Midland (& the Gazette!) Represented in Destination Imagination Finals

I've just learned that Midland was represented by not one but two teams of kids at this year's Destination ImagiNation® Global Finals in Knoxville, Tennessee. If you're going "huh?" about right now, join the club; I knew nothing about this event until a Gazette reader (and parental unit of one of the participants) emailed me about it.

According to its website, Destination ImagiNation® is a popular process-based program helping young people build lifelong skills in creative and critical thinking, teamwork, time management and problem solving. Up to seven participants work together as a team for eight to twelve weeks to create their unique solution to a Team Challenge, which can have a focus that is theatrical, structural, improvisational, scientific or technical - or a blend of several disciplines. Over 200,000 students in over 56 countries and the United States participate in the program.

The Global Finals are exactly what the name implies: the winners of the local competitions around the world gather in one venue to compete for fame and glory. Eight thousand kids gathered in Knoxville for this year's finals. The Midland teams represented our fair city in superb fashion, with the 8th Grade team finishing in 8th place, and the 5th grade team finishing 15th. According to my source (we'll refer to her as "Cindy," since, well, that's her name), Midland has been participating in the DI program for only 3 years and this year for the first time made it to Globals with 2 teams. The 8th grade team has been together for all 3 years.

Below is a photo of the 8th grade team's "costume" they designed for the "Out of the Box Costume Ball." (They're a puzzle. Can you solve it?)

That's pretty cool, but here's the best one: a genuine Fire Ant Gazette sighting:

[Sensitivity to online privacy concerns keeps me from publishing the name of the girl holding the shirt, but she's obviously above average in every respect, and especially in her fashion choices. Her nail color even matches the shirt's lettering! Bet you'd like to buy a black Gazette t-shirt yourself, wouldn't you?]

Congratulations to the Midland teams for representing us so well!

Random Thursday: Link Love Edition

This week's edition of RT focuses on what's going on in other corners of the 'sphere.

• Patti is recovering nicely from her tussle with the Big C, but is struggling with how to talk to others about it. She's also being blocked by China (as is the Gazette).


• Nic is now providing English translations of his posts, apparently succumbing to pressure from the LUV (League of United Vowels), the members of which seem to believe they're underrepresented in the Welsh language. Besides being able to actually understand what he's writing about, I now know the Welsh counterparts for "website" (gwefan), "name" (enw), and "email" (ebost), so I've got that going for me.


• Jimmy hated POTC:AWE, believing it to be boring and overly long. As a baseball fan, he's eminently qualified to recognize those characteristics. <rimshot>


• Bob and Cherie have new puppies, Rascal and Trixie. And Jennifer's new pup, Britta, is now attending class. *sigh* They grow up so fast, don't they?


• The Thinklings have an active discussion in progress regarding the Scriptural implications of debt. As someone who's contemplating a new home and concomitant mortgage, this has personal relevance.


• Kevin Whited over at blogHOUSTON provides a link to a transcript of a hilarious exchange between a telemarketer and a skeptical customer (scroll down to the section heading, "Call Me"). This is a picture perfect example of how to deal with this situation. It also demonstrates that it's not a good idea for some people to try to sell iceboxes to Eskimos.

In closing, allow me to direct your attention to the library-cum-kitchen of the ever-scintillating Bakerina, who has a wide ranging post about a lot of things which may or may not mesh with your immediate interests, but which includes a rapturous denouement involving a jelly cake made with white peaches. Please cover your keyboard before reading the recipe and viewing the photo. I cannot be held responsible for damage from drooling.

Evocative Artwork

There's something about this guy's work that's quite calming. Even this one, which puts a whimsical spin on one end-of-life scenario.

Update: This is apparently a recurring theme.

The artist is Shawn Bonsky and I ran across a sample of his painting on his Gawker Artists page.

[After all these years, I just realized that I don't have a category for "Art." I guess I don't post much about art, or I've shoehorned it into other categories. Maybe I'll do more of this in the future. Maybe not. But we've got a category now, so our taxonomy has that going for it.]

Aging, but Ageless

Next month, God willing, I'll achieve a certain age-related milestone, one that's traditionally used in our society to signify what might politely be called "the beginning of the downhill slide." From a practical perspective, the only immediate impact I anticipate is the savings of a buck-and-a-quarter at the movies, which is nothing to sneeze at, by the way.

Still, when I contemplate 55, the overriding reaction is, "I'm not old enough to be that old!" I surely don't feel that old. In fact, I don't feel any different than I did at other "milestone" ages, dating back just about as far as I can remember.

A few Sundays back, our Bible study was in the first chapter of 2 Peter, which includes a passage (verses 12-15) where Peter tells his readers about the importance of remembering his teachings after he was gone:

The teacher paused and said something to the effect that Peter's comment about "living in the tent of this body" was a reminder that we're not purely – or even primarily – physical beings. She then threw out this tantalizing tidbit. "I think that's why we never really view ourselves as being as old as others think we are, or as old as our ages tell us we are." What she was saying is that in our minds and spirits, we're, well, ageless, because that's the part of us that will survive for eternity, long after this body has broken down and returned to dust. Our spirit recognizes this eternal truth, and while we may at times be able to subvert it with emotion and thought, that truth doesn't change.

Thus it's a gift from God to us, to see ourselves as an ageless being, regardless of what we see in the mirror, and regardless of what our inevitably decaying bodies try to tell us.

So, youngsters, the next time some old guy – say, an aging web designer (who might still be able to kick your rear on a bike, but that's neither here nor there) – throws out that seemingly lame declaration that he's not as old as he is, keep in mind that it's the truth. And it applies to you, too.

Texas Politics: Never a Dull Moment

The state legislature has finally – finally! – ended its latest session, having expended vast amounts of energy to provide the utmost in entertainment for the benefit of the voters of Texas, and the Texas Insider has a tidy compilation of the winners and losers from the session. My favorites:

I didn't realize that our proud state had no Official Amphibian. I guess Dan Rather doesn't count.

Credit Card Theft: Letting it go

I appreciate the feedback and insights many of you shared in regard to our recent encounter with a credit card thief. Many of you felt that we should attempt to bring legal action against the perpetrators of that crime, and I can't argue with any of the reasons you put forth.

However, we've elected to defer to the credit card company with regard to any legal action. It has the resources, knows the process, and is also the party that was most harmed by the crime.

From my perspective, besides the feeling that it's the credit card issuer's responsibility to pursue this matter, I tended to place a good deal of weight on the argument expressed by Gwynne that the police have better things to do. I wish that credit card theft was the most serious and pressing issue our law enforcement agencies had to deal with, but we all know that's not the case. Here again, if my information is accurate, the credit card company should be able to go directly to the local authorities (where the fraudulent orders were placed) and bypass the jurisdictional complications that would arise from a filing in Midland.

This is not a case of turning the other cheek, by the way. I hope the credit card company pursues this case, and I'll cooperate in every way possible. My decision is simply one based on my judgment of how scarce and valuable resources should be allocated.

Thanks again for your suggestions and support.

Slitheringly Successful Cycling

[I realize that some (many? most?) of you find these posts distasteful, but you must realize that we're experiencing a pretty amazing year, weather-wise, which results in wildlife sightings that are unusual and demand to be documented. Please indulge me.]

We set out on a late afternoon bicycle ride, heading west toward a cloud bank on the horizon that's just now materializing overhead as an impending thunderstorm. The riding weather, however, was quite pleasant, as was the scenery. The pasture along Highway 191 is downright luxurious thanks to rainfall totals that border on record-setting. Those rains seem to have supercharged the whole ecosystem in these parts, as the entire food chain benefits.

This morning, for instance, we drove down an unpaved road south of town where the water has been standing in the bar ditches for days, and we could see the surface of that water apparently boiling. Upon closer scrutiny, we saw that literally hundreds upon hundreds of tadpoles inhabited those temporary ponds. We saw tiny frogs in equally manifold numbers out on the shooting range. And you must understand that where the small amphibians are, there too will eventually appear the larger reptiles.

Reptiles like this one, which we encountered about eight miles west of town on our ride:

If it looks a bit familiar, it's because of the resemblance to this one that we came upon about a week ago. It's a bull snake, about four feet in length. Unlike the last poor guy, I managed to coax this one off the roadbed and back into the relative safety of the pasture.

We remounted the bike and continued our ride, but less than a mile later we came across this one:

This one required a little more caution; it's a rattlesnake, about two feet long, and quite annoyed by my presence. I didn't get quite as close to it – they can strike a distance of about half their body length (or is it twice? note to self: this sort of uncertainty around venomous snakes is ill-advised; brush up on your research), but they're among the fastest strikers in the snake kingdom (ever wonder why "snake charmers" work with cobras? It's because they're sooooo slow. The snakes, not the charmers. Although that, too, is debatable.)

Anyway, once I snapped this photo, I jumped over and crushed his wee little head into a red paste on the ground, laughing maniacally at his death throes and the increasingly feeble warnings of his rattles. Not really. We actually watched him slither back into the pasture from which he had emerged, all of us happy to part company unscathed.

The remainder of the ride was uneventful – well, other than running over the gator. But that's another story for another day.

Update: Bob also had a close encounter of the rattler kind today over at his place in Stanton. And he did dispatch the creature with extreme prejudice. I don't blame him. It's one thing to find them in a pasture, well away from human life. It's quite another when they're in your back yard.

Memorial Day 2007

Hope your Memorial Day (if you're in the good old US of A) is a good one – and that you're doing something more interesting than reading this.

It's a gorgeous day in west Texas, and I'm sitting on the patio after a gun cleaning session following a morning with friends at the range (is there any irony in cleaning firearms while the Beatles' Love is playing on the patio speakers?). The temperature is in the low 80s and there's just enough breeze to make the shaded porch an attractive nuisance for wannabe nap-takers.

We hung our flag early this morning, one of the few on our street. (What a difference five years makes.) Anyway, although we won't be attending any special events today, the reason for this holiday hasn't escaped us, and we gratefully acknowledge that we're able to enjoy such a carefree lifestyle because many other men and women made the ultimate sacrifice to make it so. If that thought doesn't put a serious lump in your throat then I respectfully submit that you should do some serious soul-searching.

May God continue to bless America.

Crime and Punishment

Mr. Siegmund, we're contacting you because we've identified a series of suspicious charges to your account...

And so it begins, as the data theft epidemic becomes personal.

The first indication that something was amiss was a cryptic phone message from J.C. Penney asking me to call them as soon as possible about my internet order. I didn't know about any such order, but it was entirely possible that my wife had placed one, so I didn't return the call, preferring to leave it for her.

The voicemail message from the credit card company got my attention, however, and I did return that call. The woman in the fraud detection department confirmed my identity (it's apparently harder to prove that you own the card than to use it fraudulently), and then recited a string of transactions charged to the card starting on Wednesday. Many of them had been placed on hold or rejected by alert merchants, although some had gone through. The thief was a busy little rascal, and eclectic in his larceny, charging everything from auto parts to flowers to DVD players and clothing (Guess.com?! Give me a break, you hipster doofus.).

In a matter of minutes, we'd canceled the account, an order was given to ship a replacement card, and the process for dealing with the current legitimate balance was explained. I fed my card through the shredder and emailed my wife to do the same with hers. So that's that.

Only...not really.

There's the matter of dealing with the criminal, whose activities are felonious in nature. He (or she) isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, having provided a residential shipping address (in Buna, Texas). The lady at J.C. Penney's loss prevention department assured me of their cooperation with local authorities if I wanted to press charges.

Filing charges hadn't occurred to me. I assumed that that's what the credit card company would do if they located the offender. After all, I'm not incurring any financial loss. It's the vendors and/or the credit card company who stand to lose something. I'm not sure what to do.

On the one hand, I could see how going forward with charges could be a royal pain in the rear, and a great time drain, not to mention the emotional costs. On the other, if that's the only way the criminal gets brought to justice, I've shirked my civic duty by not pursuing it.

As far as the impact of the crime itself, I find myself strangely unconcerned. I suppose I'm jaded, given my understanding of the inevitable implications of living in an online world to the extent we do. Credit card theft is no longer a question of "if," but of "when." I'm more impressed with the speed and effectiveness of the merchants and card company in detecting and short-circuiting the continuance of the crime. There's only so much we can do to prevent such theft; knowing that our personal interests (in this matter, at least) are closely aligned with the superior resources of those folks is where we need to find our comfort.

PC World's "Best of 2007" List

PC World has released its list of "The 100 Best Products of 2007" (despite our not being halfway through the year; perhaps they know something we don't about how the second half will unfold).

As a completely objective observer (ha) what caught my eye was the absence of one very prominent operating system (which won't be named here but it rhymes with "blista") and the presence of another one which was released in 2005 (Mac OS 10.4). Go figure.

#1 on the list? Google Apps (Premier Edition)

FWIW, Apple has more items (6) on the list than any other manufacturer, followed by Google (5) and Dell (4).

Random Thursday Lite

According to Wikipedia, the shortest commercial runway in the world is situated on the tiny island of Saba, and is only 400 meters in length.*

• After years of studying the phenomenon, I feel comfortable in asserting that the likelihood of your newspaper being thrown onto the fraction of the portion of your driveway that's covered with runoff from your sprinkler system is directly proportional to the likelihood that the sun will rise in the east.

*I didn't know it was the shortest, but I did know it was pretty dang short, having landed there once in 1989.

A Model Airplane

A Gazette reader* who, as far as I know, is completely normal in all other respects, drew my attention to this article about Boeing's new jet, the 787 Dreamliner, and its description of the manufacturing process, the "snapping together of enormous composite parts."

I'm sure there are other folks out there who have fond memories of building model airplanes in fume-filled bedrooms. My friend is obviously one of those, and he provided this actual picture of Boeing's process, based on his mental picture (I hope he doesn't take umbrage at my supplying a few mods of my own; think of it as applying a pixel-grinding Dremel tool, amigo):

Of course, snap-together models were for wimps, even if they were easier to assemble and, for me at least, provided vastly improved odds that the final product would bear at least minuscule resemblance to the obviously fake photo on the front of the box (c'mon – nobody could actually apply those cheap decals without leaving obvious fingerprints all over them). But if you had to resort to the snap-together approach, you could salvage some of your dignity by using airplane glue on the seams anyway.

Let's hope Boeing has stocked up on some hefty supplies of industrial strength glue for the Dreamliner.

*Said reader has earnestly requested anonymity, making me wonder if he's engaging in industrial espionage.

Nice try, but it won't work

Judging by the traffic numbers to this here blog yesterday, my writing seems to be most attractive when there isn't any. I can only attribute this phenomenon to the actions of hundreds of people who, scarcely believing their good luck, keep coming back here to confirm that I have, indeed, not posted anything.

But I'm on to your nefarious plan, and I'm going to keep writing even if it means driving the readership back down to zero, where it belongs.

Abbreviating Numbers

The headline at the top of the front page of today's local newspaper reads:

[And, no – this is not a post about the obvious misspelling, nor will I stoop to making observations like "I hope the scholarships are for spelling classes."]

When I showed the headline to my wife as she came out of the game room following her daily treadmill session, her remark was "Nine thousand dollars for scholarships? That doesn't sound like much." That got me to thinking about how even the simplest of writing conventions – abbreviations, in this case – are still ripe for misinterpretation.

I did a quick search through some of my style guides, including Strunk & White's venerable The Elements of Style, and the much more contemporary Garner's Modern American Usage by Bryan A. Garner, and none of them addressed the proper way to abbreviate large numbers.

My wife and I have extensive backgrounds in the oil business, working for Fortune 500 corporations where the numbers run to the high end, and we're accustomed to seeing "M" used to signify "thousand" (presumably from the Latin mille) rather than "K" (a "pseudo-metric" reference which is rooted in the French word for thousand, according to my dictionary)*. Using this convention, the abbreviation for million is "MM" (or one thousand thousands), so that the headline above would have referred to a "$9 MM scholarship donation."

I'm not arguing that MM is better or more descriptive than M for quantifying something. I'm simply pointing out that writers need to be aware of the potential for miscommunication in even the smallest of details. When in doubt, spell it out.

Using proper spelling, of course.

For more about this issue, check out this message thread on "The Math Forum: Ask Dr. Math" website, as well as The Dictionary of Units of Measurement.

*It's interesting – well, to me, anyway – to note that even in the industry, the logic behind the abbreviation process breaks down as the numbers get really big. For example, while MCF stands for "thousand cubic feet" and MMCF signifies "million cubic feet," we use BCF and TCF as abbreviations for "billion cubic feet" and "trillion cubic feet," respectively. This reversion to literal abbreviation is apparently due to the fact that there is no Roman numeral equivalent for 1,000,000 or greater. The Romans seemed to believe that such numbers were ridiculous and refused to dignify them with a notation.

Can't swing a dead cat without hitting a snake

We drove out to look at an open house at Woodland Park this afternoon, and as we turned back onto "A" Street to head home, I spotted this fellow in the middle of the road. I did a quick u-turn, pulled off into the bar ditch, and grabbed my wife's phone to snap some photos.

At first, I thought it was a rattler (the timing was eerie considering the warning we got last week), but I quickly discerned that there was a pointed tail where the rattles would normally be, and the head – while somewhat viper-shaped – didn't really fit the profile. I decided it was a bull snake, which is often mistaken for a rattlesnake, and which is one of the largest snake species in North America. It's not unusual for them to grow to 7' in length. They're not poisonous, and they play an important role in controlling the rodent population.

The reason the photo is so small is that I didn't want to get any closer; the reptile was royally ticked-off, issuing a continuous hissing loud enough to hear inside the car. He (she?) was obviously agitated, coiling and uncoiling – and not a bit intimidated by my presence or that of the car. At one point, it struck at me (immediately following the snapping of the photo on the right; I guess I should have asked permission first). Bull snakes can be aggressive even when not wounded, and they will bite; this one was itching to demonstrate.

Peering closer, I noticed the inside of its mouth was red, and I think I figured out the cause of its agitation. I suspect it had been clipped by a passing car and was injured, perhaps not fatally, but badly enough to strike out at anything in reach. We felt sorry for it, but had no way of herding it off the roadway. I hope it made it to safety before a less observant driver finished it off.

[Oh, Beth – did I mention there are snakes in this post? Oops.]

Spidey Friday: A Non-Review

[The post title really is a rhyme if you say it fast enough, and with a mouth full of popcorn.]

This isn't a review of Spiderman 3, just a few irrelevant observations. However, a couple of them are seriously spoilerish, in case you haven't seen the movie but intend to.

• I'm have increasing difficulty distinguishing between Peter Parker and Frodo Baggins. They both cry a lot.* Fortunately, Frodo has hairy feet.


• And speaking of feet, who knew that Spiderman wore stirrup pants? What a revelation. And not even broad, manly ones, but narrow sissy ones. The stirrups, that is. Well, I guess the pants as well, given that they're spandex.


• I was fascinated by the prowess of the animators who brought the Sandman to life. I'm pretty jaded when it comes to special effects, but that was awesome.


• But what was up with the black alien gel? It could travel across space, take control over other lifeforms, rendering them superhuman – but it couldn't withstand some common harmonic frequencies? Next thing you know, they'll be making movies about aliens who invade earth only to die of head colds. Oh wait...
• I actually preferred Goth Dork Spidey to Whitebread Dork Spidey, even with the eyeliner.


• However, the dance scene in the jazz club – although undeniably cool – reminded me of Jim Carrey in The Mask.


• J.J. Jameson cracks me up.

*This observation was affirmed by Robert, who with wife Sherry sat in the row behind us and smooched during the slow parts (of which there were too many, although probably not for Robert and Sherry). Sherry thanked me after the movie for giving Robert the idea of taking the afternoon off and catching a movie (oops! I guess your boss wasn't supposed to know that, huh?). I guess I'm going have to start charging a consulting fee.

Fancy Free Friday

Today is the rarest of days: my wife's "regularly scheduled every other Friday day off" in which (1) she will actually be able to take the day off, and (b) we have no outgoing travel or incoming visitor obligations.

So, our agenda today contains...nothing. Nothing "official," at least. But since it's been ten weeks since we've been to a movie together (Wild Hogs), and since it's already been raining this morning, this seems like a perfect day to take in either Spiderman 3 or Shrek the Third. It might also be a good day to browse the local bookstore looking at floor plans while consuming mass quantities of frothed caffeine and wholesome frosted pastries. (Tip: Barnes & Noble has been featuring some wicked cupcakes lately.)

Hope your weekend is equally subject to your own whims and amusements.

Snake Season?

[Warning to Beth: As the post title implies, here there be snakes. Proceed with caution.]

With all the rain we've been getting (it's coming down steadily again this morning), it's a wonder that we're not seeing an influx of water moccasins, to go along with our other abundant imported fauna – squirrels, killers bees and, yes, even fire ants.

I've got snakes on my mind thanks to this article in today's local newspaper in which "officials" provide us with some tips for dealing with the emerging snake population (provided that summer does actually arrive this year). [One of the "officials" quoted in the article, Dr. Mark Miller, happens to be Abbye's veterinarian.]

The article contains the usual advice for avoiding rattlesnakes (back away slowly, don't meet their gaze, try not to scream like a little girl, etc.) and for treating snakebite after you inevitably forget or ignore said advice (don't cut or suck on the wound, amputate only above the wound, try not to scream like a little girl, etc.). It's all good advice – as is the idea of getting your dog vaccinated if it's going to be out and about in snake country – although it inexplicably omitted the value of carrying a .45 with snake loads (I confess to having never met anyone who, upon being surprised by a rattlesnake, can actually muster the aiming accuracy to shoot it, snake loads or not; beating it to death with the butt of a shotgun seems to be a more effective defense).

What caught my eye, however, is the local Animal Control director's reference to the poisonous snakes we deal with in this region, like coral snakes, rattlesnakes and Texas night snakes. Say what? "Texas night snakes"?

Everyone knows there are only four species of poisonous snakes in North America: coral snakes (which have to chew on you for a while to inject any venom), rattlers (our rep of choice, locally), the afore-mentioned moccasin (a nastier-tempered snake you'll be hard pressed to find), and the rattler-wannabe, the copperhead (which will jiggle its tail in dry leaves as a manifestation of rattle-envy). So, where does the Texas night snake come in?

According to this article from a UT-sponsored website, Hypsiglena torquata jani is actually classified as non-venomous, but like many herps, it's "mildly venomous" to its prey. In other words, if you're a field mouse or toad, its bite may inject enough poison to render you inert while it carries out its naturally nefarious instincts, but humans are not in any danger from the bite (well, except for gangrene from its dirty mouth, and other such minor irritants).

Interestingly, on the habitat map provided with the article, Ector and Midland counties are two of the few west Texas counties not included in the range of the species. However, snakes are notoriously poor map-readers, so I would take that with a grain of salt.

Technorati tags: Texas Night Snakes | Rattlesnakes | Screaming like a little girl

Caution: Self-Editing at Work

Despite a recent promise to the contrary, and fueled by a combination of late night ingestion of caffeine and an irrational need to employ the phrase "intentionally provocative," I descended into the depths of punditry with respect to the just-announced lawsuit by the ACLU against the Odessa school district over the latter's inclusion of a "Bible as literature" elective in its curriculum.

Having slept on it, I've decided to remain true(r) to my promise and I've deleted the post. An unfortunate consequence is that that also required deletion of comments which – as usual – were more pithy and well thought-out than the post itself. To those who left the comments, I apologize.

For the rest of you, perhaps this post will be sufficiently intentionally provocative.

DRM: The Stake is Driven Deeper

At the risk of being overly dramatic, it's quite possible that Amazon.com's decision to start offering DRM-free music downloads will spell the end of that misguided attempt to control what consumers do with their purchases.

Of course, the momentum for this got its start when Apple announced last month that EMI had agreed to offer its catalog DRM-free via the iTunes Store. Amazon's announcement validates the wisdom of that move.

Don't be surprised to see record labels falling all over themselves to get on this bandwagon.

The linked article in Playlist mentioned "12,000 labels" will participate in the venture. I'm no expert in the music business but that looks like a typo. Are there really more than 12,000 record labels in existence? Amazing, if true.

Mac Tip: Changing the default name for a new folder

The current issue of Macworld has a teaser reference to an OS X tip which allows you to change the name the system automatically applies to newly created folders from the illogical "Untitled Folder" to something more meaningful. The process involves about a dozen steps, but it's quite simple overall.

The step-by-step instructions are found here. Note that if you're running OS 10.3.x, the file referred to in the article as Localizable.strings will actually be named Localized.strings. Everything else is the same as shown in the article.

The benefit of changing the default name is that you can add a blank space (or another character) to ensure that any new folder will automatically sort to the beginning (or end) of your window listing. It's a minor thing, admittedly, but it's also fun to take control over such details.

[Try to resist playing around with the other variables in Localized.strings. There's no telling how much "fun" you could have with them!]

Just don't ask me to drive less

Today's the big gasoline boycott, also known as "Show Your Economic Ignorance Day," and I for one plan to actively participate. In fact, I'm taking things a step or two further, by:

• Shaking my fist at the sun;


• Flaunting the law of gravity by jumping real high; and,


• Directing a sternly arched eyebrow in the direction of Iran.

Later on, emboldened by the results of these aggressive tactics, I'll likely spit into the wind and curse the darkness.

So there.

Two Modest Proposals

I'm sure that smokers, dippers, and chewers already feel like an oppressed people group, so the following shouldn't add significantly to the burden.

• At each checkout lane of the grocery store, there should be a button that must be pushed before you get in line, to indicate that you'll be purchasing tobacco products. When that button is pushed, a light will go on over the checker so that people contemplating getting in line behind you will understand that their wait time will be doubled over the normal period while the cashier finds the key to the vault, ambles the inevitable 100 yards to unlock it, searches for your off-brand request, returns only to find that you requested the unfiltered version, ambles off again, and eventually locates your product of choice.


• Along those same lines, the purchase of any tobacco product should automatically count as eleven (11) items, meaning that you cannot queue up in the Express Checkout, seeing as how your presence there effectively negates the entire concept of "Express Checkout."

Thanks for your consideration of these ideas.

Movie Reviews: Whom to Believe?

Being a professional movie reviewer is very much like being Al Gore. You can say whatever you want about the subject of your presumed expertise, and no one can actually prove you wrong (or right). You can also indulge in bucket after bucket of buttered popcorn.

The subjectivity of movie reviews has never been better illustrated than with two write-ups of the new zombie movie, 28 Weeks Later, a sequel to 28 Days Later, which itself garnered some pretty good reviews for a zombie movie.

David Germain, a reviewer for Associated Press, has this to say about 28 Weeks:

From the other side of the sticky aisle come these comments, from a fellow named Joe Morgenstern, who happens to be the Pulitzer-prize winning film critic for the Wall Street Journal and co-founder of the National Society of Film Critics:

So, who do you believe? It's not a trivial question, given the cost -- and not just in terms of dollars, but also time and hassle -- of attending a movie nowadays.

In the case of 28 Weeks, I suspect that the target demographic won't be swayed by either review. If you're a zombie fan, you're a zombie fan, and for you, the issue of distinguishing between a good zombie movie and a bad one is met with a reaction of "I don't understand the question."

But, lest we be disheartened by this absence of unanimity, the critics are on the same page with respect to Lindsay Lohan's new movie, Georgia Rules. Morgenstern draws immediate blood with this opening sentence: Certain words should be reserved for special occasions. "Abysmal" is one of them, and "Georgia Rule" is as special as such occasions get. And the AP reviewer, Christy Lemire, gives it one star. And, I think, for most people this will reinforce their decision to see Spidey3 one more time.

A Movie to Remember

I've been inundated by demands for the answer to the throwaway movie quiz I left at the end of yesterday's Random Thursday post ("inundated" being a relative term, with the scale running from zero ["overwhelmed"] to one ["inundated"]), so I'll reveal the answer in a moment.

For those who couldn't quite wade through that post, here's the description I provided: The [movie's] dialog was in English, but the movie had Dutch subtitles.

The film was being aired on the Turner Classic Movie channel, and I ran across it in the course of flipping through channels seeking some weather updates. It was obviously an American-made movie, so the presence of Dutch subtitles was intriguing. It took me a few minutes to discover what that was all about; as it turns out, the film was made in 1938, and the only surviving copy was discovered in a film archive in -- you guessed it -- the Netherlands.

The title? A Man to Remember (the movie also had an alternative title of Country Doctor).

The film predates the infinitely more familiar It's a Wonderful Life by eight years, but they both share the "richest man in town" theme.

I was also amazed at how closely many Dutch words resemble their English counterparts, or how much of our language was borrowed from or derived from theirs.

One last bit of related trivia is that some of the on-screen writing -- notes on postcards, etc. -- were overwritten in Dutch, and there's no accompanying English translation. Since this is the only remaining copy of the movie, most of us will be out of luck in ever knowing the content of those messages, other than what we can intuit* from the context.

*You probably didn't realize that if you try to hack the Wikipedia URL for the entry on "Inuit music" (and who among us hasn't, at one time or another) you'll need to misspell "Inuit" as "Intuit": http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intuit_(music).

Mystery Car Contest

Update: Kyle Lent -- who's a professional musician and owns his own recording studio and is thus one of the few Gazette readers who can actually afford the car -- correctly identified it as a Koenigsegg CCX, manufactured in Sweden. Kyle narrowly edged out "Paula's son" (I secretly think it was Paula's guess and she just didn't want to admit it ;-) who identified it as a CCR; that was very close, but the CCX replaced that model this year. Thanks for playing!

How about a completely different kind of contest?

The first person to correctly identify the following car will win untold fame and glory, blah blah blah...

Here's a hint: the car's engine generates over 800 bhp off the showroom floor, but its quarter mile time is still almost 10 seconds.

Quote of the Day

It's been awhile since I put a burr under the saddles of certain people (you know who you are), so I offer the following quote from Brother Steve Jobs's address during Apple's shareholder meeting today:

Hat tip to Macworld

Random Thursday

For a desert, things are awfully wet around here.

• MLB has been graced by her employer with a brand spanking new Blackberry, ensuring her the privilege of never being out of contact with the office. But there are a few challenges. One is the protocol of just how attached she should be to the device. Should she take it to lunch? (Probably) How about to the restroom? (Umm...)
  
  But the bigger issue is that, after years of spending who knows how many dollars to buy the newest smaller cellphone so that it will fit in her stylishly svelte handbags, she's now saddled with this big honkin' thing (it's the model with the full QWERTY keyboard). If she was a guy (or a geek), she'd just hang it from her belt, but she doesn't swing that way and so the fashion obstacle is profound. I'm sure she'd appreciate any advice you can provide, seeing as how I proved myself to be worthless in that regard when I suggested hanging it from a chain around her neck.


• I alluded above to the fact that we've had some unusually damp weather around here lately. In fact, I've measured 4.7" of rain in our backyard since May 2, and almost 12" year-to-date. Those numbers may not be impressive unless you realize that our average annual rainfall is 14". And while no one who's lived out here for very long will complain about getting some good downpours (except those poor souls whose homes have flooded), we're all secretly wishing for a few days of sunshine. After all, this is the desert, and if we wanted to mildew, we'd have moved to Houston when we had the chance (which all of us have had, at one time or another).


• This is the point at which I'd normally employ the adage that living in Houston is like living in the mouth of a dog, but I've been threatened with legal action by the Bayou City Chamber of Commerce if I do it again, so I won't.


• The Big Bend Open Road Race was held a couple of weekends ago in Fort Stockton. By all accounts, it was another successful event, but everyone was abuzz (ha! Oh, that's premature...) over the Close Encounter of the Bird Kind experienced by the driver who came upon six buzzards in the middle of the highway, and managed to avoid five of them -- while doing 195. The sixth ended up having a bad day, as evidenced by these photos. Amazingly, the car went on to win its class (Provisional Unlimited) with an average speed of 172 mph. No word on whether it was later disqualified for carrying an unauthorized passenger.


• Did you catch the types of vehicles entered in the Unlimited class? Talk about diverse. A 1999 NASCAR entry, followed by a 1962 Dodge Polara. The third entry, a '99 Grand Prix, had a DNF due to a DNS, which, when you think about it, is a fairly predictable outcome.


• I'll close with a movie trivia question. Earlier this week I watched a movie on TV. The dialog was in English, but the movie had Dutch subtitles. Any guesses as to the movie's title?

Cracker Barrel - A Cut Above

I heard this morning that the Midland City Council has approved the application for a new Cracker Barrel restaurant to be located in the northwest part of town.

According to the report, this will be the chain's first location not on an interstate highway, and will be a prototype for future such restaurants.

One might be tempted to say the store is on the cutting edge.

[duck & cover]

DWTS: The Final Four

Now that Billy Ray "Sanjaya" Cyrus has mercifully been axed from Dancing with the Stars, we need to assess the chances of the remaining four competitors.

When I last handicapped the field, there were nine contestants, and I managed to get the final four right (which, admittedly, wasn't rocket science). However, I never dreamed that someone as truly and resolutely awful as Cyrus would survive this long. The fact that he did demonstrates (1) the power of fan voting and (B) the inability of said fans to recognize and/or care about dancing talent.

Nevertheless, we're now where we should be, with the four best dancers remaining. Here's my prediction of the final outcome based solely on my assessment of their skill:

4. Laila Ali
3. Joey Fatone
2. Ian Ziering
1. Apolo Anton Ohno

And here's my prediction of the results considering the enigmatic "fan factor":

4. Joey Fatone - Face it; the guy's annoying. His self-effacing humor was an asset in the beginning, but the strain of maintaining it is beginning to show.


3. Laila Ali - Ali's disadvantaged by her gender. I don't think there are enough female boxing fans to keep her going, and while having her almost universally loved dad on Monday's show was a brilliant move, it won't work every week.


2. Ian Ziering - Ziering is wound tighter than Cheryl Burke's costumes, but the loyalty of BH90210 fans is apparently boundless. Fortunately, he's a talented dancer (and has been held to a higher standard by the judges than anyone else, in my opinion).


1. Apolo Anton Ohno - Despite needing to use three names to distinguish himself from all the other Apolo Onhos out there, this guy is the surprise of the season. He gets better each week, and he and his partner are a publicist's dream. Need further proof? MLB is rooting for them.

As for me, I'm waiting for Jimmy Kimmel and Guillermo to be actual contestants next year. Last night's bit with Master P invoked serious paroxysms of hilarity (whatever that means) in our living room.

Feel free to dispute my predictions, or the shoddy reasoning behind them.

"You throw like a girl." "Thanks!"

There's an old* adage in sports that goes "those who can't do, generate statistics." And so we're awash with numerical indicators of dubious usefulness, like aces per game on clay (tennis), 3 point percentage in away games played in cities beginning with an "S" (basketball), and butt pats per game (football).

The most entertaining of such statistics are those which seek to measure something relevant against something less so. One of the most famous is found in golf, where "shooting your age" is apparently a mark of stellar achievement, as by the time one's age is such that the score is reasonable, one's physical ability has deteriorated to the point where achievement of that score is darned near impossible.

I proposed to add a new statistic to that category. But first, the back story.

Abbye and I were walking around the local park a couple of weeks ago, and observed an unusual scene at the baseball diamond next to the entrance. A young girl -- she appeared to be about 10 or 11 -- was pitching a softball to a woman sitting on an overturned bucket. The girl was hurling the ball with the traditional underarm motion, and the velocity (and accuracy) with which it smacked the glove was quite dramatic, so much so that someone else was measuring her pitches with a radar gun and calling out the numbers as we walked past.

Now, the highest number I heard was 41 mph, which may not sound too impressive compared to the majors (where a fast ball may exceed 100 mph), but it was plenty good for a slip of a girl, and it caused me to wonder if anyone had ever tracked pitch speed as a percentage of pitcher weight. In other words -- to use the golfing vernacular -- has anyone ever pitched their weight?

I suspect the little blond-headed girl was coming pretty close to it, and I'm sure that no major league pitcher ever has. I also wouldn't be surprised to learn that elite college softball pitchers of the distaff persuasion routinely accomplish that feat.

And so, as Roger Clemens leaves Houston and re-dons the Yankee pinstripes, it's good to remember that while he may be making a bazillion dollars, he'll never out-pitch that little Midland girl, at least where this new key statistic is concerned.

*And by "old" I mean the length of time it took me to make it up just now.

Thoughts we think so you don't have to

• There has never been, to our knowledge, a credible superhero whose day job is economist.


• For your child's next science fair, we strongly suggest doing an experiment demonstrating the power of a permeable membrane to conduct water from one side of an apparently solid material to the other side. For guaranteed results, use the plastic bag your newspaper is delivered in.


• The world's simplest manufactured product is, in our opinion, the wooden toothpick. The runner-up is Paris Hilton.

Godliness and Holiness

As I read yesterday's God Issues Today newsletter (yesterday being particularly hectic and thus requiring allocation of part of today to complete it; I don't know how we'll ever get caught up on today and still keep tomorrow intact) focusing on prayer, I was struck by Jim Denison's explanation of two terms that get thrown around a lot in church. Dr. Denison is explaining why it's important that we pray, and pray specifically for our nation and its leaders:

The reference in quotes at the beginning comes from the New Testament book of 1 Timothy, wherein the writer urges the readers to pray for their leaders so "that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness."

Anyway, I don't believe I've ever heard the concept of holiness explained in that way. The working definition I've always used for "holy" is something along the lines of "being set apart by God for his special purposes." I'd never focused on a possible extension to that definition, to think about what those purposes might be.

But it makes perfect sense. God created us to worship and fellowship with him, but also to love and fellowship with one another. And he set believers apart -- made them holy -- not just to exist in some monkish isolation (although a few may well be called to do that) but to enrich and encourage and enliven those around us. Or, as Denison puts it, to be more godly with others.

That's pretty heady stuff. It could be quite intimidating to consider in terms of what we think we're capable of doing vs. the immensity of the task. On the other hand, I don't think God would have led the apostle Paul to write those words if he didn't also provide the power for us to do it. And how do we tap into that power?

Well, we circle right back around to where we started: with prayer. And that's a feedback loop we should all seek to become a part of.

An Evening with Dave

We spent an hour or so with our good bud, Dave Barry, who dropped by Midland as a part of the Phyllis & Bob Cowan Performing Arts Series at Midland College.

Barry has always been the guy I wanted to be when I grew up, at least as a writer, but I'd never heard him speak. We went with high expectations -- and he didn't disappoint. While his stories are inarguably hilarious in writing, there was something about hearing them in his voice made them even better. Of course, there's also the crowd factor -- laughing at the laughers, so to speak.

He went through the usual shtick: the joys of living in Miami (whose new tourism motto is, "Come Back -- We Weren't Shooting at You!"), the wonders of North Dakota (based on a column about the state that generated 150 letters, or "one from every resident" and resulted in a sewage lifting station being named in his honor), the challenges of removing a big honkin' dead whale from a beach in Oregon (is there anyone who believes a state highway department anywhere should be entrusted with dynamite?), and the mind-numbing qualities of certain Neil Diamond lyrics. He closed with a reading of a short story illustrating the fundamental differences between men and women, which, frankly, I didn't understand, but then, I'm not a anthropological psychologist.

One of the funnier running gags arose spontaneously when he noticed that someone had forgotten to put any water in the drinking glass left for him on the podium. He periodically paused his delivery to take a swig from the empty glass. OK, you just had to be there.

He also gave me a great idea for a meme, which I'll close with here. Feel free run with it as you choose, but just remember where you saw it stolen first:

In anticipation of the opportunity of a lifetime, prepare in advance a list of things you'd do with the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile if and when it's offered to you for the day.

By the way, he makes a better Dave Barry -- albeit a shorter one -- than Harry Anderson.

NDOP 2007

I bicycled downtown at noon today to attend the local observance of the National Day of Prayer. (I could get away with the cycling thing as the service was held outside, in the nice plaza area of downtown. I was also careful to sit downwind of the other attendees, since I had completed a 20 mile ride an hour earlier. But I digress.)

I haven't been to an NDOP ceremony in several years. The crowd was smaller than I expected -- I counted about a hundred in attendance -- but the coordinator said they'd printed only 50 programs so perhaps more people than usual showed up. It was certainly a pretty enough day for it, mild and still and everything fresh from yesterday's deluge.

As always, I'm intrigued by who shows up for these public displays of faith. With the exception of the pastor of First Presbyterian Church, those on the program were from the smaller congregations in Midland. And since the event is coordinated by the Ministerial Alliance, those churches who don't participate in that organization seem to also not promote or participate in the events it's associated with. That leaves out entire denominations, as well as some of the largest congregations in the area. That's a shame. I'm not sure how we can pray for unity and healing of spirit in our nation when we can't even get there in our churches.

Of course, NDOP -- and prayer in general -- isn't really a corporate activity. It's individual, one-on-one with God, and anyone who looks to a church governing body to decide when and how to engage in prayer has got bigger problems than mere inter-denominational politics.

I didn't see a lot of the folks in attendance who were being prayed for. I recognized one city councilman, but no judges, law enforcement officials, or other county and city officials. Of course, I don't know everyone in those roles (and I did keep myself somewhat sequestered for the reasons discussed above), but I do know that in some of the past observances, those folks have turned out in bigger numbers.

Still, it was a good time, and a reminder of just how blessed we are to be able to assemble openly like that and invoke the name of our God. I didn't see anyone anxiously searching the streets for signs of homicide bombers, nor were there lines of soldiers or policemen ringing us to make sure we didn't step over some imaginary line. And even if many of those government officials I referred to didn't appear, I know well that an astounding number of them are people of strong faith, and they rely daily on that faith. Midland is special that way.

Delbert coming to Midland!

I just learned that Delbert McClinton will be playing a concert along with Jonny Lang and Leon Russell, as a part of the "Margarita and Salsa Festival" in downtown Midland on June 9th.

A show featuring any one of these guys would be worth attending, but having all three in the line-up is pretty amazing. We'll be there.

You can be there, too -- drop by this website to buy and print your tickets, which are $26.50 (plus $3.50 handling -- I guess those pixels are expensive to push around).

Relying on the Kindness of Baristas

We pulled into the parking lot of the southside Starbucks just in time to see the door of the church panel van slide open and regurgitate a seemingly endless stream of teenagers. We got out of our truck as the first of the mob reached the store's entrance, and I suppose our faces gave away our feelings, for the group's leader -- not far out of his teen years himself -- called out to them, "hey, guys...let them go first!"

Unfortunately, we were still waiting for our friends to arrive so we reluctantly thanked them and waved them on. We chatted with one of the SB employees who was eating a quick dinner at an outside table, and we discussed the thunderstorms that rolled over Midland earlier in the day.

Our friends arrived and we apprised them of the situation. "We're behind about 16 kids who just went in." The barista corrected me. "Actually, I counted 15." They're trained to be observant and detail-oriented, you know, not unlike FBI agents.

We went inside and grabbed the cushy easy chairs in the back of the room, intending to wait until the line cleared out. After only a couple of minutes, the barista we'd been chatting with came over and asked, "you want your usual?" We did a double-take, saw she was serious, and replied in the affirmative, gratefully. "How about a pastry?" Well, yeah. You can't end fajita night without dessert, can you?

I jumped up, followed her to the counter (where the long line was still, well, long) and picked out something suitably decadent, and laid my Starbucks card on top of the display case. In less than five minutes, she came around carrying our drinks and pastry, as well as my card and receipt. I followed her back and dropped a couple of bucks in the tip jar. The church kids were still in line, placing their orders.

You might say we're in a rut, showing up at the same time on the same night every week and ordering the same thing. But when it leads to service like that, I frankly can't see any downside.

Plus, the kids ended up going out on the patio where they enjoyed their drinks and had a quick Bible study. They were gone before we left.

Nice kids. Great barista. Wonderful evening. Hope yours was as good.

Storm Report

For those who might be hearing dire reports from Midland-Odessa (hi, Mom!), things in northwest Midland, where we are, are just wet. We've had almost 2" of rain in less than an hour, but no hail and the winds haven't been too bad. Also, it looks like the worst of the storms have passed, if the radar is accurate.

On the other hand, south and east of Midland, there are reports of huge hail, and even in northeast Midland, reports of tornado sightings. In fact, MLB just called on her cell phone from the basement of the Claydesta Building, where everyone has been evacuated waiting for the all clear related to those tornado reports. Don't think there's anything to it, but better safe than sorry.

We always appreciate the rain, but, really...we don't need it all at once, or in solid form!

Changes (Part II)

Let's see. We've got a high maintenance dog, parental health issues, one career that demands continual 10-11 hour days and another that's just barely scraping by, plus four years of college tuition glaring from the horizon like the Eye of Mordor. I wonder what we could do to ratchet up the stress level? Hmmm...

I know! What if we build a big honkin' new house and try to sell the old one, tapping into the funds that might otherwise ensure that we have a long and secure retirement*? Yeah, that's the ticket!

Stay tuned -- this could get really interesting, as in the "you idiot -- why would you ever open that closet door during a stormy night when all of your friends have already been brutally murdered by the ax-wielding lunatic with the hockey mask?" kind of interesting.

*Well, sure, it sounds logical when you put it like that. But I don't think it will really be that insignificant.

Weary

I spent a couple of hours at our church's Missions office interviewing folks who'd been screened for potential financial assistance through our benevolence ministry.

It wears me out.

I know that Jesus said we'd always have the poor with us, but I don't know how to not become disheartened when I see how many people make decisions that seem to assure that they'll never be able to escape that condition.

I visited with a woman in her 30s who's living with her three teenaged daughters in a one-room apartment. One of those daughters -- age 16 -- is pregnant...for the second time (she lost the first baby). The woman confided that she was skipping meals so that the daughter would have enough to eat. We helped them with their rent, and gave them a couple of sacks of food from the crisis closet. But what will they do for, say, the next 20 years?

That was one story of six today. Today was one day of the eight each month that our church schedules appointments. Walk-ins are dealt with every day. Hundreds of people, almost every one of them affected by bad decisions, self-destructive behavior, or what some might call just plain bad luck.

It wears me out. And I feel guilty for that. Those blessed souls who minister in this area day in and day out must be angels in human form.

Musical Announcement

In case you haven't checked in a while, Kyle Lent's new solo CD, In Harbors Gray, will be released on May 8.

You can pre-order it for $9.99 at Urban Junk. I think it will also be available via the iTunes Store at some point if you're not into plasticware.