The Trash Palace

Men vs. Boys

2011-12-07T14:25:00.005-06:00

Facebook is rife with annoying, nauseating platitudes and self-affirmations, much of them having little more in substance than the 1970s-era "HANG IN THERE" poster of a kitten hanging by its paws.

Sometimes I can't help but mock such posts with distorted lines out of "If You Give A Moose a Muffin." "If you give a moose a muffin, he's going to want some jam and a self-help book to go with that ..."

But something a friend posted today demanded attention. It pointed out the differences between men and adult-age "boys."

I've lately come to the ugly realization, through a lot of conversation and sociological analysis, that the world is too full of dysfunction, selfishness, neglect and abuse. Too often at the root of it all are boys who should act like men.
Crappy dads just might be society's No. 1 problem. I know of two marriages in which the dads' raging alcoholism (A liter of vodka to start the day? Really?) gave the wives no choice but to get out. I know of two others in which the dads have nothing to do with their children other than writing a monthly support check. A good friend told me that home-wrecking infidelity runs rampant within her church congregation, and the adulters all stand there acting like solid Christians on Sunday mornings. The manager of a local hotel noted that prominent members of this community have gotten rooms for use with someone other than their spouses.

There are horror stories about women, too, of course, but this blog post is not about them. This post is about men and what I saw on Facebook today.
It's a small list of difference between men and boys, and here they are:

"Here's to all the REAL men out there ... "
* Boys play house; men build homes.
* Boys shack up; men get married.
* Boys make babies; men raise children.
* A boy won't raise his own children; but a man will raise his and someone else's.
* Boys invent excuses for failure; men produce strategies for success.
* Boys look for somebody to take care of them; men look for someone to take care of.
* Boys seek popularity; men earn respect by knowing how to give it.
* Boys quit and walk away when things get hard; men will promise to love you through it all.

So are you a man or a boy? A Vietnam veteran once told me that the only way to survive an ambush is to fight your way through it, and the same can be said for facing the salvos of adversity that life hurls our way. How that adversity is handled not only distinguishes a man from a boy but defines character. A man's character also can be defined by how he treats those who have little or nothing in the way of something to offer him.

More real men and more character in this world might go a long way toward breaking this pansy, self-centered, "LOOK AT ME" society's cycle of broken homes and broken hearts.

Toaster Toast

2011-11-17T13:54:00.007-06:00

The date that the old toaster oven fell into my possession is unclear, as is when the old battleaxe was created.
But I had the thing at least 15 years, spanning a variety of eras in life and producing countless tuna melts, pop tarts and toasted sandwiches.
The British invented the manual toaster in 1893, according to http://www.scribd.com. The United States joined the toaster arms race in 1909.
My beloved toaster oven originally belonged to my maternal grandmother, and if I had to guess, I'd say it was from the early 1970s. The oven survived seven of my residential moves involving five cities over the years, during which time the appliance gained a certain element of character.
Once the children were born, the oven saw heavy usage, toasting up pop tarts and other breakfast goodies, heating up biscuits and cooking garlic toast.
It's deteriorating state resulted in it becoming a kind of joke as well as a sentimental piece of history. My grandmother would have been proud to have seen how much workload the oven took on during the raising of my sons.
The oven even became a prop in a prank Christmas card, whose heinousness hopefully will never see daylight.
Alas, the toaster earlier this year finally was replaced with a shiny new state-of-the-art model. I stuck it in the camper for usage in its not-so-golden years in the great outdoors.
I pulled it out during a recent camping trip with the boys, and it looked even more horrible than I remember. I guess sometimes that you can get so used to something that its flaws and shortcomings become less apparent. Back at the house, I decided to give it a good scrubbing in hopes of salvation.
However, upon closer examination, the task not only looked insurmountable, but the darn thing just looked dangerous to use.
So with heavy heart, I conceded defeat and grudgingly tossed the thing into the garbage can.
It's easy to get blinded by even the most simple of sentimental things. And then again, too often we take too many things for granted.
The bottom line is that life presents a never-ending series of various things that we embrace and eventually have to let go.

The One About The Horned Toad

2011-10-21T09:10:00.003-05:00

I was 9 years old when the series of great adventures with Dad began. He was heavily into building and shooting muzzleloaders, and the first adventure was to Brady, located near the exact center of Texas and home to the state muzzleloader championship.

I remember how I excited I was for the trip, which was in June 1972. (I also remember summer 1972 as a great one in my boyhood for some reason.) I fell asleep in the car somewhere on the east side of Austin. It was a time when young kids rode in the front seat, hardly anyone wore seat belts, cars got about eight miles to the gallon and a lot of people just tossed their trash out of their car windows.

When I awoke, we were well west of Austin, and the Hill Country landscape caught me by surprise. Lots of limestone and cactus. A fox scampered across the road right in front of the car. I remember tasty barbecue sandwiches at some rustic place.

Suddenly, Dad pulled over the car, got out, pulled off his cowboy hat and began stalking something on the shoulder. He caught whatever it was, brought it back to the car and handed it to me. It was a horned toad.

Over the course of the next few days, that horned toad was my companion. He would just cling to my shirt. I kept him in a Folger's coffee can. Not knowing what horned toads ate, I just fed him lettuce and tomatoes.

By day, Dad and I shot muzzleloaders, and by night we sat around campfires as geezers fired up guitars, fiddles and their creaky old voices. It was a world of Texas characters, the kind that humanity just doesn't make anymore.

Sadly, the horned toad died. Regardless of whether it starved or baked to death in the Folger's can, I knew it was my fault. I learned a great lesson about keeping the wild things where they belong. We held a tearful roadside funeral for him on the way back to Houston.

Anytime my boys, 8 and 9, capture some wild thing in the yard, like a lizard or a toad, and want to keep it, I remind them of the one about the horned toad. Passing along knowledge is part of this new chapter. They have reached the age of the great adventures with Dad, and my goal is to make the most of it. From sporting events to camping to just eating hot dogs and watching the Texas Rangers, I know that these are the times that they will remember most.

And if nothing else, perhaps one particular lesson I learned long ago and passed on to my boys will save some poor horned toad from an untimely death.

It's All In The Coats

2011-10-04T10:14:00.003-05:00

The collection of a dozen or so coats in the closet these days represents more than various fashions and means of keeping warm.

Hidden in the pockets are personal historical items in the form of event tickets, wedding invitations and funeral programs. One coat has the program for my father's funeral in January 2007, while another has the program for my mom's funeral in September 2008.

Mixed in are a variety of receipts and even silly things such as tiny bottles of soap for blowing bubbles to send off a new bride and groom. A tuxedo's pockets hold flyers from formal events, while a blue-jean jacket's pockets preserve items from more down-to-Earth affairs.

Creating pocket museums in coats has been going on since college in the early 1980s. Coats have come and gone, as well as the myriad items stashed away in their pockets.

Three years ago this month, I interviewed for the Tyler Morning Telegraph business editor position. During a time of industry turmoil, I badly wanted out of corporate journalism and to land in the kind of indepenent, family-run operation I'd experienced and enjoyed in Georgetown and Killeen so many years ago.

It was love at first sight for this wonderful Tyler community, and every day here and at the newspaper validates the reasons for the scenery change.

The suit I wore for the interview in late October 2008 was a bit tight around the midsection, and the suit has sat unworn in the closet ever since.

Until today.

Having lost about 20 pounds in the last month through diet and exercise, I put on the suit this morning to gleefully discover a perfect fit, far more comfortable than it was three years ago. I'll be wearing it tonight for a community event.

A quick pocket check uncovered the receipt for the hotel where I stayed the night before the Tyler Morning Telegraph interview. And, like it was for the community, it equally was love at first sight for this company. A simple receipt brought me back to that moment in time, a life-change symbol almost as powerful as the programs for my deceased father and mother.

More historical pocket treasures await in the coat pockets of a long-discarded other suit that remains fashionable and has been dragged around for years in the hope that I will slim down enough to wear it again.

Maybe some day, many years from now, a program for my sons' weddings will find their way into that coat pocket. And I'll already have the decades-old bubbles on hand to send them off into their new life chapters.

The Geocache Kids Chalk Up A Big Win

2011-07-13T09:19:00.004-05:00

The idea of using a GPS device to find boxes hidden in state parks caught fire in the hearts of my boys as well as myself past year.

Texas Parks and Wildlife last year launched the first Texas Geocache Challenge, in which two groups of state parks were used as a pilot to see if the event would gain popularity.

Tyler just happened to be in the epicenter of one of those groups, and Tyler State Park was participating, so we marched up there and, using a Geocache iPhone app, managed to find the box.

I'll explain more in a second, but first a look at this geocache thing. There is a subculture of folks out there dedicated to planting and finding a geocache, which basically is a fancy word for a container hidden somewhere and requiring the use of a GPS decide to find the given coordinates. Some are big boxes, like with the state challenge, while others could be large enough for only a small log to be inserted.

They are all around us and could be hidden in almost anything. There is one by Calder Elementary School hidden in a lamppost, for example. Many geocachers have handles and log their finds online. Here is a link to the official site: http://www.geocaching.com/

Back to last year. After the Tyler State Park score, we decided to see if we could find others in the region. My wife, Amy, came along for the find out at Purtis Creek State Park.

Each state-challenge box contains a unique hole punch to use on the log sheet. It also contains the answer to a log sheet question corresponding to that particular state park. The hole punches and completed questions are there so state officials can verify whether a geocacher indeed found the boxes. You also write your name in the box's log book. The first 25 people to submit a completed log sheet to the state got a commemorative coin and a certificate. Everyone else who submitted a completed log got a certificate. Another aspect of geocaching is trading trinkets. People leave behind things like plastic soldiers, and if you take something, you leave something. I've left everything from Buffalo Blonde (my band) CDs to a Cattle Barons T-shirt. Usually the prizes are not that grand.

Our quest last year ended at Daingerfield State Park north of Longview. The Chevy Blazer, towing a camper, broke down halfway there. Weeks later, the boys and I decided to try again, and the Blazer broke down in the park entrance. We tried our best to find the geocache while Amy drove up to retrieve us, but after an extensive search, we could not find it. I suspected someone moved it to keep others from getting into the Top 25.

Since then, Amy gave me a serious GPS device to use. The state this year expanded the challenge to include several regions statewide, with 14 state parks participating in the Northeast Texas region, spanning from north of Sulphur Springs to Crockett and Mexia all the way up to Atlanta near Texarkana. That's a big region.

With no aspirations of being among the Top 25 first to find, the boys and I set out June 26, the day after the challenge started, to grab the Tyler State Park geocache. It took us 15 minutes to get near the geocache, but finding it proved difficult. I still relaid more on the iPhone app than the GPS, with which I was not quite familiar yet. My oldest son, Curt, 9, lost morale and started whining incessantly. I thought about giving up, but then I sat him down and said, "We can do this. The geocache is here. We just have to look hard for it. We can't give up." So we started looking again, and there, in the crook of a fallen tree, we found it. I learned my lesson about the unreliability of the iPhone app.

That sparked geocache fever.

A week later, my youngest son, Luke, 7, and I drove out to Martin Creek Lake State Park and nailed that geocache in minutes. I had become more familier with the GPS device and figured out how to get within 20 feet of the box. Two days later, the whole family toodled out to Purtis Creek, which required a long hike. Amy found the box before anyone else.

Geocache fever grew.

With sights set on completing the challenge and getting a certificate, the boys and I set out Saturday to score four geocaches in one day. The trip took us far north to Lake Bob Sandlin, two Cooper Lake State Park boxes and then Lake Tawakoni. As we found one box after another, it occurred to me that none of the boxes had more than a dozen visits. That meant the Top 25 was more than within reach.

Geochache fever soared.

We decided to score four more Sunday. That odyssey took us far south, to Mission Tejas State Park west of Alto, Fort Boggy near Fairfield, Fort Parker only 40 miles east of Waco and then back to Fairfield State Park. With each find, we got better and better at geocaching. There was a sense of determination in the car, and nary a complaint about the sometimes tough hikes, poison ivy, bugs and 100-plus temperatures.

Along the way, something else dawned on me. Many of the geocachers before us had remarked that they had like nine down and two to go, or had gone beyond the halfway point to 11. I'd thought we had to get all 14, and then I vaguely remembered something I'd read on the state website about this challenge.

On Tuesday, I contacted Texas Parks and Wildlife about the rules and was delighted to learn that geocachers had to get only 11 out of 14 in the Northeast Texas region. I grabbed our log, filled out the remaining paperwork and had the package in the mail to Texas Parks and Wildlife within an hour.

We're pretty much guaranteed an unexpected Top 25 finish, perhaps even a Top 5 finish, perhaps even No. 1, with this challenge. We hiked, learned about the environment, got some history lessons, did some father-son bonding and saw some spectacular scenery. Each state park is a wonder unto itself.

But most of all, we learned that the fruits of never quitting can be the best reward of all.

http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/spdest/activities/outdoor_recreation/geocache/index.phtml

This never gets old

2011-06-20T09:06:00.001-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZa7hU6tP_s

Indy car racing rocks

2011-06-15T10:12:00.002-05:00

I took the boys Saturday to the Indy car race at Texas Motor Freeway. There were 73,000 people there, although it's hard to know that because the seating area stretches for like a half mile.
It was a relatively upscale crowd compared to what I’ve heard about NASCAR fans, with the females often flashing people all over the place and lots of overall redneck behavior. I don’t think I’d want to subject the kids to that. (Even though I saw a lot of that as a kid at 1970s-era Texas chili cookoffs!)
Those NASCAR events draw like 250,000 people, and it practically takes days to get in and out of the parking lot. Plus, you wind up parking literally miles away from the track. So I think I’ll pass on that and maybe hit the Indy race again next year. What was great is that they divided it into two races, with the same drivers. They just switched up poll positions. It all counted toward points and standings on the Indy circuit, kind of like NASCAR does. Danica Patrick and all that were there.
The first race was over in an hour. That was plenty, and we were out of there and swimming in the hotel pool by the time the second race started. I imagine it took awhile for people to get out of there. Their cars go WAY FASTER than NASCAR vehicles.
NASCAR cars are capable of going about 215 but usually travel below 200 in a race. The Indy cars AVERAGED around 212 during this particular race, and they go so fast that you can hardly pick out the number on the car as it zooms by. The sound is indescribable and just gets into your bones.
Most people wear earplugs for protection, but unlike a lot of other really loud, eardrum-damaging things for which you use earplugs, you kind of want to listen to the race at full volume because it’s such an adrenaline rush to do so.

Pat and the Assault on Pinewood

2011-06-02T16:43:00.008-05:00

Only the post-Hurricane Ike effort generated a greater physical, mental and emotional challenge for me.
I arrived at our former Pinewood home to find the place filthy and in disrepair. We love that house, which has a charming set of bones and soul. There is just something great about waking up to the sound of hooting owls, seeing deer standing in the front yard and experiencing Pinewood in general.
Taking a first look at the empty house (or mostly empty due to a bunch of debris the tenant left behind), it was rather heartbreaking and demoralizing to see all that needed to be done to get it ready for the market. This is MY house, and it had been victimized.
There was little in the way of structural damage, but it was just messy, as underscored by a full load of unwashed stuff in the dishwasher.
But the crowning example of the home's brief lowpoint was discovered in one of the boy's former bedrooms.
There, sitting on a closet shelf, was a evil baby doll, crawling with clawed hands and bearing a mouth full of fangs. It was a shocking moment.
I wanted nothing to do with this thing and left it for the cleaning crew to remove. A photo of it was posted on Facebook, which drew a demand from the copy desk to bring it to work. I obliged.
Yesterday, hijinks ensued when we stuck it in front of the CBS19 cam in the newsroom. They quickly posted the image on Facebook, and it became a mini-viral splash.
The copy editor who has adopted the baby has named it "Pat" due to gender uncertainty. (Remember Pat from Saturday Night Live?)
Our Pinewood home has been made whole again thanks to contractors, a cleaning crew and lots of my own hard work. And the abandoned Pat now lives under the copy desk.
Long live Pat!

Unbelievable! I got it back!

2011-05-02T16:24:00.002-05:00

This blog was created to blow off some steam in Hurricane Rita's aftermath. I continued writing for it right up until 2009, when I lost the ability to sign in for some reason.

Because the account was created through an expired e-mail account, I couldn't find the password.

Today, I decided to give it another try, and it logged me right in and had changed the e-mail account to my personal gmail account.

Maybe I'll start posting again!

Think A Possible Pandemic Isn't Scary?

2009-04-30T09:45:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-27T16:17:00.001-06:00

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

2009-02-27T16:15:00.000-06:00

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

Storm Flashbacks

2009-02-11T16:44:00.002-06:00

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!

2009-02-10T08:56:00.005-06:00

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

2009-01-24T13:26:00.003-06:00

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

2009-01-22T08:45:00.002-06:00

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

2009-01-14T16:42:00.005-06:00

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.

Go Ahead, Make My Day And Call ...

2009-01-08T09:06:00.003-06:00

Telephone solicitors these days apparently try to cram a lifetime's worth of calls into one month.
After we got our Tyler telephone set up, the calls started immediately. I registered the number with the Do Not Call Registry - https://www.donotcall.gov/ - but it doesn't go into effect for 31 days, so we're in a fusillade of telemarketing.
I've never understood the point. With the exception of lonely people who like to talk, I can't imagine why anyone would find the calls anything other than seriously annoying.
Prior to the Do Not Call Registry's creation, when the telemarketers were not so desperate and had time to get to their victims, I rather enjoyed an occasional call. There's all kinds of fun to be had with telemarketers.
And I'm doing the same thing now, with the half dozen or so calls we receive every night from, according to the caller identification, the "unknown."
One of my favorites is to just hand the phone to one of the kids, who ask all kinds of goofy questions or just scream into the line, as instructed. Sometimes I'll put on an accent and speak in gibberish:

Solicitor: "Hello, sir! Is this Brian?"
Me: "Gabba da gooby dah blabbahlah?"
Solicitor: "Uh, is this Brian?"
Me: "GABBA BO-BLABBY ARGER BLAH BEE BLABBAH!!!!!!!!! AAAAAHHH!!! AAAAHH!!!"

They usual hang up after a couple of rounds of this.
A friend of mine unleashed a great one. He enthusiastically went along with everything the solicitor said. Finally, the solicitor got curious and asked why my friend was so enthusiastic, to which my friend replied, "BECAUSE I'M SO LONELY, BABY!!!!!!"
My favorite calls come from circulation folks from competing newspapers. They don't know I work for the home team, so I go on and on and on about how the local newspaper is soooooooooo much better than that rag he's promoting.
One hapless solicitor caught me while I was practicing my trumpet, and he got an earful of loudly blasted "Taps."
A couple of nights ago, a conversation when like this:

Solicitor: "Hello! Is this Brian?"
Brian: "Who is this?"
Solicitor: "This is John Forritt!"
Brian: "Well, THIS IS JOHN AGAINST IT!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

He hung up.
Alas, I am but an amateur at solicitor harrassment. Solicitor abuse apparently is a popular amusement across the land. See for yourself:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oh4EPcOpSy8&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzL81IqgoAI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YB-RbKbKPs0&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkE1Nbk-wuI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ni4qnCUzf54&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9nJ0rpAcqk&feature=related

And here is the grandaddy of them all:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5z4Vs26-TI&feature=related

No Snakes Yet, But ...

2008-12-26T16:13:00.002-06:00

There's always one house on the block where all the kids go. The mom is always accommodating, and maybe the kids who live there have better stuff with which to play.
While our new Tyler home so far hasn't had the same wildlife excitement as our Pinewood place, the abundance of furry things running amok is perhaps greater.
I came home a couple of weeks ago to find not one but three dogs running around our back yard. The neighbor's dogs, wanting to socialize with our fun-loving puppy, burrowed their way under the fence. They've been back a couple of times since then.
Last night, a yappy dog from another neighbor's yard somehow got into our back yard, and my wife awoke at 3 a.m. today to find some woman walking around in our back yard with a flashlight and trying to corner her little yipper.
This came after I engaged in a cat rodeo in our new attic.
We were saddling up to go to the park yesterday so my kids could test drive some Christmas presents when my alarmed wife reported some strange noises above the master bedroom. Something was scratching at the air-conditioner duct.
Immediately, I suspected the neighbor's cat, who is rather nosy and will just walk in through any open door. It must be addicted to curiosity, more so than the usual cat.
So I put on a dust mask and head lamp, loaded up the pellet gun and headed up the ladder, which is in the garage. I didn't want to take the chance that it was an angry raccoon and not be armed.
I immediately saw the glowing eyes in the far corner of the attic, and sure enough, it was "Lucky," the nosy black cat from next door. As I carefully made my way across the dusty attic, Lucky pushed deep into the insulation in the far corner, so much so that I couldn't even see him.
I tossed a few little boards in his direction, hoping to scare him out, but he wouldn't budge. After a few minutes of coaxing, he finally came out, scampered across the attic and went down the staircase.
From now on, if Lucky wants to live up to his name, he might want to dial down his curiosity. Otherwise, he might wander into a portal somewhere from which there is no return.

Santa Tracker Better Than Ever

2008-12-24T11:04:00.003-06:00

While Christmas is a time of tradition, this technological upgrade to one Santa tracking site is a beautiful thing:

http://www.noradsanta.org/en/home.html

It includes VIDEOS of Santa dashing across various regions of the globe.

Here are some other Santa trackers:
http://www.santaclaus.net/SantaTracker.asp
http://www.travelbygps.com/special/santa/tracker.php
http://mirror.airservicesaustralia.com/santa08/santa.asp

Oh, and here's a not-so-friendly, Scrooge-shooting Santa timewaster for you while you kill some time before you go home from work:
http://www.ugoplayer.com/games/santasniper.html

Now This Is Some Scary Stuff

2008-12-23T10:06:00.001-06:00

http://www.wimp.com/scariesttrail/

I think I'd rather attempt Mount Everest.

There's Always Someone Out There Thinking Up This Stuff

2008-12-20T18:07:00.000-06:00

Complicating The Already Complicated

2008-12-16T16:34:00.002-06:00

Long ago, I chronicled the drama of trying to get a FEMA check following Hurricane Rita, which put a 100-foot-tall pine tree on our Beaumont home.
Part of it was my fault, thanks to juxtaposing the routing number with the checking account number on the FEMA form. My application then made a hilarious journey that took it through the U.S. Treasury Department and then right back to Square 1 - the FEMA office in Austin.
After Hurricane Ike, which put a 60-foot oak tree on our Pinewood home, the folly had nothing to do with FEMA, which was far more tight-fisted with its funds, although I did get $160 for a chain saw.
No, this time the problem was with the mortgage company, whom I'll call Lender X, whose name was on the insurance check.
Lender X has a threshold for these kinds of checks. Exceeding the threshold means having to send the check off to Lender X never-never land, where it is held in escrow and doled it out in burps as repairs progress. It also involves scheduling Lender X-hired inspectors, and that takes five days a pop.
The work was only supposed to take a week, so going the never-never land route meant extending the construction time by weeks while inspectors were scheduled.
Looking at the total damage, it was clear that if the destruction to the yard, fence and outdoor shed were subtracted from the insurance check amount, the amount for repairs to the main structure were far below the Lender X threshold. The tree mostly just clipped the roof over an outdoor storage closet.
With the move to Tyler looming, I made the fateful decision to go for an "exception," which a Lender X representative told me would only take five days to process.
That was Nov. 13, and I'm still waiting to put some insurance money in the bank so I can repair my slightly damaged home and get repaid for the money and effort I've already put into repairs and cleanup, some of it thanks to that $160 chain saw.
First, Lender X lost the worksheet detailing the insurance adjustor's notes on damages. Lender X found the worksheet and then sent it off to another department, which was to decide whether to grant the exception.
Weeks went by before I learned that the hangup was the shed, which I destroyed and burned myself. The question was whether the shed was part of the property's appraised value, which it was not, but those kinds of things take a long time to figure out at a lumbering, bureaucratically constipated behemoth such as Lender X.
Today, I called Lender X again, only to be told that the hangup was that they were waiting on me to send the worksheet. After I did some yapping, they determined that the first person who took the call back in November simply failed to make a notation on the computerized form. They claimed that they'll have a check in the mail within 48 hours, but I wouldn't bet my overworked chain saw on it.
So here it is, more than three months after Hurricane Ike, and the house, which we need to put on the market because we've moved to Tyler, remains as slightly damaged as it was then, with no money in the bank to pay for the repairs.
I would have been better off going through the long, tedious escrow process in the first place.
No wonder why our lending system is so messed up.

Timewaster Of The Week-Dec. 12

2008-12-12T08:20:00.001-06:00

1,000 awesome things!

http://1000awesomethings.com/the-top-1000/

A new one is added daily.

Charming Times In Tyler

2008-12-10T09:18:00.003-06:00

Nothing gets done simply in the world my wife calls The Pearson Family Adventures. It's not just a fly or two in the ointment. It's all ointment-covered flies sometimes.
My move to Tyler has been no different.
There was The Little Blazer That Could, pulling a wagging 6-by-12 trailer mostly likely loaded well beyond the poor vehicle's towing capacity. There was the mortgage circus, which I'll detail later. I haven't really moved into the house yet. There is no electricity.
Beyond all the craziness, though, there is a unique sense of charm in Tyler. I was suprised to find that folks here out-friendly Southeast Texans, if you can believe that.
Here's an example:
As the clock ticked down last week to moving here, the mortgage folks informed me that the jittery underwriters decided that I absolutely could not close on the house until a day after I'd started work at the Tyler Morning Telegraph.
I responded with two questions: Where are you going to put me up? Where are you going to store my trailer full of stuff? What am I going to do with the dog?
So now I'm staying at a fishing resort, my trailer load was placed in the sellers' home and my dog is somewhere out in the country staying with the mortgage broker.
Realtors usually want to keep apart buyers and sellers, but in this case, underscoring the way things get done here, the sellers, a young couple moving to the Dallas area, agreed to let me put my trailer load in their garage.
I arrived at the house Sunday to find the wife alone at home and frantically boxing up things. So there we were, seller and buyer, with me unloading and she packing. She even let our dog run around her back yard. Meanwhile, her husband was off hunting. (If I tried to go hunting while my wife boxed up a house in advance of a move, there'd be nothing left of me but a greasy spot.)
I ran out of room in the garage's storage closet, so the woman allowed me to store stuff inside the house.
A few minutes later, she took off, leaving me all alone in the house.
With the trailer finally unloaded, I left the couple a note of thanks and a CD from my band, Buffalo Blonde.
For all I know, that CD now could be lying on the Interstate 20 roadside, but at least I took my first step in trying to fit in around here.

The Long, Heartbreaking, Deeply Meaningful Goodbye Column You're Supposed To Write When You Leave One Newspaper Job For Another

2008-12-03T08:24:00.003-06:00

We're moving to Tyler!

Bye bye Beaumont!

So long Sour Lake!

See ya, snakes!

(I plan on keeping the blog going, by the way. I wouldn't want to let down the dozens of readers!)

Timesaver Of The Week-Dec. 1

2008-12-01T11:30:00.002-06:00

Holiday movie season is here, so a lot of big ol' blockbusters will be coming out.

Perhaps you missed some blockbusters of the past and feel the need to catch up.

Well, worry no more, because these guys can save you the wasted time by giving you the spoilers to 100 movies in under 5 minutes.

Warning! Mass spoiler alert!

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1890198/

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

2008-11-26T15:17:00.000-06:00

Timewaster Of The Week-Nov. 25

2008-11-25T10:43:00.000-06:00

Turkey time!

http://www.southbank-design.co.uk/turkeyshoot/index.htm

What Is The Meaning Of This?

2008-11-24T15:44:00.002-06:00

This site has a bunch of interesting background on old sayings and word origins:

http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~genepool/meanings.htm

It includes:
Blackmail
Bought the farm
In like flin/flint
Break a leg
In the lime light

and my personal favorite:
Jumping Jehoshaphat!

Epic Fail

2008-11-21T11:58:00.005-06:00

Failure, or at least the opportunity to point out failure, is trendy these days.

Plenty of examples of failure can be found on YouTube, but this little site has pretty much cornered the failure market:

http://failblog.org/

Here are some examples:

It took me a second to get the last one. Lots of the "fails" on this site aren't suitable for an award-winning family-oriented blog such as this one, so beware. Most of the stuff is wicked funny.

Soldier Boy Comes Home

2008-11-20T12:11:00.006-06:00

It is unknown when the soldier-boy light switch made his debut on the bedroom wall of my childhood home, where my parents moved in on their wedding night in 1962 and never left.
I just remember it always being there.
My sister had a girly switch in her bedroom, and it went away about the time she went off to college.
I insisted that soldier boy stay, and my parents honored the request. It served as fond reminder of a closed childhood chapter. It was also kind of funny.
The Houston home underwent a number of transformations over the years. New tile was installed. Carpets and furniture came and went. The kitchen was extensively remodelled.
After Dad died in January 2007, Mom went on a remodeling rampage, as some widows do in their grief as they try to start their lives anew. In my old bedroom, the old wooden shelves that Dad built were removed. New carpet was installed. Tile was put down in the closet. A new coat of paint came, too.
The soldier-boy switch remained.
This past Saturday, I entered the house for only the second time since Mom's sudden death to pancreatic cancer. The home was frozen in time. The covers were still as they were when she wheeled out of bed for the last time, unable to withstand the stomach pain any longer and knowing she needed to go to the hospital. The TV remote lay just as she left it. A glass with evidence of evaporated water sat on the night stand.
It was spooky quiet, but the house and back yard seemed alive with the ghosts of family memories.
I had come to do the dreaded task of removing furniture and various belongings. Knowing my sister would be doing the same soon, I left the place a little disheveled to minimize the impact the old home would have on her.
After everything was loaded on the truck, I had one more task before locking up the house and perhaps never seeing its interior again.
I removed the soldier-boy light switch.
All the furniture, wall hangings and photographs are one thing, but the image that remained burning in my brain as I drove away in the truck was that empty cavity the soldier boy guarded for more than 40 years. His relief from duty there ends a life chapter. The house will never be the same.
The soldier boy's mission, though, is not over. Somewhere out there, he'll stand vigil on a wall of a home that our boys will have to clean out some day.

Timewaster Of The Week-Nov. 20

2008-11-20T12:11:00.001-06:00

Kill!

Kill 'em all!

http://www.onemorelevel.com/game/storm_the_house_3

Pinewood Does Everything In A Big Way

2008-11-12T10:10:00.006-06:00

We live in a fantastic neighborhood. There's a real sense of community out there in Pinewood, located halfway between Beaumont and Sour Lake.

When we burn, we burn big.

When hurricanes hit, we have more trees down than anybody else.

When we party, we party big, as we did during the terrific Halloween celebration.

Our owls, snakes and deer can beat up your owls, snakes and deer.

Pinewood also is known for its flooding, although it's really only the same tired three houses along the golf course that actually get flooded. I don't believe anyone lives in them anymore.

We had big rains in October 2006, and the creek came up in our back yard.

Last night, we had some big rains again, only I didn't realize just how big until this morning, when we awoke to our back yard looking like this:

It wasn't even close to the house, so no worries there. Plus, it drains off very fast. We're not even in a flood plain.

With all the craters where trees used to be back there, it'll be interesting to see what it looks like after the water recedes.

Timewaster Of The Week-Nov. 10

2008-11-10T08:52:00.001-06:00

This is a great little problem-solving game:

http://www.onemorelevel.com/game/splitter

Timewaster Of The Week-Nov. 3

2008-11-03T08:57:00.002-06:00

Yes, we're all sad that baseball season is over and Halloween has passed.

So here's a little something to help you cope:

ZOMBIE BASEBALL!

http://www.gamekrunch.com/content/zombie-baseball

Interesting Old Photo

2008-10-31T17:15:00.002-05:00

See if you can figure out what's not quite right in this sports picture:

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=snibbe/081031

Hurricane Humor

2008-10-30T09:07:00.003-05:00

These are floating around via e-mail right now. Some are just too true for comfort!

You know you're from the Gulf Coast if:
1. You have FEMA's number on your speed dialer.
2. You have more than 300 'C' and 'D' batteries in your kitchen drawer.
3. Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti O's.
4. You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.
5. When describing your gutted house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and an open air feel to it.
6. Your SSN isn't a secret, it's written in Sharpie on your arms.
7. You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.
8. You are delighted to pay $4.00 for a gallon for regular unleaded.
9. The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone.
10. You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.
11. You own more than three large coolers.
12. You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.
13. You rationalize helping a friend board up by thinking it'll only take a gallon of gas to get there and back.
14. You have 2-liter coke bottles and milk jugs filled with water in your freezer.
15. Three months ago you couldn't hang a shower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight.
16. You catch a 13-pound red fish - in your house.
17. You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy.
18. You consider a vacation to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi.
19. At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw.
20. You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.
21. There is a roll of tar roofing paper in your garage.
22. You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather Channel.
23. Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.
24. Ice is a valid topic of conversation.
25. Your drive-thru meal consists of MRE's and bottled water.
26. Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.
27. You spend more time on your roof then in your living room.
28. You've been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.
29. A battery powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.
30. You don't worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.
31. Your child's first words are hunker down.
32. Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it's Christmas.
33. Toilet Paper is elevated to coin of the realm at the shelters.
34. You know the difference between the Clean side of a storm and the Dirty side.
35. Your kids start school in August and finish in July.
36. You go to work early and stay late just to enjoy the air conditioning.
37. You are prepared to wait in line at Starbucks for 2 hours to get a cup of coffee.

Timewaster Of The Week-Oct. 28-BONUS

2008-10-28T12:03:00.001-05:00

Posted this last year:

http://www.dedge.com/flash/halloween/

Ah, the smartybritches hangman!

Timewaster Of The Week-Oct. 28

2008-10-28T10:49:00.000-05:00

Life isn't fair, and neither is this frustrating game:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/games/play/911486/

Sarah Palin Gets PWNED!

2008-10-24T09:24:00.002-05:00

I don't know the back story on this, but I do know she's got the wrong animal there on the scarf.

http://blog.newsweek.com/blogs/stumper/archive/2008/10/21/in-which-sarah-palin-displays-the-latest-in-donkey-fashion.aspx

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM6t4Y7u5pI

Silsbee School Officials Stick Heads In Sand

2008-10-23T11:25:00.003-05:00

About a decade ago, a little girl disappeared off an elementary school campus in Killeen, where I was editor of the newspaper. Witnesses saw someone come up to a playground fence, pick up the girl and carry her away.
Drug-sniffing dogs picked up her scent on campus. In addition, records showed that the little girl had used her breakfast card in the cafeteria that morning.
A massive search effort ensued. A few days later, the girl's badly decomposed body was found in a rocky ditch near a river.
The school district could have served as an instrument of community calm. Instead, it circled the wagons, refusing to address the tragedy publicly. The district even denied that the girl was on campus that fateful morning.
Now, the Silsbee school district is doing the same in the aftermath of an arrest of three football players in the reported sexual assault of a cheerleader.
Other than a couple of brief statements issued via e-mail, the entire district has been tight-lipped about the incident. Media calls to district officials have been ignored. At a time when SISD could address community fears, it is burying its head in the dirt.
A wise Vietnam vet once told me that the only way to survive an ambush is to fight your way through it, and this is the approach that SISD should be taking. Instead of clamming up and hoping the issue will go away - and it won't - it should be taking a proactive stance, assuring the public that it is addressing the problem, particularly on campus, where professional counselors should be made available to help students through this difficult time.
Perhaps the district is doing a fine job of handling the crisis in-house. But that doesn't go far enough. Parents and the public have a right to know that the district is doing something more than circling the wagons.

Timewaster Of The Week-Oct. 20

2008-10-20T16:15:00.002-05:00

Early voting started today, with turnout this year expected to be heavy.

But maybe we could save all this time, expense and emotional energy by deciding our new president this way:

http://armorgames.com/play/2453/battleground-states-2008

Another Candidate Pick 'Em

2008-10-14T14:13:00.001-05:00

Answer the questions, and it shows how well your views match up with the presidential candidates:

http://www.stopandvote.org/candidate_selection.html

Ring! Ring! *%$#@$@#@!!!!!!

2008-10-13T13:26:00.002-05:00

Few things generate cold-sweat terror like a telephone call in the dead of night.
All is peaceful, and then BAM! The heart races. The mind struggles to gain consciousness. The sweat pours forth.
It's 3 a.m., so what's the deal? Who is it? Why are they calling? What horrible news am I about to hear?
Sleep-destroying night calls were common at our old house in Beaumont, thanks to our number being one digit off from someone who apparently stayed up all night.
It had never happened at our new home out in the country - until last night.
Ever since Hurricane Ike, I've spent every weekend, from dawn til dusk, sawing, hauling and burning debris around in my yard. Staying up past 9 p.m. on those grueling days has been almost impossible. Many times, I've fallen asleep on the couch, only to wake up at 2 a.m. with my dried-out contact lenses glued to my eyeballs.
Last night, I decided to avoid that by turning in early after perhaps the most physically demanding day yet in the post-Ike cleanup. While I was in very deep sleep for what seemed like hours, the telephone rang, jolting me awake.
It's 3 a.m., so what's the deal? Who is it? Why are they calling? What horrible news am I about to hear?
With my pulse pounding, I grabbed the phone, and what might go down as the most bizarre thing I've ever done, I inexplicably launched an assault on the caller.
WHO THE %^%$#@!!! IS THIS?!?!?! WHAT THE %^%$#@!!! IS GOING ON?!?!?!
A soft, rather timid voice responded. It was my wife, who informed me that she was on the phone with the administrator of my son's preschool. She had called about my wife's availability for substitute teaching.
And it was only 9 p.m.
DOH!
Somehow, in the span of about 10 minutes, I had fallen into hard sleep, so hard that I thought it was in the wee hours of the morning when the phone rang.
I got off the phone and fell quickly back to sleep, but I awoke this morning with my heart racing, remembering the call and wondering why the heck that I had responded that way. The wife was furious with me and thought I was policing her phone calls, that I didn't trust her or something.
After bountiful apologies to the wife, I drove by the preschool on the way to work and apologized to the administrator like I'd never apologized to anyone before and tried to explain myself, which was hard to do. The apology was accepted, thank goodness, but I'm still trying to understand what happened.
I'll probably never figure it out, but one thing is for certain: I'm going to dial it back a notch when it comes to exerting myself in the yard from now on.

Timewaster Of The Week-Oct. 13

2008-10-13T11:29:00.000-05:00

Waste time with a dolphin:

http://armorgames.com/play/2019/dolphin-olympics-2

Maybe We Need To Do This

2008-10-09T17:59:00.003-05:00

Southeast Texans have it tough.

We're stilling climbing out of the Hurricane Ike rubble AND dealing with this economic meltdown crap. People are losing their jobs, and retirement investments are swirling down the toilet.

Maybe it's time to GET MAD AS HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_qgVn-Op7Q&feature=related

The Loss Of A Mother

2008-10-02T09:57:00.002-05:00

Mom was skeptical last year when I asked to say a few words at my dad's funeral services. She apparently liked what she heard, because on her death bed last week she asked that I do the eulogy for her, which I delivered Tuesday.
Just before Hurricane Ike, she went to a Houston hospital complaining of stomach pains. Days later, with her condition rapidly worsening, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, a very nasty and aggressive thing.
She died a week ago today.
I always figured she'd live to be 100 or at least outlive her husband, who died at age 87, and her mother, who died at age 90.
But she really never got over her broken heart over my dad's passing, and I believe that profound grief and loneliness allowed her body turned on itself.
With my dad, who died two months after surgical complications, I had plenty of time to reflect on his life. With my mom, I only had a matter of days.
I don't want to reveal her age, due to an agreement we had long ago. I agreed not to tell anyone her age in exchange for her not coaching me while I drove.
But, boy did she live a full life.
Her side of the family has a rich history. Our early ancestors came up from Mexico in a covered wagon in the early 1800s and helped settle Texas. Two of our ancestors fought for Texas independence at the Battle of San Jacinto.
My mother was raised by a single mother in Dallas during The Great Depression. When she was old enough to leave home, she made up for her struggles by living large in California and San Antonio. She even had a date with Dan Blocker. If Hoss Cartright from “Bonanza” is grilling you a steak, you know you’re living large.
She eventually settled in Houston, where she became an executive secretary for a major oil company. She was a part of the same long-gone 1950s social scene as famous Houstonians such as Al Vargo and Sonny Looks.
She married my dad in 1962 and moved into their new home on their wedding night. They shared that home for 44 years, and she lived in it right up until her fateful trip to the hospital last month.
With my sister and I off to college, she channeled her empty-nest syndrome into a new business. She dressed up in Victorian garb and gave Beatrix Potter presentations to children in libraries and classrooms all over the Houston area. She became rather famous, too.
She was always someone I could count on in a fix, whether it be emotional, financial or whatever.
Mom was quite a character, and I'm going to miss her. I feel like a vital link to my childhood is all gone.
I take comfort in knowing that she is reunited with Dad. Her suffering is over, and her broken heart is now mended.
Here's a little video my brother-in-law put together:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_G2wA0OCDI

Timewaster Of The Week-Sept. 23

2008-09-23T13:41:00.001-05:00

You have to use tools to build little devices to get a pink circle from Point A to Point B.

http://www.onemorelevel.com/game/fantastic_contraption

Golden Grinder

2008-09-22T15:24:00.002-05:00

The odd in-ground tank in the back yard for a while was about as mysterious as that hatch on "Lost."
I only witnessed it come to life once, as indicated by a funny red light on a nearby outside wall of the house. It happened during the great rains of October 2006, so I assumed it had something to do with rising water.
In a way, it kind of did, but not the kind of fluid one would swim in or drink.
Every catastrophe comes with its mindless, overwhelming array of logistical problems, and the grinder became Logistical Problem No. 1 for us during Hurricane Ike's aftermath.
After Hurricane Rita, it was the weatherhead that had the No. 1 title. A tree took it out, and a power company won't hook up a customer with a busted weather head. With Florida Power and Light coming up the street, I desperately tried to call electricians, but they all had weeks-long waiting lists - and I needed one in 20 minutes.
I called a contractor who stuck his card in the front door and told him my home-repair job was his if he could deploy an electrician immediately. One arrived 15 minutes later, and power to the home was on that night.
Ike took out our weather head again. The trusty old contractor had the new weatherhead up the next day.
Later that day, I found out what a grinder does. It works as a combination sink disposal and sewage lift station. When waste reaches a certain level in the tank, the grinding and pumping begin, pushing the waste to the sewer system, which is slightly uphill.
No electricity means no grinder. And no grinder ... well ...
So that forced an entry into the regionwide generator scramble, and I needed a big one to handle that 220-volt grinder.
The monster generator brought home for the job didn't work. A replacement was on the scene the next morning, but it didn't come with was needed to hook the generator into the breaker box. The grinder couldn't just be plugged directly into the generator.
To hook the generator into the box, a 10/4 cable and a special four-prong plug were needed. Those cables and plugs become gold after an electricity-cutting disaster. It took a lot of craziness and scampering around to acquire those items.
A neighbor and I tried - and failed - to hook the generator into the box. While servicing the generator that evening, I smelled something foul and looked over in horror to see the Old Faithful of raw sewage pouring out of the grinder tank's top.
That was it. No more sewage. Any more flushing would result in a back up into the house.
The next morning, I placed a desperate call to the trusty contractor, who immediately came over, hooked up the generator and got the grinder going again. When it's time to grind, everything else has to be shut down as the generator strains to handle that 220-volt grinder motor.
But the grinder adventure hasn't ended. When the power crew comes to attach the house to the main power line, it will disconnect the generator, and a race against time begins. There's only so much room in that grinder tank. The power needs to come on not long after the reconnection, or else.
Furthermore, I need some lime, and not the kind you squeeze into a Corona bottle. There needs to be a reduction of fumes and biohazard dangers around the grinder top, but a trip to various stores around the city today during the lunch hour proved futile.
Maybe I'll hammer a few Coronas tonight while I brainstorm ways to find some lime.

Ike Damage Photos

2008-09-18T09:57:00.005-05:00

All from my property.

Trash Palace, Part II

2008-09-15T17:11:00.002-05:00

About three years ago, I started this blog solely as a means to blow off Hurricane Rita-related steam.
This town looked like a big palace of trash after the storm, hence the name.
Well, it's Trash City once again thanks to Hurricane Ike.
We're recovering quicker, but the pain of dealing with another one of these things remains - and will remain for awhile.
The yard was trashed. The 20-by-10-foot shed was obliterated. The hurricane gods fulfilled their mission of taking out my weather head - again. (The weather head is that thingy that serves as the power-line collection point.) Power might not come back for weeks.
But at least we fared better than my old house, which took a 100-foot pine tree to head during Rita. I checked yesterday, and this time, the huge oak tree in the back fell on the house, making its backside look like a dented tin can.
So we are lucky and unlucky. I'll post some photos later.
Sure, it's a great news story, but I think I'm fine never having to go through this crap again.

Neato Hurricane Ike Track Evolution

2008-09-11T15:44:00.000-05:00

This is pretty cool:

http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/archive/2008/graphics/al09/loop_5W.shtml

Watch The End Of The World Live!

2008-09-10T09:18:00.002-05:00

Scientists today in a 17-mile underground tunnel at the border of France and Switzerland cranked up an atom smasher that some believe will create a black hole that will devour the Earth.

Here's a live broadcast:

http://webcast.cern.ch/index.html

The purpose is to simulate The Big Bang - which might not be such a great idea, according to some folks - and unlock some secrets of the universe, Ford Park and Crockett Street not included.

Here's some more on it here:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/09/10/lhc.collider/index.html

John Huth, a Harvard University physics professor, concurred that the thing could create small black holes. Black holes in space have gravity so strong that not even light can escape.

But Huth said any black hole the particle smasher creates would take quite a while to eat the Earth.

"The gravitational force is so weak that you'd have to wait many, many, many, many, many lifetimes of the universe before one of these things could [get] big enough to even get close to being a problem," Huth said.

Well, that's comforting, but maybe we'd be better off if they took two of the scientists and smashed them together instead.

Timewaster Of The Week-Sept. 9

2008-09-09T18:20:00.001-05:00

War!

http://www.crazymonkeygames.com/Shadez.html#game

Timewaster Of The Week-Sept. 3

2008-09-03T13:35:00.001-05:00

Seeing as many of you wasted time evacuating, here's a war game for you to take out your frustrations:

http://www.kongregate.com/games/urbz/mud-and-blood-2

He's Brawny, Burly and Has Biceps to Spare

2008-08-27T09:05:00.004-05:00

This could ruin your day - or perhaps even the week and beyond.
I have a diabolical songwriting affliction. Songs create themselves out of nowhere. They stick in the brain for days or weeks.

No one's slick as Gaston
No one's quick as Gaston
No one's neck's as incredibly thick as Gaston

Faraway, unidentifiable music morphs into original music. Songs pour in at 3 a.m. out of nowhere. The simple rhythm of someone's walk results in music. The drone of a carnival ride kick-starts a wicked guitar riff. Entire compositions have emerged from the hours of sitting quietly in a deer blind.

No one's been like Gaston
A king pin like Gaston
No one's got a swell cleft in his chin like Gaston

There are more than 100 of these songs recorded and split between tapes and CDs at home, and that's just a fraction of the anthology. The brain often creates songs I'm incapable of playing, and the catalogue of forgotten songs dwarfs what is recorded or documented on paper.

Often, worlds collide in terrible ways.

No one fights like Gaston
Douses lights like Gaston
In a wrestling match nobody bites like Gaston

So when Hurricane Gustav came along, I was powerless to prevent what happened next. My brain exchanged "Gaston" with "Gustav" in that song from the Disney movie "Beauty and the Beast," and it has been on repeat ever since.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhG9hKiplfQ&feature=related

No one shoots like Gaston
Makes those beauts like Gaston
Then goes tromping around wearing boots like Gaston

Have a nice week, and don't forget to review your hurricane plans.

No one plots like Gustav
Takes cheap shots like Gustav
Plans to persecute harmless crackpots like Gustav

Timewaster Of The Week-Aug. 25

2008-08-25T09:24:00.001-05:00

This story-game one looks kind of complicated:

http://www.kongregate.com/games/ArmorGames/sonny

I don't have the time or patience for these. Maybe you do.

Random Video Of The Day-Aug. 21

2008-08-21T11:17:00.000-05:00

So much for Mr. Showboater:

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

POW!

Requiem For A Snake Story

2008-08-20T16:24:00.003-05:00

Snake stories in this non-award-winning blog have resulted in the first REQUEST.
So here it is:
The half foot of rain the past day on Southeast Texas surely will bring out snakes in Pinewood, where wild and domestic happily co-exist.
Other than the one about the copperhead that got into a neighbor's house and balled up in a pinball machine, there aren't many stories going around regarding horrifying or deadly snake encounters out there - and encounters are common.
When it rains like it has, at least a half dozen dead copperheads, among numerous other serpents, will be lying dead in the road the morning after the rains stop. Rains must make copperheads frisky.
I witnessed this on my first runs after moving out there and at first thought we'd move into a big snake pit.
But live snakes were rare. The ones I saw, usually copperheads, had their heads bashed in. At first, I believed it to be a product of morning motorists' amazing aim.
But I later learned it wasn't the motorists behind the slaughter. Groups of women, most of them senior citizens, were strolling around in the morning, carrying sticks or golf clubs and merrily braining the poor snake that made a fatal decision to slither across the road.
In the more than two years we've lived in Pinewood, I've seen only one live snake on the road while out running. In the pre-dawn light, I didn't see it until the last minute, forcing me to hurdle. I stopped and turned to find a huge water moccasin, casually looking back at me as if to say, "You want some of this?"
I didn't, so I ran on.
Had the little old ladies been there, they would have given him plenty.

That Tune You've Heard A Million Times

2008-08-19T11:46:00.004-05:00

It gets played at almost every professional sporting event, particulary basketball.
It sounds like a drunken bee buzzing a tune.
It's lyrics are anything but complicated.
You know what it is. It's that song where everybody goes "Hey!"
Only it's not called "Hey!" It's called "Rock 'N' Roll (Part 2)." Never mind the reasons.
But how many of you know who created it?
For decades, I've thought it was Electric Light Orchestra. I can't remember why. It does have some ELO qualities to it.
But the musician behind the tune is a British guy named Gary Glitter, who was kind of famous over there during the big glam era of the 1970s.
The only reason Glitter came to mind was because he was released today from a Vietnamese prison after serving about three years for "obscene acts with children," with the incident involving two girls, ages 10 and 11.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,405982,00.html

After reading the story, I looked him up on YouTube and found the "Hey!" song.
Glitter now wants to live in Hong Kong or Singapore instead of Britain. He should still be living in prison for a long time to come.
Although he was a star in Britain, kind of a David Bowie Light, the only splash he made in the United States was "Rock 'N' Roll (Part 2)," which hit the Top 10 here in the early 1970s:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xd44PWZGzg

Here's Part 1, which is kind of Part 2 but with thought-provoking lyrics:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ts78yHRyONg&feature=related

They're both annoying, and surely sports fans have grown tired of Part 2.
Hopefully the guy's star has faded forever, they'll pull the song from sporting events and we'll never be subjected to a Part 3.
Hey!

Timewaster Of The Week-Aug. 18

2008-08-18T09:48:00.000-05:00

Grab bombs. Smash them together. Save the world.

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

Take A Walk

2008-08-13T11:03:00.002-05:00

This nifty site ranks America's most walkable cities:

http://www.walkscore.com/rankings/

Here is the Top 10
1.) San Francisco: I don't know about this. I've walked San Francisco a number of times, and you need legs of steel to handle all the hills. Luckily, the city has great public transportation.
2.) New York: I've never walked it, but I've driven it. I'd rather walk it ... or maybe even lie on my back and scootch myself around on the pavement with my legs. Driving is a nightmarish bloodsport there.
3.) Boston: This is a great walking city, although the people can be grumpy and might not give you the time of day. I'd rank it No. 1.
4.) Chicago: Another great walking city.
5.) Philadelphia: I've never been there, but Rocky made it look like an interesting running city.
6.) Seattle: A great walking city, but kind of a San Francisco Light.
7.) Washington, D.C.: Should be in the Top 3.
8.) Long Beach, Calif.: Never been there.
9.) Los Angeles, Calif.: There are good things to walk and bad things to walk here ...
10.) Portland: Never been there, but they tell me it's nice.

Other Texas cities on the Top 40 list: Dallas (24), Houston (26), Austin (29), El Paso (31), San Antonio (32) and Fort Worth (45). I've run marathons in all of those except El Paso and Fort Worth.

I'd rank their walk value this way:
1.) Austin
2.) San Antonio
3.) Fort Worth
4.) Dallas
5.) Houston
6.) El Paso

You can also plug in addresses/street names and get a rating. Main Street in Beaumont scored a 65 out of 100, making it "somewhat walkable." Dowlen Road got a 38 out of 100, making it "car dependent."
The scores seem heavily dependent on businesses such as restaurants.
My street out in Pinewood near Sour Lake got a horrific 5 out of 100.
This makes no sense. It's a quiet peaceful, neighborhood. Kids cruise up and down on bicycles and golf carts. Groups of women walk for miles in the mornings. There's even a grocery store-restaurant down the street and a restaurant at the golf course a half mile away.
Oh well. I guess the walkability folks aren't too crazy about snakes ...

Snake Of The Week-Aug. 12

2008-08-12T10:37:00.003-05:00

Strange things were afoot the other morning in the ficus tree in the pot outside our front door in Pinewood.
It looked like some kind of debris, but a closer inspection revealed a small snake. It was a serious snake, though, not one of those little dirt snakes common in Southeast Texas yards.
Every time something like this pops up - which happens just about every week in the wilds of Pinewood - the boys get a biology lesson. In the past week alone, they've gotten lessons on those thumb-sized ants running around as well as a friendly katydid. We discuss the critters in detail and differentiate the good from the bad.
The ficus snake at first glance appeared to be a rat snake, a good guy, but there was that small percentage of doubt that prevented me from grabbing him. So I grabbed a mop and used the handle to dislodge him.
He was not happy about this and began striking the mop handle repeatedly. Then he fell off and quickly slithered between some nearby rocks. Upon further attempts to dislodge him, he made a curious rattling sound, although this clearly was not a rattlesnake.
I ruffed him up a little but managed to get him out and transport him to the front ditch, where I set him free. He was gone by the time I came home from work, possibly thanks to the owls that seem to be quite busy this time of year.
A computer search confirmed it as a rat snake, an easily riled snake that makes a rattling sound with its tail when threatened.
Supposedly, they're easily tamed and make OK pets, but I don't think the wife is game for that. Besides, I get all the snake I need just jogging around the neighborhood in the morning.

Random Photo-Aug. 11

2008-08-11T10:51:00.000-05:00

I don't know whether to laugh or call Child Protective Services:

Timewaster Of The Day-Aug. 11

2008-08-11T08:47:00.001-05:00

I have little idea what this is:

http://www.combatgrounds.com

I understand it's basically recruiting guys for an army, training them, buying guns and then attacking people.

Sounds like an awesome way to start the week.

Random Video Of The Day-Aug. 7

2008-08-07T16:28:00.003-05:00

Some good ol' boys from North Carolina singing about barbecue:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ubTQfr_tyY

I disagree with their assessment. North Carolina barbecue can't hold candle to Texas brisket.

Also, who the heck uses mayonaisse in barbecue sauce?

Alabamans.

Yuck!

Also, this one is hilarious:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLn45-7Pn2Y&feature=related

Timewaster Of The Week-Aug. 4

2008-08-04T08:52:00.002-05:00

Flesh-eating zombies apparently make prime gaming fodder. The idea of killing in order to avoid being eaten adds tension to the game.
This is the second version of an old timewaster called The Last Stand, only it's way harder, longer and more complicated:
http://www.crazymonkeygames.com/The-Last-Stand-2.html
Instead of just staying in one spot and blowing away zombies, you have to shoot your way to a safe haven, picking up weapons and non-zombie help along the way.

Toast To The Texas Tea Makers!

2008-07-31T10:37:00.003-05:00

Exxon Mobil has reported monster earnings!

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/5916993.html

Oddly enough, Wall Street didn't think it was enough, and Exxon stock dropped.

Random Video-July 31

2008-07-31T08:55:00.001-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wGR4-SeuJ0

Random Photo-July 31

2008-07-31T08:47:00.001-05:00

The sign is a little hard to read, but it says The Beer Store.

Random Video-July 30

2008-07-30T08:54:00.000-05:00

In some circles, they call this "thinning the herd."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOiWaTSypt4

Random Photo-July 30

2008-07-30T08:40:00.002-05:00

The Tooth Fairy Cometh

2008-07-29T11:01:00.004-05:00

Having spent the past year teaching kindergarten Sunday school, I've grown to understand what's said about girls maturing faster than boys.
In addition to being smarter, better behaved and just more mature all-around, they also lose their baby teeth long before the boys do. There were a lot of girls wanting their two front teef for Christmas.
Until yesterday, none of the boys in the class had lost any teeth, as far as I knew. And the vanguard of the tooth-losing festival among his male peers turned out to be my 6-year-old son, Curt.
With all the hype leading up to the loss, thanks to seeing all his female peers losing teeth, the wife and I thought our human pogo stick of a kid would inform us at the first sign of minimal tooth wiggle. His granny had even given him a special pillow with a pouch for the tooth-for-money program.
However, Curt managed to keep it a secret until Sunday, when he informed us that not only was a bottom front tooth loose, it was darned near out of his mouth. We figured it would be a day or two at best before it fell out.
Yesterday morning, the tooth still seemed too entrenched in meat for extraction by force. During breakfast, Curt got a timeout for smacking his brother. And during that timeout, he fervently went to work on the tooth, yanking it with 3 minutes of his 6-minute timeout to go.
Household jubilation ensued. Leave it to this boy, who can be difficult sometimes, to give new meaning to the term "pulling teeth."
Timeout was over, whether I liked it or not. His brother, Luke, 4, did not like the celebration one little bit and got his pout on. I offered to use pliers to pull out one of his teeth, but he declined.
Last night, the boys went to bed with unusual ease, thanks to a notification that the Tooth Fairy would not cometh with boys still awake.
When I was a boy, I got a quarter per tooth. Adjusting for inflation, that would be like $10,000 these days, but we decided $1 would be fair enough. The $1-for-tooth exchange program went smoothly, and the human pogo stick proudly paraded his buck around the house this morning, much to his brother's chagrin.
Considering how many young kids are so into those goofy shoes with wheels on them, video games, DVDs and other modern-society trappings, it's nice to see a simple thing such as a tooth falling out generate so much excitement.

Timewaster Of The Week Bonus-July 29

2008-07-29T08:39:00.002-05:00

Something has gone awry with Scrabulous. Players are getting a message that the game has been disabled for U.S. and Canadian users.
Here's a silly game called Kitten Cannon that some sick mind produced:
http://www.funny-games.biz/kitten-cannon.html

Bush Movie Trailer Out

2008-07-28T15:30:00.001-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEyJ2kdaaTQ

Yikes!

Oh boy.

I'd like to think Oliver Stone's portrayal of Bush would be better than his portrayal of Jim Morrison, but I doubt it.

Timewaster Of The Week-July 28

2008-07-28T11:59:00.003-05:00

There are all kinds of games on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com

My favorite is Scrabulous, an online Scrabble game for which I have running battles with my wife and other family members. One game with my sister has gone on for well over a month now.

There are no time limits with a move, although if you wait too long, your opponent can "nudge" you, or your game goes off into some dormant-game file until you decide to revive it.

There also are word-scramble games, chess and old-school gems such as Pac Man. With most, you can just play yourself or challenge others.

Facebook is also a great way to find long-lost friends and colleagues.

Facebook also has a lot of silly stuff, like "hatchlings," "superpokes" and notifications to all your friends on your Facebook activities.

I guess everything free in life has its drawbacks.

You Know You Have A Substance Abuse Problem When ...

2008-07-25T11:49:00.003-05:00

Recent news reports noted that Rolling Stones guitarist Ron Wood had entered rehab for a drinking problem.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25705253/

Not that alcoholism is funny, but there was one humorous aspect to the story, that being that none other than Keith Richards, who has made a career out of abusing things and living to tell about it, used a knife and a gun to try to get Wood to stop drinking.

If ol' Keith, who probably shouldn't have survived the 1960s, much less live into his 60s, says you have a problem, you really have a problem!

Dolly Dirt

2008-07-23T09:36:00.003-05:00

With Hurricane Dolly now grinding into South Texas, this state has the distinction of being the sole recipient of hurricanes the past two years. We've had three the past three.
Forecasters years ago said the meteorological puppet masters could make us the new Florida, and perhaps they were right, although Dolly and Humberto last year weren't exactly Rita, Katrina, Wilma or Andrew.
I've posted a few web-related stuff to check when a storm rumbles into the Gulf, but I'll post it again today.
Here is a cam in Surfside to check out to see how big the waves are:
http://www.netsurfing.com/surfcam/index_orig.shtml
If you're catching this today, note how the water is up under a house over there to the left. Usually, you can see beach.
Another interesting thing to check out are the buoys bobbing around out there:
http://www.ndbc.noaa.gov/
Good ol' buoy No. 42035 shows what the waves are like just off the Southeast Texas coast. As of 9:40 today, they were 8.5 feet, meaning that if you were at the bottom of one, you'd see 17-foot-tall walls of water smashing down upon you.
Buoy No. 42020 is a lot closer to Dolly, and the waves are 22.3 feet, meaning almost 45 feet from bottom to top!
That poor buoy is getting one heck of a ride right now.

Timewaster Of The Week-July 21

2008-07-21T09:11:00.001-05:00

Hey, it's Monday, so why not end humanity?

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

In this game, you create and nurture a disease in an effort to wipe humankind.

You can pick virus, bacteria or parasite and give it a name.

Happy pandemicking!

Ted Poe Hilarity

2008-07-18T10:57:00.002-05:00

If you aren't one of the more than 5 million people who have seen this, check out Ted Poe gettin' his diatribe on in Congress:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-LOtKIIKcg

He's ragging on new light bulbs, which apparently can almost qualify a home as an EPA superfund site if they break.

He does have a point, though, although I'd rather see Congress focus its passions on gas prices, the economy and this war thing in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Have a nice weekend!

Things Learned On Vacation

2008-07-16T10:49:00.004-05:00

The family spent last week up in Virginia, where the weather is cooler and less humid and the terrain a bit hillier.
Here are a few things learned along the way:

Motley Crue Rocks
A brother-in-law dragged me and another brother-in-law to this thing called Crue Fest at Virginia Beach a couple of Sunday nights ago.
I've never been a big fan and went hoping the overall spectacle would justify the $45 tickets for the cheap spots on the hill of a Ford Park-sized amphitheater.
The foul weather didn't help. Lightning not only knocked out power to the inlaws' beach condo, it KILLED a young woman jogging nearby on the beach.
Nevertheless, we set out for the amphitheater. The clouds had cleared, and the place was packed.
Considering that Motley Crue peaked in the 1980s - musically, physically and decadently - I figured it would be a sparse crowd witnessing has-been hair metal.
Boy, was I wrong.
For starters, the huge crowd, which I figured numbered well over 10,000, was raunchy but playful. Unlike some of the hard-rock concerts I witnesses in the early 1980s, no one looked like they wanted to kill somebody - or actually killed somebody.
The opening acts - Sixx A.M., Papa Roach and Buckcherry - were entertaining, but it was nothing compared to sonic and visual punch of Motley Crue, which played along to synchronized flashpots, flames and various other explosions. And the music sounded great as well.
Our trio, clad in ponchos with the rain falling again, hopped around on the muddy hill like a bunch of 20-year-olds.
It was great.

Atlantic Versus Gulf
Atlantic - Brown sugar sand. Clear water. Much bigger waves. Crummy fishing, Steep dropoff. Tropical Storm Bertha aided the swells, providing excellent boogie-boarding conditions, although I got owned more than a few times, emerging from the froth to see the lifeguard standing up in his chair to see if I'd survived.
Gulf - Silty river-runoff sand. Hot and nasty during the summer. Warm, dirty bathwater. Smaller waves. Way better fishing. Slow dropoff. Only a storm in the Gulf will provide equal waves, although the riptide can be horrific.

The Kids Are More Fun
What a difference from last year to this at the beach. The boys, ages and 4 and 6, were a bit more self-sufficient, sometimes playing on their own (with supervision, of course) instead of relying on the adults for their total entertainment needs, although my 6-year-old was a bit too bold in the surf and, like his dad, got owned a few times. The boys also are less fearful of the sand crabs running around, although all of us got stung by the little jelly fish that aren't even in the ballpark of some of the dangerous monsters floating around in the Gulf.

Virginia Driving Is Different
I have a decent sense of direction, but something about driving around Virginia confuses me. Everything seems to go 'round and 'round, and the tall, view-blocking trees don't help. Also, U.S. 64 between Richmond, Norfolk and Virginia Beach can make Houston look like an empty parking lot, particularly on a holiday weekend such as the Fourth of July. Imagine 120 miles of stopped cars, sometimes in both directions.

Gas Prices
I found them to be up to 10 cents per gallon cheaper in Virginia. Why the heck is that? We're 6 feet from the freakin' refineries!

Air Travel
We flew out of Beaumont, spending more on the tickets but less on the parking, driving time and gas costs associated with leaving from Houston.
Continental baggage handlers mauled my new piece of luggage, ripping the handle down to one or two rivets. However, that's my tough luck. A Continental customer service representative in Richmond pointed to a sign indicating that the company was not responsible for busted bags. I resisted the urge to ask her whether she would set herself on fire if the sign indicated that she do so.
So basically they can put luggage in a kiln, hand you a box of dust and say it's not their problem. Seems kind of lame, but I do plan on writing a scathing review in the complaint form the Continental representative handed me.
On the return flight, I got to sit in Seat 1A and witnessed some things most passengers don't get to see, like this crazy exchange of notes and forms that take place between pilots, flight attendance and some guy in a bright orange vest going in and out. At one point, there was some scurrying, and I heard the pilot not a possible mechanical problem. A few minutes later, he told the vest guy that the problem "had straightened itself out."

I wish the same could be said for my luggage.

Timewaster Of The Week-July 14

2008-07-14T09:11:00.002-05:00

I just polished off a week's vacation in Virginia. I'll write more about that later.
Here's another one of those war games in which the players evolve:
http://www.freewebarcade.com/game/age-of-war/

Sweat List Is Bogus

2008-07-01T14:39:00.002-05:00

We recently did a story about all the lists that Beaumont makes. Usually, the lists are not favorable, such as us being a bad place to raise kids, pollution, being a "judicial hellhole," etc.
However, of all the lists we should be on, it's tough to believe we're not here:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25391565/from/ET/&GT1=43001
This lists the sweatiest U.S. cities. Houston and Baton Rouge are there. I figured we didn't make the cut because we're small and close to Houston, but Waco, which is the same size of Beaumont and as close to Dallas as we are to Houston, made the Top 25.
We're just as hot and maybe more humid than Houston, thanks to all the water bodies around here.
Phoenix is the No. 1 sweaty city. Sure, it gets up to 11 billion degrees there in the summer, but it has 0 percent humidity. San Francisco came in at No. 100, the least sweatiest city on the list.
Beaumont didn't make the list at all.
I guess that's OK, though. The tourism folks here have a challenging enough job as it is.

Country Fun

2008-06-25T17:03:00.003-05:00

The wife and I each were raised by old-school, old-fashioned conservative parents, and we are doing the same with our kids. That means being conservative on the ultrafiner things in life but liberal on the structure and discipline, in a loving, nurturing way, of course.
Sure, we let them watch DVDs and play on the computer, including games, but there isn't any of that stuff in the car. As kids, the wife and I looked out the window and used our imaginations, and our boys will have to do the same.
I try to get the boys interested in the simple things, such as wild-looking bugs, trips to the country store to get ice cream and making up our own fun. The boys on weekends and during the summer will not be sitting in front of the TV or computer screens like drooling zombies, getting fat on bad snacks and slipping into a world of high-tech disconnection from reality.
At the house, there are all sorts of implements of aquatic enjoyment, such as slippy slides, an inflatable ring that shoots water and this goofy blow-up dog that blasts water out of flapping ears, tongue and tail.
But my boys' favorite - aside from the makeshift water slide, which I'll get to in a minute - is the noble sprinkler. They loved the water nozzle with the multiple settings, but the puppy made quick work of that, so the sprinkler, also with multiple settings, has become the new favorite. The puppy is disinterested in it.
The nice part about the sprinkler is that it entertains and waters, and the boys are good about moving it around.
But the funnest of all backyard water fun came following a conversation with Curt, 6, who is mildly autistic but has an uncharacteristically wild imagination anyway. He tossed around the idea of burying the cheap plastic pool so we'd have an in-ground pool. He also suggested turning the concrete basketball court in our back yard into a spray park.
My idea of running a water hose to the giant yellow slide attached to the treehouse sent his brain a-whirlin'.
The next morning, he was on me at sunrise like a cockroach on a pork rind. I told him the water slide would have to wait until his cousins from Houston arrived for a family Father's Day celebration.
So I set up the slide that afternoon and wondered how slippery it would be. On the first trip down, Curt shot out the bottom and landed flat on his back in a growing mud puddle. He laughed, scrambled up the ladder and went again, only this time incorporating speed control. The water slide remained in use the rest of the day.
So this is how it is in the sticks. Sure, the new park down the street is nice. There are lots of DVDs and videos in the house, and computer games will get played.
But I know on Saturday morning, I'll crack open one eye at dawn to find a bouncing 6-year-old a couple of inches away from my face and excitedly asking when I'll set up the water slide.

Take Me Out To the Bawl Game

2008-06-19T09:06:00.004-05:00

This notes America's filthiest professional baseball parks:

http://www.portfolio.com/interactive-features/2008/05/Foul-Ballpark

You'd think Minute Maid Field in Houston would do a little better, but the Lastros/Disastros aren't helping much by stinking up the place lately.

Time To Bring Back The Train?

2008-06-18T11:11:00.003-05:00

Perhaps the time has come for America to rekindle its long-lost love for the noble train.
Imagine seeing America through the window of a train, as thousands of Americans did for so many years throughout our history. Imagine enjoying the experience as opposed to the hassles of air travel. Imagine not being cooped up in some compartment. Imagine spending less money and using less gasoline.
The Europeans got it right when it comes to trains. Passes for 15 days worth of travel range in price from $49 to $795, according to http://www.eurail.com/, with passengers able to travel all over Europe and to up to 20 countries.
These passes have existed since 1959, and their trains can run faster than 120 mph. There is high-speed rail all over Europe.
In the news business, we avoid using Wikipedia as a source, but according to this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High-speed_rail_in_the_United_States - high-speed rail development in the United States can be traced back to the 1930s.
However, today the Acela Express in the Northeast is the only high-speed rail service in America, operating between Washington, D.C., and Boston.
A map on the above link shows proposed highs-speed routes nationwide, include a route that runs out of Houston and presumably runs through Beaumont. If that comes to pass, I'd use the hell out of it, taking the train instead of the plane for our annual sojourns to Richmond, Va., home of my wife's family.
Opponents of high-speed rail say the costs of building the system outweigh the benefits. In one report I saw, from 1992, it was estimated that it would cost $18 million per mile. Obviously it would cost a lot more than that today.
There are a lot of pros and cons floating around out there. I'm just trying to generalize the topic at a time when high gas prices are making travel by car and aircraft more expensive.
I couldn't find any studies that detail how high gasoline prices would have to be before building a high-speed rail system can be justified, but I did find this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fuel_efficiency_in_transportation
Here, it shows fuel efficiency, and you get far more fuel bang for your buck with trains than you do with jets.
But even if we don't build a high-speed rail service, more of us should be using trains at a time when gas prices are soaring and airlines are hurting, passing their hurt on to consumers.
I did a quick check of http://www.amtrak.com
I found a couple of travel options that would cost half of what I'm paying this year to take the family to Virginia.
Sure, you have to change trains, and, yes, there's an overnight stay in some place like New Orleans (Bummer!).
But I would look at a train trip as more a part of the vacation adventure than I would just a means to get somewhere. Instead of arriving at the destination with a belly full of stress, we'd pull into a quaint station with a head full of fond memories.

Timewaster Of The Week-June 17

2008-06-17T17:06:00.000-05:00

Drop. Shoot. Kill.

http://www.vivalagames.com/play/canyonshooter/

Puppy Vs. Bunny

2008-06-11T11:15:00.003-05:00

The backyard bunnies added a sense of pastoral tranquility during the early days of Pinewood living about two years ago.
They'd come out along the back fence, wriggling their noses, cautiously moving about and keeping alert for threats from above.
Their appearance generated excitement in the household. The kids jumped up and down, and the wife stared at them with a faraway look in her eyes, finding some sense of peace in their presence.
Around fall 2006, just months after we moved in, the bunnies disappeared. We figured it was a seasonal thing, or perhaps an owl thing, but they never returned. We haven't seen them for about 18 months.
Yesterday, the wife called with the news 0f tragedy in the forest. Yes, a bunny had appeared, but our puppy, which we think is some kind of runt Rhodesian ridgeback, about the size of a small beagle, made quick work of it.
The dog, whom we named Jill after we acquired her a few months after our other puppy, Jack, escaped the back yard and got pancaked on State Highway 105, has been terrorizing and narrowly missing squirrels for the past few months.
It was only a matter of time before she made her first kill.
She made quick and painless work of the bunny, snapping its neck with an instinctive move. My wife saw her parading around the yard with the bunny and gnawing on its little bunny leg.
Considering my wife's love of the long-lost bunnies, I can't imagine how she felt seeing one of them go down in such a violent way, after all this hope that the critters would return.
Nevertheless, she knew what she had to do: dispose of the bunny body.
My advice to her was to take a shovel and just toss it over the back fence, where it would fall into the natural food chain.
The lifeless bunny and its lolling head proved to be a challenge, though, and the wife barely managed to get it over the fence. It lay just out of reach of a puppy that badly wanted her bunny back.
Jill, a supersmart dog with the sense of hearing and smell of a cinder block, went straight to the back fence this morning to see if the carcass remained.
I followed her out, and there was no trace of the bunny, not even a tooth, hair or eyeball. Something in the night had dragged it away.
I feel a sense of sadness that as long as we have a dog, those early, halcyon days of bunnydom will never return.
However, there is comfort in knowing that if something more sinister appears in the back yard, such as a venomous snake, that Jill will be on it like bunnies on lettuce.

Timewaster Of The Week-June 9

2008-06-09T16:29:00.001-05:00

Simple.

Tranquilize sheep that are making a break for it.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/sleep/sheep/reaction_version5.swf

Don't jump the guy. It'll cost ya!

Of Boys And Frogs

2008-06-06T13:34:00.004-05:00

My two boys last night brought home a frog from the new neighborhood park in Pinewood.
They smushed him down into an empty water bottle for transport. I'm not sure what kind of frog he was. He looked like one these:
http://www.zo.utexas.edu/research/txherps/frogs/smilisca.baudinii.html
I couldn't extract him from the water bottle by finger, so I used an X-acto knife to behead the bottle and retrieve the frog, which then sat happy and unafraid on my thumb.
The boys wanted to keep him overnight in their plastic bug box, but a lid malfunction made an escape a high probability.
Besides, it was dusk, and froggie needed to go outside and eat.
My youngest, 4-year-old Luke, broke down in tears upon being informed that the cute little bugger was better off outside, where he could get fat and happy on the ungodly amount of bugs that populate our porch after the sun goes down and the light goes on.
To smooth his ruffled feathers, I reached into my bag of boyhood stories and told him and his brother, Curt, 6, the one about the horny toad.
Every summer after I was just a little older than Curt, my dad and I would travel to Brady, which is almost the dead center of Texas, for the annual state muzzleloader championships.
On the first trip, somewhere far west of Austin, my dad pulled over, got out and used his cowboy hat to trap something on the roadside. It was a horned toad.
For the next week, I kept that toad in a Folgers coffee can out there in the unrelenting Central Texas sun. I fed him tomatoes and thought I was doing a great job as caretaker.
However, on the last day in Brady, heat and starvation claimed my toad. I cried half the way back to Houston, and we buried that toad along the road somewhere out there in the Hill Country. My dad tried to explain that the toad was just sick, but I knew better.
After I told my sad story, the boys agreed that the porch would be a better frog home. The porch already is a Woodstock for toads, huge ones that live under nearby rocks during the day and come out to feast on the insects. Some of these guys are almost the size of baseballs.
We put froggie on the wall next to the light, which we then turned on. About a half hour later, just before we put the boys to bed, we went out to check on the frog, which was still hanging out by the light and had a bug leg sticking out of his mouth.
This morning, we checked again, and froggie was gone, most likely co-habitating with those mac-daddy toadies under the rocks.
Hopefully, this lesson to the boys in setting things free - something I'll have to do with them in a dozen or so years - will save a reptile from meeting its fate at the bottom of a seething coffee can.

Office Meltdown Of The Century

2008-06-05T10:42:00.004-05:00

There should be some kind of prize for this sort of thing:

http://www.break.com/index/office-worker-goes-absolutely-insane.html

A different angle, with color and sound:

http://break.com/index/office-worker-meltdown-second-angle.html

I had to laugh at people getting in on the photo and video action, and then he gets tazed.

Of course, it could be a fake, but it's entertaining regardless.

Timewaster Of The Week-June 4

2008-06-04T09:32:00.001-05:00

Falling:

http://arcade.itch.com/games/falling-forever/

Not my favorite game ever, but it certainly cuts the mustard when it comes to wasting time!

Japanese Bug Fights!

2008-05-30T13:21:00.002-05:00

The first video is of a scorpion versus what I guess is a goliath beetle or something:

http://www.japanesebugfights.com/

There's a moderator, too, although it's all in Japanese. It doesn't matter, though, because it's the enthusiasm that counts. I was surprised to see how well a crawfish did against a big, menacing-looking beetle.

This might be better than watching a couple of UFC meatheads tear the stuffing out of each other.

Nuts-And-Bolts Weird Thing

2008-05-29T11:48:00.001-05:00

Just an odd little thing off the web.

I wonder the origin:

http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z219/Business6/1183918277338.gif

On The Strange End Of The Spamfest

2008-05-28T14:21:00.002-05:00

Seeing as I'm somewhere close to the center of the Beaumont Enterprise news universe, I probably get more than 100 e-mails a day at work.
If I go off for a week on vacation, it can take more than an hour to navigate through the e-mail minefield that awaits me on Monday morning.
My e-mail is easy to find. It goes out on more than 50,000 copies of the newspaper daily and is on our newspaper web site for all the world to see.
I get the usual spam, such as the lovely folks over in Nigeria, or wherever, who want to cut me in on some $2 bazillion inheritance . I get the usual male enhancement spam. I get the alarming ALERT ads from bogus banks. I get e-mailed news releases for things so far outside our coverage turf that it might as well be about Pluto.
But the ones that really leave me scratching my head look like this:

¼¤W¥«ªÑ²¼ªº¯SÂI:ªÑ¥»¤p. Äw½X¶°¤¤. °ª°tªÑ.°ª°t®§.¥i¥H±o¨ì«D±`Ã¬§QÂ×«pªº³ø¹S. ¢¯¢¸¢°¢·-¢°¢±¢¶-¢´¢µ¢µÂ²¥ý¥Í Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:08:39 +0200
¿Ô¸ß¼ö½u¡G¡§¢¯¢¸¢°¢·-¢°¢±¢¶-¢´¢µ¢µ¡¨Â²¥ý¥Í
ªA°È¶µ¥Ø:
¥¼¤W¥«ªÑ²¼¤½¥q¸ê®Æ³Æ¯Á
¿³ÂdªÑ²¼¤½¥q¸ê®Æ³Æ¯Á
°t¦X¤½¥q¨p¶Ò¡B¤jÃBªÑÅvÂàÅý¡B¤Þ¶iªk¤H³W¹º
°t¦X¦U¤j³Ð§ë¡B§ë¸ê¤½¥q»{ÁÊ¤½¥qªÑÅv
°t¦X¥¼¤W¥«³Ì§Cµ½á¨î°ÝÃD¬¢¸ß³W¹º¤Î¦U¥¼¤W¥«¿³Âd¬ÛÃöªk¥O¿Ô¸ßµ¥µ¥
¦p¦ó§Q¥Î¥¼¤W¥«¤½¥qªÑ²¼²¾Âàµ¹¤l¤k§KÃØ»Pµ
§Y®É¶R½æ½L³ø,¥þ¬ÙªA°È,²{ª÷¨ì©²¦¬°e§Y¨è½Ð¨Ó¹q¡K¡K
¿Ô¸ß¼ö½u¡G¡§¢¯¢¸¢°¢·-¢°¢±¢¶-¢´¢µ¢µ¡¨Â²¥ý¥Í
ºÃ¦¨¥ß¥xÆW³Ì¤j¥¼_¤W_¥«_ªÑ_²¼³ø»ù¿Ô¸ßªA°Èºô¸ô¥æ©ö¥¥x
Åwªï§ë¸ê¤H.³Ð§ë¤Î¤jªÑªF¡D¦@Á¸²±Á
Åwªï¨Ó¹q¡G¢¯¢¸¢´¢·-¢´¢µ¢¸-¢¯¢²¢´
(½ÐÂà±Hµ¹§AÌªºªB¤Í,¤]½Ð¹q¸Ü§iª¾§Aªº¿ËªB¦n¤Í,ÁÂÁÂ¡I)
¥t¼x±M·~±MÂ¾¥¼_¤W_¥«ªÑ²¼§ë¸ê¤H

What the heck is that? Why would anyone send that out? What's their game? Do they really think anyone knows what that is?
What's this? ¤
And this? §
And that? Å
It's as if some alien race is trying to make contact .
Who knows?
Perhaps some alien race on Pluto has made some killer male enhancement product they want humans to try.

Timewaster Of The Week-May 27

2008-05-27T10:47:00.003-05:00

It's always slow going after a three-day weekend, so maybe this gem of a timewaster will get those synapses firing:

http://www.freewebarcade.com/game/covert-front/

It's one of those point-and-click story games where you have to explore, find things, check out rooms and figure out how things work.

Once you're done with Part 1, you can move to Part 2. Part 3, I guess, is under construction.

Good luck!

Timewaster Of The Week-May 19

2008-05-19T11:02:00.003-05:00

With the holiday weekend coming up, here's your chance to practice in advance of getting your grill on:

http://www.flashgames247.com/play/871.html

It gets progressively harder to satisfy those hungry customers!

Not-So-Turbo Tax

2008-05-16T15:22:00.004-05:00

I just received this annoying little notice:

Dear Valued Customer,
We want to provide you with the most up–to–date information about the tax rebate to which you may be entitled.
Recently, you may have received a letter from the IRS advising you when to expect your Economic Stimulus Payment (rebate).
That IRS letter may have inadvertently left off some important information. Taxpayers who chose to have their tax preparation fees deducted from their federal tax refund will receive their tax rebate in the mail, not via direct deposit.
Our records show that you chose this payment option in TurboTax. As a result, the IRS has determined that you will receive your tax rebate in the mail. This may result in you receiving your rebate on a date later than expected.
This situation, while not unique to TurboTax, is understandably causing some concern and confusion. To help further clarify the situation, below is the most current IRS rebate payment processing schedule, as well as additional resources about the tax rebates.
I hope you find this information helpful. If you still have questions, the best source for the most up-to-date information is www.irs.gov (see the "Rebate Payment Questions" link).
Sincerely, Bob Meighan
Vice President, TurboTax Customer Advocacy

If the last two digits of your Social Security number are:
Payments will be mailed no later than:
00 – 09
May 16

10 – 18
May 23

19 – 25
May 30

26 – 38
June 6

39 – 51
June 13

52 – 63
June 20

64 – 75
June 27

76 – 87
July 4

88 – 99
July 11

Other sources for current information on the rebate program are.
http://www.irs.gov/newsroom/article/0,,id=182734,00.html
http://www.irs.gov/newsroom/article/0,,id=182735,00.html
For more information on TurboTax and rebates, please visit http://turbotax.intuit.com/support/kb/tax-content/tax-tips/6255.html

Now I know why I haven't gotten my rebate. At least I'm sooner than later on the schedule, but still ...

One Of Those Unexplainable Things

2008-05-15T14:31:00.003-05:00

The shimmy in my dad's old Chevrolet Blazer started ever so slightly perhaps yesterday or the day before. I'm not really sure when I had a gut feeling that something funny was afoot.
Like a medical malady that comes on slow, the Blazer's problem developed in a way that cheated the mind out of a sense of certainty.
The Blazer has never been a smooth ride. The engine rumbles, and it drives like chuck wagon. It's an old car that has seen a lot of miles and adventures.
The problem grew slightly worse as yesterday progressed, but certainty didn't come until the worst possible moment: with my two young boys in the car while heading home last night on the busy and dangerous Texas 105 between Beaumont and Sour Lake.
The ride grew rougher, as if the vehicle had cinder blocks for tires.
Traveling at the minimum speed limit, we made it home. I checked the back tires, which looked fine - but I hoped one would go flat overnight, quickly defining the problem.
I didn't have to wait long.
Within 30 minutes, the back driver's side tire went pancake flat.
This morning, after putting on the spare, I checked the bad tire. There were no noticeable nails, screws or other impalements.
I ran my finger along the tire, and something poked back, drawing blood. It was a strand off an inside belt. I then found two holes, hidden by flaps of rubber, that I could insert a finger into. The tire was coming apart from the inside, a very bad thing.
If you've ever had a sudden tire blowout, you understand what I mean. A few years ago, when Curt was a toddler and Luke was in his mommy's tummy, we were going 70 mph on a Houston freeway when the same back tire on my Nissan Pathfinder exploded with such force that it dislocated part of the bumper. That sickening here-we-go feeling ensued as the white-knuckle struggle began to control the vehicle and ease it off the highway. This is how SUVs flips in this situation.
Luckily, in the case of the Blazer, given to me last year after my father died, the tire didn't explode or even go a little flat while driving. How this happened is a mystery. Considering the tire's gaping holes, how did it manage to hold air long enough to make it home? There wasn't anything sharp to run over in the driveway at the last minute.
I'd like to think my dad, whom my kids call Pawpaw, extended a meaty hand from the heavens and held that damned tire together long enough to get the babies home.
It's an explanation that perhaps trumps one involving a terrible tire, with holes big enough to run a pencil through, managing to hold air for miles and then going flat in under 30 minutes while parked.
Who knows?