340 miles later...

...and we're ensconced in a Ramada Inn Limited in lovely Gainesville, Texas, with an internet connection that finally is working after two complaints to the front desk.

Unfortunately, I have nothing to say and no energy to say it.

Hope your weekend is a good one.

Random Thursday

Julie calls this a salon des refusés, which, roughly translated, means "garbage heap of a post." We heap; you decide.

Today's theme: You kids get off the lawn!

• Remember when the funny paper had comics that were actually funny? That's so 1950s, apparently. Strips nowadays must be socially relevant, if not downright educational, and a little pathos won't hurt. The newly introduced theme of For Better or Worse has a main character's father suffering a massive stroke. Funky Winkerbean has recurring themes around breast cancer, divorce, and alcoholism. I'm not saying that we shouldn't seek those humorous linings in life's inevitable dramatic clouds, but all things being equal, give me Zits (not literally, of course) or Baby Blues any day.


• OK, I admit that the comics issue is not a new one. No one did biting social satire better than Pogo's creator, Walt Kelly. Never heard of Pogo? You kids...get off the lawn!


• When's the last time you fired up your optical character recognition software? It's been at least two years and maybe longer since a client was unable to provide me with text in a digital format. I don't even have an OCR program that will work with OS X.


• I do find it interesting that the clients who tend to still rely on things like faxes are physicians who are otherwise engaged in state-of-the-art medical technology. I have one client who periodically asks me to post a scholarly article that he co-authored, and he invariably provides it to me via fax...which, of course, defies all known attempts to OCR. While I could re-type and format it for web display, racking up my exorbitant hourly fees in the process, I've avoided that temptation and have been able to track down an online version via the publication's web archive, saving the client money, and allowing me to avoid having to type sentences like "Coronary endothelial function testing with intracoronary infusion of graded doses of the endothelium-dependent vasodilator acetylcholine (10^–6 to 10^–4 mol/L) into the LAD was associated with a progressive decrease in coronary blood flow and paradoxical vasoconstriction of the LAD ultimately resulting in complete LAD occlusion, compatible with the presence of severe endothelial dysfunction of both the coronary microvasculature and the coronary macrovasculature (Figure 1)."


• Along these same lines, when's the last time you received a document on so-called legal-sized paper (11" x 14")? (Attorneys and paralegals are exempt from answering this.) I have a very nice HP flatbed scanner with a legal-sized bed -- at least, I think I still have it -- which hasn't been used in a couple of years. It's a good thing, too, since it doesn't have an OS X-compatible driver. Anyway, even my clients who are in the legal profession don't send me documents on legal-sized paper anymore.


• We were sitting in our favorite $tarbucks last night, visiting with friends, when Carole King's (You make me feel like a) Natural Woman began playing. All of us being of a certain age, we began reminiscing about the album (Tapestry) and our college days. About that time, a not-quite-20-something barista walked by our table and said "isn't that just the most amazing song?" We laughed, agreed, and replied "you realize that the song is much older than you, don't you?" She looked skeptical, but when we informed her that the album was released in 1971, she got that look that says (1) wait right here while I run and get the carbon-dating machine, and (2) old people are so cute.


• Never heard of Carole King? You kids...get off the lawn!

Next week: We'll discuss what it was like to carve our car wheels out of stone.

And, lo, it was good.

If Shaun and Ed were recumbent cyclists and wrote ride reports, verily, those reports might resemble this.

But, really, the Brits have a natural advantage when it comes to these things, as their names for places roll off the tongue (or into the eyes) much more funnily than our simple, no-nonsense appellations. (Not counting if you regularly ride through Old Dime Box or Earth.)

Tip o'the 1986 Kiwi helmet to Foo for finding this gem. As Foo wisely points out, however, only devotees of cycling and/or Monty Python will likely be amused. But, surely, that accounts for most of us, doesn't it?

Gazette Tagline Voting Update

With just a few days left for voting, the top two taglines are separated by only four votes, which is a bit surprising to me. "Fiery little bytes..." sprang into an early and apparently insurmountable lead, but "Leg crawling content..." has gotten some unexpected momentum over the past couple of days.

I'm pretty sure someone's stuffing the ballot box, having taken a cue from Jeff's exhortation to vote early and often, as the total number of votes far exceeds the Gazette's readership. But surely that's a mark of success for a blog, when people care enough to cheat.

If you haven't yet cast your vote, click here to do so.

Neighborhood Quiz

How well do you know your neighbors? I was interviewed today by a member of the Federal Investigative Services (US Office of Personnel Management) and found that I don't know squat about at least one of mine.

It seems that the person in question has applied for a position in the federal government that requires a background check, and a part of that check involves interviewing all the neighbors. The interview took about twenty minutes, during which time I came to feel like the most unsociable neighbor ever. Here's just a sample of the information about the person in question that I could not provide:

• Name
• Name of spouse
• Number and age of children
• Current occupation
• Exact time in current residence

There was much, much more. I'm pretty sure the neighbor isn't a member of a gang, but I couldn't comment as to susceptibility to blackmail, or feelings toward any specific foreign government.

I came closest to appearing non-comatose when I provided a physical description (approximate height and weight) based on the occasional spottings of family members in the front yard. I could have described their dog, but, sadly, that apparently wasn't of interest to our federal government.

At the end of the interview, however, I'm sure I redeemed myself by giving the investigator the names of a couple of other neighbors who I'm sure will know more than me. Well, I gave him their first names, anyway.

I couldn't remember their last names.

Virtual OR Showcases West Texas Tonight

A local physician will perform bypass surgery on a beating heart and the procedure will be broadcast live at 6:00 p.m. tonight on the OR Live website. Dr. Sudhir Srivastava has pioneered the technique, called Totally Endoscopic Coronary Artery Bypass (TECAB), using the da Vinci robotic surgical system. The minimally invasive technique avoids the use of a heart-lung machine, and recuperation from the surgery is vastly quicker and less painful than with conventional open heart operations.

The da Vinci robotic system at Alliance Hospital in Odessa is one of the jewels of the west Texas health care system, and the increasing number of physicians in our area who are using the system represent an important asset for the region. In addition to the cardio-pulmonary surgical techniques like TECAB and THORACAB (another minimally invasive procedure developed by Dr. Srivastava), the system is being used locally for operations such as prostatectomies with significantly less trauma to the patient.

If this sounds like a Chamber of Commerce commercial for our region, I suppose it is. Access to this kind of cutting edge (no pun intended) medical technology, state-of-the-art facilities to house it, and expert physicians to use it is an important step in diversifying our economy and improving the attractiveness of west Texas as a place to live and retire.

Technorati tags: da Vinci Robotic Surgical System | TECAB | Sudhir Srivastava

Bunk Sofa

Meet DOC, a sofa that transforms into a bunk bed in mere seconds.

Via swissmiss, by way of this completely unrelated post at CreativeTechs. But the Visual Thesaurus in the latter post is pretty cool, too.

Technorati tags: Sofa/Bunk Bed | Visual Thesaurus

A Kiwi in West Texas

I'm sure that at least some of the regular readers of the Gazette have been keeping up with Rachel's reports of her visit to Midland earlier this month, but in case you haven't, she's now uploaded the complete series and you can read them over at Precipitation: Day One | Day Two | Day Three

A couple of observations about her observations. First, it's interesting to see the reaction of someone from another country with respect to the daily details of your existence. Second, her accounts could serve as cautionary tales to anyone visiting us in the future who might be under the misimpression that we live exciting lives.

I might also mention a final irony. Rachel's blog is entitled Precipitation, and precipitation was the dominant weather theme for her visit to west Texas. It rained pretty much non-stop the last two days of her stay in Midland. The irony is that we haven't received any measurable rainfall since then. So, in closing, let me say to Rachel that while she's welcome for a return visit from New Zealand at any time, she's doubly welcome if she'll bring some of that rain back with her. ;-)

New Fort Davis Blog

I was pleased to make the virtual acquaintance of another Texas blogger this weekend, who posts as bunker_man to the appropriately titled Lone Star Bunker. I've blogrolled LSB under the West Texas category, because even though the proprietor currently lives in Austin, he has the clear head and good sense to make his way to Fort Davis where he's building an adobe-walled retirement home (hence the "bunker").

Pop over for a visit and check out his sighting of the ultimate west Texas SUV, spotted in Ozona.

Raising the Bar for Futility

We made a spur-of-the-moment trip to Fort Stockton yesterday with the goal of getting my father-in-law's computer woes addressed and getting him back online. We succeeded only in redefining the term "dismal failure."

His problems began a couple of months ago when the local ISP succeeded in bringing down email for the entire town for an extended period of time while they did...something? Who knows what? In any event, his email never came back on. So he decided to take matters into his own hands, having decided that perhaps it was his computer that was causing the problem. Unfortunately, his solution began -- and ended -- by inserting the system installation disk. By the time he did whatever he did, not only did his email continue not to work, but neither did anything else.

All of his files were gone, some of his applications no longer started up or worked, and his internet connection was completely inoperable. To compound the problem, the administrator password was somehow reset, making it impossible to change many system settings.

To my chagrin and embarrassment, in three hours of trying everything I could think of, I succeeded only in finding a few of the missing files (mainly photos) and confirming that his internet connection was operable, which I did by connecting my laptop. However, I never was able to establish an internet connection for his computer. The fact that his computer would not automatically detect and connect is troubling, but I don't know if it indicates a problem with his system (software OR hardware) or if it's a problem involving the ISP's configuration.

Oh, did I mention that his computer is a Mac?

Admitting that a Mac is broken beyond my ability to repair it is bad enough, but what's worse is that my father-in-law must now submit himself to the $70 minimum service call from the ISP, the representative of which will come out, look at his computer and say "oh, we don't know anything about Macs. Here's your bill."

I suppose the moral of this story is that regardless of the kind of computer you own, it is possible to break it. The one advantage a Windows user has over a Mac user is that there are a lot more people who have experience in fixing a broken PC.

Tagline Contest: Last Week to Vote!

Just a quick reminder that voting in the Gazette's tagline contest ends when September does. If you haven't yet cast your ballot, just click on the goofy looking gray box in the top portion of the right column on the front page. Or, you could just click here. (How's that for empowering voters?)

The Day's Good Deed

Abbye and I rescued a lost dog today, the cute little Sheltie shown below who goes by the name of Mollie.

We were nearing the end of our morning walk, just a block or so from home, when I spotted Mollie wandering toward us, looking a bit tentative. I didn't recognize her from the neighborhood, but I could see that she was wearing a collar and tag. She was obviously curious about Abbye, so I squatted down and whistled and she trotted right over. While she sniffed at Ab (and Ab sniffed back, at least in her general vicinity), I tried to make out the phone number scratched onto the immunization tag on her collar. Holding her collar and Abbye's leash with one hand, I dialed my cell phone with the other, and, of course, got a wrong number. I re-read the tag, redialed, and got an answering machine. At that point, I wasn't prepared to leave a message. I needed a plan, first.

We walked home, Abbye in tow and Mollie following along at a respectful pace. As we walked into the front yard, a car pulled up to the curb next door and my neighbor got out and began telling me how she'd locked herself out of her house, how her husband was out of town (isn't that how it always works?) and that she was waiting on the locksmith. I explained why I now had two dogs, and the two of us were able to coax Mollie into the backyard.

She seemed content with the situation, so I dialed the number again and left a message on the machine. Within twenty minutes, my call was returned, by Mollie's owner's mother. Forty-five minutes after that, the dog was reunited with her owner, a Hummer-driving young lady who expressed amazement that Mollie had wandered so far, so quickly. As it turned out, she'd gone missing just this morning, but was several miles from home, and had crossed at least two of the busiest thoroughfares in Midland -- probably during rush hour -- to get to our neighborhood. Someone was looking out for Miss Mollie.

The whole episode put a big kink in my morning plans, but I figure they weren't that important after all.

Abbye's still wondering what happened to her temporary playmate, though. Oh, and my neighbor did get back into her house; it took the locksmith all of ten seconds to pick the front door lock.

Week in Review: The Circus was in Town

Venezuelans must be so proud...

My apologies to those in the honorable profession of working clowns, scary as they may be.

Technorati tag: Hugo Chavez is a Clown

Demotivate Yourself

I've always admired those plucky realists over at Despair, Inc., purveyors of the finest in depression-era posters. And now, thanks to Patti over at White Pebble, I know how to roll my own, as it were.

Technorati tag: Despair, Inc.

Random Thursday

It's been a while since we've been able to squeeze in a Random Thursday post; I'm a little rusty, so please bear with me while I try to recapture my randomness.

• In the category of Strange Things To Do With A Helicopter, we find this epic beer-bottle opening battle between Japan and the USA. Could this be the next Olympic sport? [Hat tip to Jeremy Zawodny's linkblog]


• Remember cassette tapes? Yeah, I know; they were before your time. Right. Anyway, I'll bet you'd still like to immortalize yourself on one. [Hat tip to Frank Portman, aka Dr. Frank]

• I wanted to watch this video before I recommended it to you, but according to the good folks at MSN, I must first switch to either IE 6 (not available for Mac) or Firefox 1.5 (which I don't want). But, I'm sure it's a perfectly hilarious video.


• I see that dimunitive beauty queen/IRL racing star Danica Patrick has picked up yet another heavy-hitter sponsor: Go Daddy, the 800-pound gorilla of domain name registrars and purveyor of tacky Super Bowl TV ads. On its news release page, the domain registrar refers to Patrick as the "new Go Daddy Girl" and the release says that she will appear in an upcoming TV commercial. While the company refuses to speculate about the possibility of a Super Bowl ad starring Patrick, you just know that Bob Parsons, Go Daddy CEO and founder, is already picturing her in wet Nomex.

Okey-doke. I think that just about covers things in an entirely pointless fashion. Don't forget to vote in the Gazette's Tagline Contest.

DVD Review: "The Sentinel"

I reviewed the theatrical release of The Sentinel last April, and gave it pretty good marks. I thought it was a decent action movie with a good cast, and I was especially fascinated by the portrayal of the Secret Service, one of the few government agencies with either a flawless reputation or the ability to completely hide its shortcomings.

Thus, I was pleasantly surprised when I was contacted via email in early August by the marketing company M80, asking if I would be willing to review the DVD when it was released later that month. M80 had apparently been retained by 20th Century Fox to promote the DVD, and it was contacting "reputable influencers" (and at least one irreputable slacker) with the offer of a free disk in exchange for a review. After a few weeks, here's what arrived in the mail:

I watched the movie fairly soon after receiving the disk and noted nothing different or special about the DVD version (other than it refused to load in my Mac, which I found odd and annoying). But I figured that a review of a DVD was really supposed to focus on the special features, and, frankly, I didn't have time to watch them...until today. Again, I was pleasantly surprised. The disk has the usual marketing schtick -- trailers for the movie itself, plus those of pseudo-related films (Romancing the Stone and Jewel of the Nile, presumably due to Michael Douglas's presence); deleted scenes, including an alternate ending; director and screenwriter commentary; and a couple of "making the film" featurettes.

I didn't rewatch the movie with the commentary track turned on, but I did watch all the other special features. The deleted scenes combined with the director's commentary on why the scenes were shot and why they were deleted offered an interesting look into the moviemaking process. One scene didn't test well with a pre-release audience (it hurt one of the main character's "likability"); another had a background that looked fake (and it really did). The alternate ending would have definitely been an inferior choice compared to the one in the final version, but there was nothing "explosive" about it, despite the marketing hype on the website created to promote the DVD.

However, the best of the special features were the two short narratives about the Secret Service ("In The President's Shadow") and how the technical expertise of retired agents was used in the making of the movie ("The Secret Service: Building on a Tradition of Excellence"). Besides offering some historical perspective and a look at the responsibilities of the Service, they also offered up some interesting tidbits about the actors (for example, Eva Longoria proved to be a much better shot than either Michael Douglas or Kiefer Southerland, and a special team of younger, more fit agents were summoned to guard candidate George W. Bush due to his ability to run fast in the Texas heat).

If you enjoyed The Sentinel on the big screen, it will definitely make a worthy addition to your DVD collection, as the featurettes are both interesting and informative.

Technorati tags: The Sentinel | Secret Service

Not Seeing Things?

Some of the more perceptive among you may have noticed that something is missing from this blog, that being a post about you-know-whose involvement in you-know-who's you-know-what that will be released you-know-when.

While permission was sought and given for that post, sometimes permission is later withdrawn. I didn't ask why; life's too short to worry about stuff like that, and I suspect we've all been guilty at one time or another of mistrusting what we don't understand.

If this makes no sense to you, then you should feel free to continue to...oh, look! A baby squirrel...

Tagline Contest: Time to Vote!

Okey-dokey, the moment you've been waiting for has arrived. The poll is now open for voting for the Gazette's new tagline. [The details of the contest are here.]

The six entries in the poll were the top vote-getters from the esteemed Celebrity Panel of Judges, each of whom was selected for his or her unique qualifications, including superior intelligence, creativity, scholarliness, vocabulary, hygiene, and also the fact that they didn't bother to submit a proposed tagline so they're sure to be apathetic objective. Seriously, though, I'd like to thank the following folks for serving on the judging panel:

• Writer Deb Thompson, blogging from California via Write Lightning
• David Gerstman, aka Soccer Dad, weighing in from Maryland
• Midland Media Mogul Jeff McDonald who holds forth at ArchaeoTexture
• Patti Niehoff from the great state of Ohio, proprietress of White Pebble
• The mysterious FooRider who crafts Random Synaptic Misfires from his secret hideaway in north Texas
• The lovely and talented Phyllis, who represents the Gazette's vast and esteemed non-blogging readership

Knowing how much you guys dig stats, I thought I share these with you:

• 38 entries
• 20 contributors
  • 14 of whom are bloggers
  • 9 of whom live in Midland
  • 18 of whom live in the USA
• 4 entries were in Latin. Or something resembling Latin. Thankfully, none of them made the cut, as I have no idea how they'd really have translated.
• My lone tagline suggestion didn't make the cut.

Voting Guidelines and Other Semi-Official Stuff

• The poll will be up for a couple of weeks or so. You can click on the preceding link if you're ready now; if you want to take some time to consult a ouija board or your local guru, there'll be a link over at the top of the sidebar on the Gazette's home page. [I never could figure out how to embed the poll itself into this page. It can probably be done via framesets, but I abhor them.]
• Vote as often as the cookie allows.
• Everyone is eligible to vote, whether you submittted an entry or not.
• I cannot tell who votes for what. Really.

Thanks again to everyone who submitted an entry, and to those who thought up entries but decided they were lame and didn't submit them. And stay tuned for the results and -- someday -- the new layout!

Day-um, Dubya...

There's a scene in John Carpenter's 1988 sci-fi cult classic (a euphemism for a movie that's so bad, it's actually good) They Live in which the character played by that consummate thespian and pro wrassler Rowdy Roddy Piper confronts the mean aliens intent on subjugating humanity and announces his intentions: I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick a**. And I'm all out of bubblegum.

The US President's address to the UN General Assembly a few moments ago reminded me of that quote.

Mr. Bush made John Bolton look like a silver-tongued devil as he went through a murderer's row listing of primarily Islamic nations which foster, support, or otherwise allow themselves to be used to advance terrorism, including Iran, Syria, Sudan, and Hezbollah in Lebanon. He spoke directly to the citizens of each nation, going over the heads, as it were, of their leadership...making it clear that it was that leadership that was at fault.

He addressed directly Iran's nuclear plans -- OK, its nookular plans -- stating plainly that (a) we were OK with the country having nuclear power, and (b) a program to develop nuclear weapons would not be tolerated. It'll be interesting to see how the Iranian president reacts in his address to the same body later this evening. I look for a measured response full of goodwill and diplomatic reciprocity. I also think the Houston Texans will win the next Super Bowl.

Equally interesting was what the President didn't talk about. He didn't express confidence in the United Nations as a body which could or would be instrumental in spreading democracy and liberty, or in fighting terrorism. He also didn't mention those partners-in-lunacy, Hugo Chávez and Fidel Castro (a brilliant tactic, by the way, given Chavez's megalomania; he's got to be really torqued at the snub).

Couple of final, random observations:

• I wish the cameras had spent more time on the delegates during the speech. At one point early in the address, one of the delegates from Lebanon seemed to be giggling like a teenager immediately following Bush's mention of Hezbollah's hijacking of that nation for an unprovoked attack on Israel.


• Perhaps I've spent too much time reading the Bible (ha!), but the roll call of the nations (including complimentary comments directed toward the people of Afghanistan, Iraq, and the United Arab Emirates) struck me as being very similar to the accounts of Christ addressing the seven churches in the first couple of chapters of the book of Revelation, where the merits and shortcomings of each were detailed, and warnings (or rewards) were issued. I certainly don't believe that was intentional, or that the President or his speech writers would even recognize the similarity. Just sayin'...

Technorati tag: United Nations

Arrrrr.....

You did remember that today is Talk Like A Pirate Day, didn't you?

You can channel your inner Cap'n Jack Sparrow with this nifty little translator.

Update: Soccer Dad informs me via email that there once were Jewish pirates. Arrrrrry vey!

Technorati tag: Talk Like A Pirate Day

It was a dark and cacophonous night

I awoke Sunday morning in stages, as an increasingly urgent call raised me from the depths of sleep. It took a few seconds for the intruding stimulus to register: who is that laying on their car horn in front of our house?! The horn went on and on, until I grudgingly decided to investigate. Of course, as soon as I threw off the covers, it stopped.

Ah, probably some drunk who got turned around and thinks he's serenading his girlfriend, I thought. Or, perhaps, I dreamed. I crawled back in bed...and it started again.

This time, I hopped up a bit more energetically, pulled on a pair of pants and stumbled to the front door, where my father-in-law was peering out onto the driveway, casting a baleful eye at the culprit, his own '93 Chrysler Concorde.

"It's your car that's doing that?!"

"Yeah, it's gotten to where it does that every now and then."

"Oh, great. But you don't know what causes it?"

"Well, it's probably a short of some kind."

At that point the noise stopped. I remarked that if it went off again, we were going to have to do something (as I had just seen the beam of a neighbor's flashlight wash angrily across our drive); otherwise, we're going to have the whole neighborhood marching on us.

We closed the door to the silence, and I almost made it back to the bedroom before it started a third time. I ran into the garage, hit the door opener while grabbing a set of Channel Locks, sprinted to the driveway, popped the hood and disconnected the battery cable, thereby quieting the clamorous beast forever. Or at least until daylight.

Did I mention the barking dogs?

With things temporarily under control, I returned to bed, noting the time for my testimony in the upcoming trial -- 3:47 a.m. Sleep came back as grudgingly as I initially left it.

A few hours later, after breakfast, we reconnected the battery and pulled the fuse that controls the horn, radio amp, and cigarette lighter. My father-in-law will have to light up while listening to Rush in some other vehicle, at least until he gets the car to the shop to have the short fixed. We thought about disconnecting the horn, but have you looked under the hood of a car lately?

The good news is that none of my neighbors has left any threatening notes or phone calls, although I have an uneasy feeling about the dead goat hanging from the oak tree in the front yard. Ah, some drunk satanist probably got turned around and left it in the wrong place.

Media Behaving Badly

Last week, I did a mental double-take as I was watching an evening news broadcast on our local CBS affiliate. The story was a live report from the Permian Basin Fair in Odessa, and featured an interview with one of the fair's performers, a woman who had an aerial "daredevil" act.

After a couple of questions about the act and her reaction to the crowds at the fair, the interviewer then asked a rather odd question about her hotel accommodations, prefacing the question with something like "I know you're staying at the MCM Elegante, which is owned by the same company as our television station..." That presumably was the cue to let the audience know that we had now shifted from the news -- however soft it had been -- to a blatant commercial for the hotel, and, specifically, the comfort of its beds. It's impossible to know if the interviewee had been coached, but she immediately launched into a gushing endorsement of the accommodations, stating that her husband's back problems were completely nullified by the hotel's bed, etc.

At the time, I was taken aback, but chalked it up to the heat of the moment, a live interview in a relatively non-newsworthy setting. However, the scene was repeated during last night's 10:00 p.m. news broadcast, as a news report that was ostensibly about the world-famous Albuquerque Balloon Festival turned into another infomercial about the MCM hotel in that city, complete with in-room video tours and interviews with the hotel staff extolling the merits of their employer. The KOSA "reporter," Sam Conn, summed up the story by saying that "if you haven't stayed in the MCM, well, you just haven't stayed in a hotel." (Note to the MCM publicist: If you want to distinguish yourself from, say Hotel 6 or Comfort Inn, try keeping the boxy metal wall-mounted HVAC units in your rooms out of camera view.) After the story, the news anchor again issued a disclosure to the effect that both the MCM hotel and CBS-7 were owned by the same company, ICA Properties.

Now, I have no problem with ICA using its media ownership to tout its other assets. ICA president John Bushman already owns half of Odessa and has done his fair share of developing and enhancing the west Texas economy in ways that benefit many of its residents. The fact that the KOSA studios are housed in the Music City Mall (carrying through with the "MCM" theme) which is also owned by ICA should not imply any impropriety; I assume there's a legitimate arms-length business relationship that's mutually beneficial to both entities. On the other hand, when advertising of ICA businesses is seamlessly inserted into news broadcasts, with or without disclosure statements, a line has been crossed in a way that I find offensive.

In my own admittedly subjective scorekeeping, KOSA now has two strikes in this regard. Despite the fact that it otherwise presents one of the most informative and professional news broadcasts in the area, the third strike of this nature will prompt me to switch my news viewing to another station.

And that's the way it is.

Condolences to a Friend

Please stop by Wallace's place and leave a note of condolence for the passing of the Big Gold Dog, Tres, Wallace's companion for many years.

I have to think that Tres has one of those big ol' goofy grins that his breed is known for when they're having fun, and is chasing squirrels and rabbits to beat the band in his big open field that also goes by the name of heaven.

Battlefield Humor and Spiritual Warfare

Our speaker in last Sunday morning's worship services was Nabeeh Abbassi, the president of the Jordan Baptist Convention. He and his wife, Ruba (who founded and directs Arab Woman Today Ministries [AWT]) were in Midland as the guests of our pastor and his wife, who met and got acquainted with Ruba during a trans-Atlantic flight last year.

Nabeeh has been instrumental in a movement to bring evangelical Christian churches to Iraq, which has an estimated Christian population of about 800,000 in a country dominated -- in every significant way -- by Islam. He spoke briefly about the challenges of worshipping in a still-violent country, and did so with more than a little humor.

In fact, the biggest laugh of the morning came as he asked the congregation if they knew why there are no Wal-Marts in Iraq. After a brief pause, he answered his own question: "because there are Targets everywhere."

He then brought us back to earth with a not-so-rhetorical question borne out of the Iran hostage crisis from a couple of decades ago, a question that has as much if not more relevance today. Someone asked a group of church-goers if they were praying for the release of the Americans held hostage in Iran. Of course, the answer was a unanimous "yes." Then the question: are you also praying that the captors will come to know Christ and be welcomed into the kingdom of God?" Very few hands went up. "Well, I hate to tell you this," the speaker continued, "but you are more American than Christian."

As one who has from the start believed that Islamic terrorism has deep spiritual roots and must be fought not just on a physical level but also on a spiritual plane, the importance of the work of bringing the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ into these darks places cannot be overstated, and the issues transcend details like nationality and lines drawn on a map. In particular, ministry to Arab Muslim women offers the hope and liberty that Islam denies them.

If you'd like to provide financial support to AWT, you may do so via a tax-deductible gift to Christar (designate AWT as the recipient); if a tax-deduction isn't important, you may give directly to AWT via wire transfer.

Technorati tags: Arab Woman Today Ministries | Nabeeh & Ruba Abbassi

Midland: World Destination for Bloggers

Jim's whirlwind "Meet the US Bloggers Tour" blew through west Texas and it was a pleasure to meet the man behind Serotoninrain. Up to this point, he'd had Starbucks with Gwynne in Kansas City and barbecue-and-blues with Cowtown Pattie in Foat Wuth, but in Midland he had his work cut out for him as there were three bloggers anxious to get better acquainted with him.

He pulled up in a lean, mean, blogger-touring machine that we christened the Beige Bull:

This is the Ford Taurus that Jim's using to cause Budget Car Rental to rethink what it means by "unlimited mileage."

MLB and I hosted Jim for the evening, taking him for his first taste of asado puerco at Jorge's and then on to the newest Starbucks where we met up with Jeff for coffee, dessert, and a rather esoteric discussion of the Christian themes present in the LOTR trilogy. (Actually, they discussed and I listened; it's been too many years since I read the books.)

Afterward, back at home, we learned why Jim is such a good blogger:

Yes, once he hooked into our wifi, the remainder of our communication was via email and IM. ;-) But, no matter. He brought chocolate.

This morning, Jeff gave us the VIP tour of the KWES TV studios and then we drove downtown to get a similar tour of the Midland Reporter Telegram facility, hosted by Jimmy.

This was followed by a leisurely lunch at Jimmy's regular spot at The Italian Village, where the owner falls all over himself to make sure Jimmy's happy. It's a sight to behold. Anyway, here are the Three Amigos (l-r): Jeff, Jim, and Jimmy. I'm not in the photo because I lack the requisite number of j's in my name.

The most revealing bit of information to come out of lunch was the realization that we were all high school band members (yeah, like that's a big shock), although Jim got the award for cool assignments as he played a car battery-powered electric bass with his marching band.

Following lunch, Jim packed up, confirmed directions to Starbucks (one for the road) and headed west, to parts unknown. You'll have to look for clues on Serotoninrain to try to guess where he's going. Jimmy thinks he's headed for the Grand Canyon, but only time will tell.

Anyway, as I said at the beginning, it was fun to meet yet another blogger from many miles away. Jim's a great guy and I'm looking forward to his return trip with his family as they come back to visit Big Bend National Park. You are returning, right, Jim?

Despite the reel, Shakespeare was no fisherman

My vocabularistic skills were called into questionicity by certain commentatoristas in the previous posterific entry.

Specifically, some questioned the spelling of "bated" (as in "bated breath"), feeling, believing, or otherwise wishing the spelling to be "baited" (as in "baited hook"). One commenter did provide some helpful correction, and I figured I'd follow up with additional insight.

This comes from Garner's Modern American Usage, a book no writer, blogger, or student of the English language should fail to have close at hand:

The author goes on to say "baited breath is a bungle," and then quotes excerpts from a couple of well-respected newspapers in which the phrase is, well, bungled.

You may now disabate your breath and return to your regularly scheduled respiration.

Movie Quiz

Update: The answer is now shown at the bottom of this post.

For fame and acclaim, tell us what the following movies have in common:

• The Shining


• The Big Chill


• Die Another Day


• L.A. Story


• Back to the Future


• School of Rock


• Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace

I await with bated breath your answers.

Would it have helped if I had asked this question instead: "What do Jack Nicholson, Glenn Close, Pierce Brosnan, Sarah Jessica Parker, Michael J. Fox, Jack Black, and Natalie Portman have in common?"?

According to Jim, it should have, but it didn't; I trust you won't kick yourself as hard as he did upon hearing that the uniting factor is that they all appeared in the 1996 alien invasion spoof, "Mars Attacks." I've always been intrigued by that movie, in that it brought together an awesome amount of starpower (we could have also included Martin Short, Annette Bening, Rod Steiger, Pam Grier, Lukas Haas, Danny DeVito, and Tom Jones) and probably reaped the smallest return of any such gathering, with the possible exception of "Ocean's Twelve."

OK..step away from the keyboard...

I'm always slightly amused -- and more than a little bemused -- when I go a few days without posting and folks start emailing to see if there's a problem. Apparently, four days is the limit of allowable downtime, based on the fact that I've received more than one such email today. (Although, really, it hasn't been that long, as the Gazette's 9/11 memorial post was simply removed at the end of the day on Monday.)

OK, I admit to feeling flattered that anyone even notices, let alone cares whether anything new gets published in this space. I suppose I need to do a better job of announcing beforehand a lull in posting, but to be honest about it, I don't always plan those lulls. It seems like every couple of months or so, I hit a creative or motivational wall, and every idea I have for a post seems like dreck or I feel that someone -- everyone -- can write about it better than me.

Anyway, despite the fleeting thought that some of you might also need to take a break from the blogosphere every now and then, your caring inquiries seem to be just the right lever needed to break the chains of apathy, bringing back to life all the mixed metaphors and bad grammar that had lain fallow. I would apologize, but, really, it's your own fault. ;-)

The Project Report: Almost Finished

Against all odds and expectations borne of prior history, The Project has come together almost as if I knew what I was doing:

The angle from which this photo was taken was less than ideal, but perhaps you can visualize what's happening if I provide a few clues:

• The main storage area is the box with the expanded steel grating on each side and on the bottom.


• The shelf on the right side is just the right height and width to accommodate parking the lawn mower under it


• The rectangular u-shaped area on the left side is for storing lengths of lumber, shelving, a furniture dolly, etc.


• The top bar (near the ceiling) will eventually sprout metal hooks from which I'll hang various apparati such as the weed-eater, hedge trimmers, bow saw, etc.


• The left end of that top bar will accommodate the upright dolly. The one on the right end will have some other thing, as yet unknown, hanging from it.

The whole thing rolls about on casters. The top bar is also removable and breaks down for ease of storage, although I can't imagine why I'd ever need to do that (other than the fact that it's too tall to move out of the garage with the top bar in place).

I was particularly pleased (and surprised!) at how that top bar turned out, as it didn't look like this in the original plan. As with most of my projects, when it came time to actually put the plan into motion, some serious flaws became apparent. In this case, the need for better bracing and stability led me to the triangle seen on the left end, and believe me when I tell you that getting those angles anywhere close to right was an exercise in sheer luck.

The other amazing thing is that out of the 72' of tubing I began with, I ended up with only about 6', and that's in various bits and pieces, none of which is longer than about 18". Trust me when I tell you that's nothing short of a miracle.

All that's left is some detail work -- placing of various hooks and holders, perhaps some paint (but probably not...that's my least favorite thing to do). It's not a work of art, but it's a work that works, and I had fun doing it. I'm not sure how it could get much better than that.

Oops!

I've had an onslaught of comment spam in the past 24 hours, dealing with 150 or so bogus comments (note to self: now might be a good time to investigate upgrading your blogging package to something with a captcha routine). After noticing that almost all the spam was linked to either Belgian or dot-info domains, I temporarily added .be and .info to my blacklist, and proceeded to delete all recent comments with those domains.

Unfortunately, my goofball blacklist plugin misunderstood my intention of banning .info and .be URLs and instead flagged for deletion any comment with either of those strings in the text...including my own comments because they were accompanied by my email address which, of course, begins with "info."

While I finally got a clue before doing major damage, I fear that I've inadvertently deleted up to 50 recent comments via this boneheaded move. If yours was among them, I apologize.

On the bright side, having to use "oops" in this context is much preferred to using it in another...as, say, a neurosurgeon in the operating arena.

DLAM: Admit it, you know you want to

DLAM*: Dress Like A Mac.

Because being too cool is being just cool enough, and dressing cool is a great substitute for being cool. Or something.

Tip of the cap...oh, wait -- there is no cap. Rats. There goes my ensemblé. Anyway, thanks, Cult of Mac.

*This is, however, distressingly close to "Dress Like A Mac Enthusiast" or "D-LAME." Just figured I'd throw that out before you did.

BP Blames Bacteria for Big Boo Boo

Besides being a great name for a band, "Bacteria Poop" is now the semi-official excuse being put forth by oil company officials for the thinning walls of the Prudhoe Bay (Alaska) crude oil gathering system pipelines.

In a Wall Street Journal report on yesterday's Congressional grilling of BP, Plc. officials, the poop theory was floated in front of a righteously hostile group of lawmakers:

The irony is that those oil-eating bacteria were introduced as a way to make the oilfield operations more environmentally friendly*. Once again, the Law of Unintended Consequences rears its ugly but reliable head to bite the needlessly careless on their sensitive parts.

BP's not exactly at the top of my Most Favored list at the moment. We own far too much of its stock to find any humor in its Keystone Kop-ish descent from what was once an fine example of a well-managed, properly British corporation. There's probably not much that I'd normally find in common with a Democrat congresswoman, but I have to agree with Rep. DeGette in one area:

This was a rather slick dig at BP for its "Beyond Petroleum" marketing campaign, which in itself is a stroke of genius -- but only if the company actually has the chops to rock it. It's becoming increasingly evident that it doesn't.

*Update: I don't mean to leave the impression that all such bacteria are intentionally introduced into oilfield operations. Some is naturally occurring. Here's an article that explains a bit more about the science behind this issue.

Technorati tags: BP, Plc. | Bacteria Poop

Call me on my rhumba numba

You know those people with the fancy schmancy cell phones and the obnoxious ringtones that play entire songs and annoy you to no end but they think they're really cool? You know -- those people, um, like me:

G'head, give a listen. It's just 62kb.

I've never before had a phone with Bluetooth and MP3 capabilities and when MLB and I got new RAZRs a couple of weeks ago, it set me off on a path that will eventually lead me straight to perdition, but the journey surely is fun.

I used iTunes to snip a section of music from one of our dance numbers ("Sway," by The Pussycat Dolls), which was a bit more complicated than usual since it was in Protected AAC format (purchased from the iTunes Music Store) and I had to get around the DRM protection. I then moved the MP3 over to the phone via Bluetooth and assigned it to my wife's mobile number so I'll be able to quickly recognize her call, not to mention aggravate everyone around me.

But, lest those put-upon souls become too exercised over the ringtone, they should be forewarned: it could get worse. I have a rhumba and I know how to use it.

The one thing I wish I'd done is edit the clip to fade it at the end, not that I plan on ever letting it run that long...

Random Thursday

Let's put a technical spin on this week's edition of Random Thursday, shall we?

• Apple's "press event" slated for September 12 has created a huge buzz over the possibility that it will roll out a studio-to-set-top integrated solution for delivering digital video content. Translation? Streaming movies from the iTunes Music Store directly to your television or monitor...or revamped widescreen iPod. This could be the first move in an inevitable process that will do for full-length movies what iTunes and the iPod did for music.


• More from the wacky world of Apple - Jon Gruber, proprietor of Daring Fireball, has issued a challenge in response to an alleged security weakness in the new laptops: "hijack my new MacBook and it's yours." There's method in his apparent madness, but thus far, no takers.


• Joi Ito previews the mylo, a very small, very cool wifi digital-media thingamajig set to be released by Sony on September 15 and which may or may not be running Linux, is definitely running Opera, and probably won't be available outside of Japan, but you can pre-order it via Amazon, so who knows?


• Via Schneier on Security, this website that allows you to test your bomb-recognition acumen.


• While Apple may be conquering the known media universe, Google is laying claim to everything else, including your company's next intranet.


• And, finally, "tech" shouldn't necessarily imply "high tech," and some of our favorite things might be referred to as "retro-tech." Take mopeds, for example.

Geek out.

Quality Linkage

Honestly, I have no idea why you're here, when you could be ingesting quality bloggage such as:

• Julie's account of her brush with invisibility;


• Bret's double-play about contemplating and preparing for the eternal;


• mis_nomer's articulation of our universal yearning for an undo keystroke for life;


• Jennifer's vision of her neighborhood through God's eyes.

Good stuff, all of these, and plenty of justification for the existence of the blogosphere.

Support a fellow blogger's appeal for refugee status

Update: Isaac emailed to correct something I wrote below. The appointment this week set the date for the hearing that will decide his status. Sorry for the misunderstanding, but that means he has more time to prepare his case. Prayers still needed...that doesn't change.

Isaac Schrödinger's blog masthead says it all: "pakistani-born - ex-muslim - refugee-claimant - pro-usa, and he's backed it up over the years via a prodigious number of posts. He has applied to Canada for refugee status and will be presenting his case before a tribunal of judges later this week.

Why does he feel the need for refugee status? This post details some of the examples of how "apostates" are treated by their Muslim countrymen in Pakistan. And this Reuters news article documents the findings of an independent Pakistani commission showing how religious intolerance toward non-Muslims in that country continues to grow.

I'm not sure what's at stake for Isaac should the hearing not go well, but I'd ask you to join with me in praying that we don't have to find that out. I'm sure Isaac would appreciate knowing of your support for him in this very important hearing.

Book Review: "The Medici Giraffe"

The Medici Giraffe [And Other Tales of Exotic Animals and Power], authored by Marina Belozerskaya and released a few weeks ago, is a wolf in sheep's clothing. It's billed as a primer about the role animals have played throughout the ages in the rise and fall of political fortunes and even civilizations, but it's really a history book that uses exotic birds and mammals as hooks to get the reader engaged in business to which he or she would never otherwise give a second thought.

Each of the seven stories deals with a specific period of history and a discrete set of characters -- beginning with Alexander's quest 300 years before the birth of Christ to acquire elephants to cement his war strategy and ending with publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst's acquisition of more exotic animals for his San Simeon estate than most zoos of the time could boast -- and each does have its fair share of animal-related plotlines. But with few exceptions, the animals are peripheral to the main stories.

That's not meant as a criticism, however. Belozerskaya has created a well-researched and beautifully written history book that will both educate and entertain the most finicky reader. The accounts are liberally laced with the kinds of details that bring history to life. For example, here's how the author describes Josephine Bonaparte, Napoleon's wife, a woman who built an impressive collection of exotic animals and who is credited with introducing Australian black swans to Europe:

Other historical events in the book include general Pompey's ill-fated attempt to ascend to the head of the Roman empire, Cortés's conquest of the Aztec realm, the political intrigues of 15th century Italy as seen in the life of the Medici patriarch Lorenzo (the tale from which comes the book's title), the 16th century machinations of King Rudolf II, and a fascinating epilogue documenting the "Panda Diplomacy" that occurred -- and which is still ongoing -- between China and the USA.

The book's premise -- that wild and unique animals have been used throughout the ages as effective tools in diplomacy, conquest, and political intrigue -- is shaky, and is sometimes imbued with more significance than the facts seem to warrant. But if books with historical themes seem like unpleasant medicine to you, this premise will be just the right sweetness to make The Medici Giraffe go down pleasantly, and you'll be surprised at the enjoyable results.

Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided to me by the good folk at Hachette Book USA.

Blind Faith, Part 2

Part 1 may be found here

When I'm leading Abbye on her walks through the neighborhood, we'll often be assaulted by the sounds of dogs barking and growling, concealed and contained within backyard fences. Sometimes the dogs have knotholes or missing slats to peer through, but more often they're reacting to scent and sound. And I'm occasionally saddened to contemplate that Abbye can no longer enjoy what I'm guessing is a pleasurable canine activity.

However, it also occurs to me that in a very important and real way, Abbye actually has more freedom than any of those other dogs. She may be following blindly, tethered to a guide, but she's moving forward, unlike those others who are confined to open but very small spaces. Their reality essentially stops at the fence line.

The basic human condition is similar. We're all imprisoned to some extent by our bad decisions and the pride that leads to a refusal to accept guidance from our Maker. Those things form a wall, a barrier, that prevents us from perceiving and experiencing the freedom that God wants us to have.

The spiritual "leash" that connects us to God is, in fact, our ticket to an amazing and comfortable degree of freedom. The fact that some who read this will deem it completely counterintuitive and illogical actually reinforces its truth.

I once read a post on an otherwise long-forgotten blog about the excitement the writer was feeling over an upcoming appointment with his newly discovered "soulmate." The romantic event was a joint exam to confirm that neither of them had STDs; if the tests proved negative, they could remove another barrier, so to speak, in their relationship. This is simply one example of the way we've perverted the definition of freedom, preferring to make it up as we go along rather than admit that God may have actually known what He was doing when He created that "leash" of laws that serve to shield us from our own self-destructive tendencies.

The moral of the story? I'm not wise enough to give a final answer, but one thing that occurs to me is that our definition of freedom is infinitely more limiting than God's.

Labor Day Weekend Meme: At This Very Moment

Two memes within one week should not be considered a trend, but my other Kiwi blogger pal, Catez over at Allthings2all, tagged me for this one and since there's still a few hours left in the Labor Day weekend I figured, why not?

At this very moment...

1. Are you craving anything and if so, what?

Having just finished a dinner consisting of pot stickers (pork), crunchy rolls (with plenty of wasabi) and spring rolls, followed by a big ol' piece of turtle cake topped with Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla, I'd have to say that all I'm craving is an easy chair and some elastic-waisted sweat pants.

2. What is the weather outside, and do you wish it would change?

It's been raining steadily for at least 18 hours and I wouldn't change a thing. (You just have to live in the desert to understand.) Man, but it's sweet, even if you have to deal with a dog who equates falling rain with 50-cal. tracers aimed at a target attached to her rearend.

3. What two websites do you think you will go to next after you are finished here?

Both of them are client sites, because I've been putting off the updates they emailed me earlier in the weekend. I'm running out of excuses.

4. Do you wish you were somewhere else and if so, where?

I'd like to be biking the trail that runs from Frisco, Colorado, to Vail, on our recumbent tandem with my wife in the back. And as long as I'm wishing, I'd then wish for someone to come to Vail and ferry us back to Frisco, because I'm not sure I could survive pedaling the return trip.

5. Do you wish you were someone else, and if so, who?

Well, this is an interesting question, and I'm not sure many people really think through the implications of their answers. And I'd really need some better groundrules before committing to anything. For example, if I became someone else, would I still be me? I mean, what's the point of becoming, say, Hillary Clinton, if you had to actually become Hillary Clinton, you know? It would be much more fun if you could become Hillary Clinton, but still be yourself -- you know, a sane person with reasonable ideas, for example -- and in the position of being able to wreak some serious havoc on an entire political party. Now that would be cool.

Otherwise, I guess I'd like to be the AFLAC duck.

I think I'm supposed to tag a few folks for this, but since we're just about out of Labor Day, I'll take the weasly way out and just say that if you want to carry it on, feel free to do so.

AFLAC.

More...you know...

I'm pretty sure that when I was in high school band, we didn't have a cowbell*, and I'm positive we didn't have a designated hand clapper.

However, every high school xylophone player I've ever known looked like the guy in the background. I think they have a union or something.

*And let me state for the record that I'd much rather have a thousand cowbells on the field than one of them wielded from the row directly behind me.

Kiwi in Paradise: The Wrap-up

Whew! It was a whirlwind of a weekend, and if everything went according to plan, Rachel is now on her way back to New Zealand, by way of Dallas and then Los Angeles.

Yesterday arrived in cool and drizzly fashion and proceeded according to plan, with her attendance at church and Bible study with us in the morning, where she was doted over by many people saying "g'day mate" in Texas accent, much to her well-concealed annoyance. (Seems a lot of folks around here are geographically challenged and lump NZ in with Australia, which doesn't sit too will with Kiwis. Can't say as I blame 'em, either.) We had a very nice brunch with our friends Tommy and Toni at the Café at the Gardens, where the Labor Day weekend crowd was sparse, meaning that we had the peel-and-eat shrimp pretty much all to ourselves.

We had a couple of hours of down time, then we drove out to Tommy and Toni's place to (1) look at the airplane that we never got to fly in (Rachel did get to sit in it, which I'm sure was a big thrill) and (2) grill and eat hot dogs and burgers and then sit around sharing interminable skiing, cross-country and snowshoeing tales. To her credit, Rachel never once fell asleep from sheer boredom.

Sometime during the night, the drizzle turned to steady rain and it hasn't quit, even to this moment. Any ideas Rachel had about experiencing a desert environment were lost the minute she entered Midland airspace, as we've just come out of the wettest August on record and may be on pace for the wettest and coolest September.

Anyway, thanks to the nasty weather we were once again forced to seek our entertainment indoors, and we did so via a trip to the Petroleum Museum and then back to Barnes & Noble where Rachel bought a book recommended by MLB for the return trip. In fact, the two of them learned that they shared a fondness for mysteries and my wife was able to point Rachel to a number of authors she hadn't previously encountered. It was then time to return to the airport to begin the loooong journey home (Rach was relieved to confirm that her bags would be checked all the way through to Auckland).

Earlier today, I asked her if whatever expectations she had in coming to Midland had been met, and she said that she really had no expectations. I'm not sure I entirely believe her, and I guess we'll hear the real story via her blog after she returns and gets settled back into a routine. Regardless, we enjoyed introducing her to our state, city, and way of life, and found -- once more -- that there's a lot more that people have in common than we often think...

...even if the water in their toilets goes the other direction when flushed, and their light switches flip down for "on."

Update: Oh, I almost forgot. Rachel couldn't resist logging on today to check email and a few blogs, and she read all of your nice welcoming comments; she was quite appreciative.

G'day mate, and rest in peace

"Shocked" is the only description of our reaction to the news this morning that Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin was killed in a diving accident off the coast of Australia.

When I first saw the new snippet on TV, I missed the details of the accident; I assumed that he'd experienced an equipment malfunction or perhaps was hit by a boat. Never in a million years would have I guessed the true cause of his demise: a stingray barb through the heart.

My wife and I have dived with many stingrays throughout the Caribbean; we've been around folks who have been stung by them (usually after stepping on one buried in shallow sand while wading along the shoreline). We've never felt the slightest bit of fear or trepidation, and have never heard of anything more serious than a painful sting. We always assumed that the worse case scenario would be an allergic reaction, like some people have to bee stings.

Now, granted, this probably was not one of your run-of-the-mill small Caribbean rays. I haven't seen details on the size of the ray, but anything strong enough to pierce a man's sternum like that must be huge and strong...as you would expect from an Australian variant of just about any fearsome creature. Still, this is the stuff of sci-fi/horror movies.

Irwin was only 44, and leaves behind a family. I'm sure that neither he nor they could have imagined such a parting.

Kiwi in Paradise: Day Two

We had a full day of activities for Rachel, although flexibility was the watchword. The weather this morning was threatening and so we had to cancel our aerial tour (we might give it another try Monday morning). But Plan B worked pretty well, including:

• An hour at the shooting range, where Rach got her first lesson in firing a handgun. Did pretty darn well, too. Don't be surprised if she shows up in Auckland with a t-shirt that reads "Ask me about my target."


• After leaving the range we drove to a drilling rig where she got some photos. She also got to see and photograph her first live tumbleweed, and probably heard for the first time in her life these words: "I'm pretty sure the rattlesnakes aren't moving around now, but watch your step, just in case."


• This is the official opening weekend for high school football in Texas, so we headed for Grande Communications Stadium to watch Midland High School whup up on North Crowley (which I think is somewhere in the Metroplex, but don't hold me to that). Rachel had never seen an American football game, but being very familiar with New Zealand rugby (go All Blacks!), she quickly grokked the strategy of the game. [Many thanks to Lee and Jenny for the use of their season tickets while they were out of town!]


• After a late lunch at a local deli, we did a little shopping. I'll let Rachel tell you what she bought, but I can share that the local economy was quite pleased with her involvement. We did drive to the outskirts of Odessa, to Pee Wee Dalton's Emporium of Cowboy Duds, where she got to visit with Pee Wee himself. And he, too, was smiling when she left.


• Now, here's where it gets weird. We had our regular dance class tonight, and I figured she'd want to watch TV or rest or do something besides what she did, which was to come and observe the class. Talk about pressure!


• Afterward, we went to Abuelo's for Mexican food, and then to Barnes & Noble for dessert.

On the schedule for tomorrow: church, brunch, bronc busting, and goat roping. Or, at least, two of the four. Not saying which two...after all, flexibility is the watchword around here.

Wallace in Wonderland

Now, you could jump over to Streams and get Wallace's take on what he was doing on the sidelines at today's Midland High School football game...

...or you could take a look at the following photo and visualize what I mean when I tell Wallace that the action he should be interested in is on the field in the form of the football players and not on the sidelines in the form of the cheerleaders.*

Wallace, you just never know who's watching...and who has a 200mm zoom lens! ;-)

*OK, this is a bit misleading, I'll admit. I never saw him so much as glance at the cheerleaders. He was too busy trying to schmooze with Jay Hendricks.

The Kiwi Connection

I mentioned a special visitor in the previous post, and she arrived on schedule this afternoon. "She," in this case, is the lovely young Rachel, who blogs over at Precipitation and who is making her first ever trip to the States from her home country of New Zealand.

I'm not sure what the local Chamber of Commerce would make of the fact that she chose two primary destinations for this trip: Los Angeles and Midland.

Anyway, MLB and I picked her up at the airport around 5:00, got her checked into her hotel (and watching the young ladies behind the counter try to figure out how to enter a New Zealand address and phone number into the computer system was a hoot), and then we headed out for barbecue (K.D.'s, for the locals who care about such things). Yep, nothing like a big honkin' slab of meat slapped on a sheet of butcher paper to welcome an international guest. I think she enjoyed the meal (I'm sure she'll have her own report up when she returns -- we were joking with each other about who'd get to blog first about this stuff), although I never could convince her that the jalapeños weren't that hot.

Afterwards, we went to our house so she could meet Abbye -- they were quite taken with one another, Rachel being a dog-person and Abbye being a dog-person-dog, if that makes sense -- and we chatted about plans for the weekend, life in New Zealand, and how none of us could do metric/english conversions in our heads.

Some of our plans are tentative due to the uncertain weather: the airplane tour, the trip to the shooting range, the high school football game. I hope some of that stuff works out, because, frankly, we're really pretty boring people when you get right down to it, and I'm sure Rachel will be wishing she'd signed on for one more day at Disneyland if our company is the best Midland has to offer.

We'll let you know how things unfold. Then, in a few days, you can get the real story over at Precipitation.

Let's Talk Weather!

First of all...am I the only one who sees irony in the fact that Ernesto is whacking the east coast while John slams Baja California? Wouldn't it be more appropriate to switch them, or at least make it Ernest and Juan?

OK, I guess I am the only one.

Anyway, thanks to John/Juan's extended reach, Midland closed out the month with the highest rainfall total for August in recorded history, and we're now more than 2" above the year-to-date average, which is huge for this part of the country.

The weather guys are telling us that the Pacific storm is bringing moist air all the way through Mexico and up into west Texas and that's why we're getting the rains. That's the one import from our southern neighbors that you won't hear much complaining about (unless you live in the flooded parts of El Paso).

Unfortunately, the August rains came a little too late for most of the cotton crop, but it should set up the fall pastures for good grazing.

The downside of all this nice wet weather is that it's likely to cause us to cancel an aerial tour of parts of west Texas tomorrow. A special visitor is arriving this afternoon, and she's looking forward to that tour...I hate to disappoint her, but safety is paramount.

The visitor? Well, more about that, later.

Tagline Contest: The Next Step

The "Give the Gazette a Tagline" contest is now closed to new entries and we enter the next step in the interminable process of choosing a winner. We'll submit the thirty-plus entries to our esteemed panel of celebrity judges and they will score each suggestion using a complicated series of criteria that makes the BCS computations seem like a kindergarten paste-eating exercise. The entries that emerge from this step as the highest ranked will then be voted on by Gazette readers, and the top vote-getter will be added to the new design, when it's finally rolled out.*

Many thanks to all who submitted suggestions -- even those whose ideas took a form so obscure that I don't have a clue as to what they really mean.

And, in the immortal words of Hillie...stay tuned!

*The timing for this is likely to coincide with Mel's keynote speech at an ADL national convention.