. It doesn't take much time here to understand that this place is a little bubble of positive energy. The sour economy hasn't taken as much toll, and a lot of that has to do with people just being positive, which means they have high consumer confidence, which means they're still buying things, filling the stores and eating out at the restaurants. And this is one eating-out kind of town. There are restaurants galore. Walmart is another consumer-confidence indicator here. While Beaumont, which is larger than Tyler, has only one Walmart, we've got FOUR.

So there it is. I've been Tylerized. And that's all I'm going to say about that!

And The Time To Beat Is 3:14

The boys love going to the playground at the elementary school a half mile from the house.
We bring soccer balls, basketballs and other implements of recreational destruction.
It's tough to foresee what each boy might do in regard to sports in the coming years. My slightly autistic son, Curt, 6, took to Little Dribblers basketball more than expected last year, and his little brother, Luke, 5, showed great potential as well.
Of course, I'm partial to running. Having been too small, weak and slow for sports in junior high and high school, I took to band. It wasn't until decades later that I discovered my abilities in long-distance running, and it since has become a lifetime dedication. It's relatively safe and, to me, is the best exercise ever.
But forcing that kind of thing on 5- and 6-year-olds is not a good thing. They'd wind up hating it for life. Plus, they're too young for any more than playground running and some easy laps. Besides, make a kid run too far, too fast and too soon increases the chances for injury and permanent injury later in life. They're little legs aren't ready for it.
Elementary and junior high kids shouldn't do anymore than 5Ks, while those in high school and college shouldn't do more than 10Ks. Marathons should be reserved for adults in their late 20s and beyond. Anything more can shorten a running career.
Part of me is itching for my boys to join me in a 5K. That would take training, and they're not ready for that.
But a recent trip to the elementary playground gave me hope that this might happen sooner than later.
An asphalt track, which I'd guess is about a quarter to a third of a mile long, surrounds the playground and soccer field. The kids were on the playground equipment when Curt decided he was going to take a lap.
To my surprise, he walk-ran the whole thing and cut no corners. Of course, Luke had to do the same, only this time I did the "ready, set, go!" thing and timed him.
Luke ran the whole way and made it around the track in a not-too-shabby 3:47. Then Curt wanted to be timed, too, so I started the watch as he took off. Little brother didn't like that at all and gave chase.
The two huffed and puffed their way around the track without stopping or even walking, clocking in at a remarkable 3:14.
After a round of high fives, I took them back to the house for some hydrating. They both declared they loved running and wanted to go to the track with me some time soon, which I might just do.
I proud of the little buggers, and it gave me hope that father-sons race participation is not far away.
But I better hit the track more often myself, because one thing I most definitely want to prolong is that day when I'm giving it all I've got, only to have one of those little buggers pass me for the first time - and most likely forever more.