blues in the night

i don't exactly know the implied meaning of a "red-letter day." i get the basic concept that it is said with a certain dose of irony and sarcasm; but, i don't know the history of, or the symbolism of the red letter. perhaps it was a medieval piece of correspondence that delivered the news of the plague reaching a new urban area, or a parcel from the war department relating the news of the death of a loved one, or maybe it was the predecessor of the proverbial pink slip. i don't know the etymology, though i would be happy for you to enlighten me. the point is moot, though, as i did not have a red-letter day today.

today was a blue-letter day in my life. blue in the way that miles davis employed the word. quasi-mournful. pensive. solitary. lamenting. regretting. perhaps these are some of the thoughts i have when i listen to music considered to be from his "blue period." i had a long talk with my brother tonight. while the topic of our discussion was not necessarily cheery, i am feeling azure because of comments made peripheral to the primary topic. i verbalized (for the first time) a thought i have been having for over a year.

i have very few, if any, truly close friends. much of this is self-imposed. i don't care to know anyone intimately enough to be considered a best friend. hell, i don't even know myself, how can i be expected to understand or interpret your life? the rest of the reasons for my cloistered existence are unknown to me. it is what it is. i have had one close friend for the last 20 years. we have always been really good friends. about a year ago- maybe more- i started to notice the tell tale signs of a friendship that has fallen on stony ground. where once a blossom of familiarity graced the garden of my life , it suddenly began to lose petals at an alarming rate as the sun scorched the earth around its roots. it is a sad thing to watch a seemingly mature flower wither and die. especially when you don't realize what you've been watching until it is near an end. this is what has happened to my friend and me. we live far apart and rarely see each other. our paths have parted and interests have diverged. our wives are not fond of one another and our lives are so dissimilar. there is ,by no means, any animosity or malice on either part- just the strange but predictable separation of two men as they plow through the ice fields that are our lives. we retain only the smooth glass-like waters ahead , and push to the side any foreign object that doesn't actively contribute to the success of the current leg of our journeys.

in a way, i guess we will always be friends. just to a lesser degree. i was at the home of a second friend tonight. he said something to his wife along the lines of ,"chris is the best kind of friend. i haven't talked to him in 4 months, and everything is still the same." this is who i am. a safety net of friendship. i'll probably be around when you need me, and you can be sure i won't bother you much when you don't. i'd better stop before i get really depressed.

i will miss you my friend. sure, we'll still talk and occasionally see each other. maybe we'll even go on another trip together. but i fear it will never be the same and i view my loss with uncounted sadness.

study a broad

i have a healthy fascination with the civil war. i have read dozens of books and watched scores of history channel specials focused on varying aspects of the era. the works of ken burns are exceptional. he is comprehensive in his quest to present the civil war to his viewers as a study of the defining event of this nation's history. i am bewildered by the unrelenting violence of the warriors involved. i am stunned by the complexities of the causes and repercussions of the conflict. i am amazed that it took 90 years for the final chapter of the american revolution and continental congress to be written. and i marvel at the titans of history that were created during this war - lincoln, lee, sherman, grant, douglas.

today, i went to the texas book festival with my brother, neil. one of the exhibitors we went to see was charles bracelen flood. he has recently written a book entitled "grant and sherman: the friendship that won the civil war." his presentation was great. he reviewed themes of his work, gave a short reading, answered questions from the audience, and autographed copies of his book for the public. he was very interesting and more than a little engaging. during his presentation, he tried to share information with the audience that most of us would be unlikely to know. on the other hand, if you've read 20 + books on the subject; it will take a while to get stumped. that really neat story about grant and his wild horse at west point ? heard it. grant saving sherman's bacon after the joe johnston surrender? read it. that one time sherman asked his senator brother to squash any talk in the congress of making sherman the supreme commander of union forces (at the expense of his friend, grant?) knew it. before you start getting the idea that i am a history snob, and think i know it all; let me tell you that i enjoy this kind of symposium because i ALWAYS learn things i never had known. today, in the presence of a real scholar, was no exception.

mr. flood shared with us information about the wives of these two men. i know so little on the subject that i can't even give you the names of these two women. mrs. grant and mrs. sherman. does that work? well, mr. flood shared with us the words of a letter penned by mrs. sherman. she was writing to her rebel-defeating husband while he was somewhere out in the western theater. rather than reflecting the genteel, demure, submissive behavior of a victorian lady; mrs. sherman was downright forceful. her reflections on the penalty required of the confederates was not only direct and unremorseful; she basically defined sherman's "scorched earth" policy. perhaps the operation that bissected, disempowered, and defeated the south began at home, in the musings of a woman who knew and loved her man. if so , he was not the first - nor the last - to be edified by the love of a woman.

the other presentation we went to was given by daryl royal and cactus pryor. if any two people can define the austin of the past 50 years, it may be these two men. they spoke alot about football, of course; but , they also told stories of old politicians, television, and fading memories. it was added fun because the discussion was moderated by my friend ed clements. at one point in the presentation, mr. pryor suggested that coach royal had married way above his head. of course, he got a good laugh ; but , this platitude he used has a ring of truth to it , as it applies to all men. most all men who are married really have done so well above their heads.

i love women. i spend most of my days around women at work. i hear their stories, their jokes, and their concerns. women can be alot of fun. i have never outgrown the habit of girl - watching. a friend of mine named scott (age- 65) told me that this voyeuristic practice may never grow old, as he is still a strong practitioner. i guess there is nothing wrong with appreciating God's creations as long as it doesn't devolve into lust, stalking, or a restraining order. but, i digress.

the woman i'm really talking about is the one who keeps my house clean when i'm too lazy to do it. she reminds me of my weakness when i get a little too big in the head. she braces me when i am falling, then lifts me back up. this is the woman who conceived my child, bore him to fruition, and nursed him at her breast. what do i have to offer as recompense? i truly don't know. watching those events was the lynchpin in securing my fidelity to her.

i think all women have this potential in their core. i have known many who seem beyond this kind of benevolence, but if we were able to scrape off the barnacles, fill the tires to proper inflation, and buff out the rough edges; i would wager any could become the woman God created her to be. at least i hope this postulate is true. who can make her so? is this the duty we all share? we owe it to each other and to ourselves. so here's to scraping, filling and buffing. so to speak.

yeah, they're all welcome here

the white socks just won the series. congratulations, joe.

food for thought

as is often the case, i had a strange, but predictable experience today.

generally speaking, i don't really like people very much. a person, yes. i will usually enjoy our time together; but , get too many people in one place and all i can do is notice the things i dislike and wish i were anywhere else. i don't usually start to panic or anything, but it has happened. people- when gathered in groups- tend to be loud, talk about stupid crap that makes me ill, and laugh about the most inane, idiotic, trite "jokes" in an attempt to appear to be having a good time. it just drives me nuts, and i HAVE to escape- even if it's only into my own mind. if i'm starting to sound like ted kaczynski, you aren't the first to notice the similarity.

once every three weeks, i volunteer at the hays county food bank. i go on wednesday nights, and we meet at a local community hall. local restaurants and grocery stores donate their unusable perishable foods to the food bank and i get the opportunity to help distribute these items to people from the local area who are truly in need. it is a great gesture on the part of the donating businesses; but, perhaps not as altruistic as it may appear. do they help feed the poor and desperate of america? absolutely. but they also are able to take a pretty nice tax deduction on perishable materials they were going to be unable to use in any profitable way. it is a wash in my mind, but i bet the folks that are able to eat tonight are thanking God for heb and its corporate generosity.

i got to the work place a little early (as requested) and i had about 20 minutes to kill before the recipients were allowed to enter the hall and begin accepting what food we had to offer. in the 20 minute interlude, there is really nothing to do -just sit and wait. there were about 12 people volunteering tonight, and as we waited, they all seemed to fall into full drivel and vapidity mode. (is that a valid conjugation? if not it should be.) here i am, trying to be a humanitarian and i'm starting my panic cycle. as i listen the buzz of vacuous babble in my ears , i am feeling the disgust and horror rise in my throat. i am really in the moment, so while these things are happening, i am also repulsed with myself for having these selfish, arrogant feelings and thoughts in this place and at this time. be that as it may, i couldn't help it. it's amazing how many simultaneous functions your mind is capable of registering. as this was going on, mr edwards walked my way. "oh good Lord. please don't come talk to me." he did. as i said earlier, one on one, i do very well; so his friendliness actually got me talking and out of potential- vomit mode. we chatted for a few minutes until the time was up and we had to get to work.

as i handed out food to these people i felt my whole feeling of self-interest float off of my shoulders. looking in their eyes and watching their children, i got an updated view of what really is important. these are real people. they are very grateful for whatever is distributed. i watched one man ask how to register (as he had just moved to town) and then helped him as he, his wife, and their two kids went through the line to get a little bit of food to help them get through. how difficult and pride-depleting must their situation be? i am fortunate in that i don't know. i have been friends with people in such abject poverty, need, and hopelessness that i could barely comprehend it. but, i have never had to experience it. most of the people at the site tonight are "normal" looking people. they aren't homeless. they aren't crazy. they don't stink, or drool, or talk to themselves. they are just down on their luck, or between work, or working in a place that just doesn't provide enough for their needs. they're not too much different from you or me. we've just been more lucky.

serving another is the most effective way to forget my own problems and find gratitude for everything i have. it's alot. it becomes very easy in our culture to lament over the things we don't have and covet the lifestyle a rung or two up from our own. rather than spending our lives feeling content, too often we expend way too much energy trying to increase possessions and quality of possessions at the expense of that which is truly important. how sad. i have so much, and i thank the Lord for it. why is this lesson so easy to forget?

dueling banjos and homemade moonshine

two important parts of my world have converged today and shown me how small and insignificant i am. i hate it when that happens.

i am a texan. if i understand correctly, the first members of my family to move to texas did so in the early 1860's. i believe i am a 7th generation texan. one of my progenitors is john c. hill. he came to wimberley in the latter 19th century as a fugitive. he was wanted in arkansas for horse thievery ;and, promptly packed up, changed his name, and moved to the lawless country of central texas. to his credit, he changed his life, as well as his name, and became a respectable member of the fledgling community of wimberley. he was elected to the first school board in the area and is buried in the wimberley cemetery. a few years ago, charlotte gave me a great gift. it's a map of hays county produced by the general land office. it shows ownership of all the parcels of land in the county as constituted in september 1877. there are about a dozen names on the map i recognize as my progenitors. i'm from here, i love it here, and i'm not going anywhere. my wife's story is similar, though her family got here earlier than mine.

i read. i watch. i also listen, think, talk, and wonder. i like to know things. there is not much that shames me more than to be completely ignorant on a given subject. there are endless subjects wherein these opportunities are available, but it ticks me off every time. i seek knowledge and understanding for knowledge's sake; but, i also try to be informed so i can make a judgment based on something other than arbitrary grasping.

the perfect storm: jackson has always been taught to get rid of toys when new ones are coming. our house is not big, and we don't have the room. more to the point- he doesn't need one of every toy; especially when it comes to things that are never used, and won't be missed. we usually take these toys down to a local resale shop. it is a form of recycling, and he gets some money to save and spend. today we traded in some toys and ended up bringing home some cash- and some dominoes.

growing up where i did, i learned to play two kinds of domino games : domino and 42. it took a while to really learn 42, as the older generation wouldn't allow us kids anywhere near these highly-revered symbols of the days past. i was in my late , late teens before i was ever invited to sit. but, i was, and i learned to love the game. domino is easier. even a yokel from arkansas can figure out how to count high enough to play this simple game, while "blind nello" and "84" are terms that would cause your average razorback to run home to the matrimonial arms of his sister and the familiar aroma of cooter pie cooking in the oven. jackson's great- great grandmother polly has been playing domino with him for about a year, now ; and, we decided it was time for jackson to own his own set of "bones." ok. not bones, but a cheap set of plastic dominoes appropriate for a 5 year old.

jackson and i got home from the toy store , removed the cellophane from his new dominoes, and spilled them on the floor. after jackson shuffled the dominoes, we each chose our allotment of seven. i had to look twice as i saw that several of mine had 7, 8, or 9 marks on one end. what in the heck?! dominoes come in denominations this high? that danged john c. hill ! that hillbilly couldn't count to 9, so he taught his family to use the arkansas-made version that only go up to 6. boy, do i feel dumb. what else is out there that is going to completely befuddle me one day? man, i hate this feeling.

archaic reference come full-circle

last night, i invoked the name of admiral richard byrd in a feeble attempt to equate my sleeping in the yard with his traversing the frozen continent of antarctica. a bit of a stretch, to be sure. accordingly, the fates have frowned upon my narcissism. when i clicked on my dashboard today, my "famous birthdays" widget informed me that today is the good explorer's birthday. as he was born in 1888, he would be 117 today. happy birthday, sir. consider my tail duly set between my legs.

testes optional

you may have gathered that i love to be outside. i love to sleep outside. to paraphrase: when was the last time you slept out under the stars.... well mister , that's too long. the only problem i have ever found with central texas is that for too much of the year, it is too hot to sleep out. if the temperature is higher than 73 at night, i am sweating and staring; not sleeping and snoring. this is why it is imperative that i remove myself to more temperate climates (generally higher altitudes) a few times a year. i must get my fix of open-air sleeping. you have your idiosyncrasies, i have mine.

tonight the over-night temperature is meant to be 36. since "they" are usually wrong; it may not descend quite that far. nevertheless, it will be cold out. i live about 7 miles from the closest town and 50 miles from the closest urban landscape. as such, the stars at night....well, you get the idea. there is not a cloud in the sky tonight. guess what i'm gonna do?

i set up my cot and a sleeping bag in the front yard. not very adventurous , i agree; but the celestial view and the depth of the cold (by our texas standards) will placate a simple fool like me. and, with our water fountain trickling, i can almost pretend i'm on a mountain next to a running stream. i only hope it doesn't get any lower than 36, or i may freeze off the aforementioned body parts.

admiral richard byrd? now who's he?

elton, and ellen, and rupaul, oh my!

it's just about time for us to come out of the wood-work and decide the future of the free world. i bet you didn't know that much pressure was on your shoulders; but, it is.

america is overly concerned about homosexuals. i hear they are different from us and we need to decide what to do with them. and decide what they are allowed to do with themselves. in two weeks (8 nov) we texans will be called to the polls to decide the outcome of several propositions. the proposal getting the most publicity these days is proposition 2. proposition 2 -if passed- would allow for the creation of an amendment to the texas constitution that would definitively state that marriage (as defined by the state of texas) is a union between one man and one woman. sorry, homos - one of each. sorry rulon jeffs and flds- ONLY one of each. sorry aggies -both parties must be human (no farm animals.) never mind that so-called same sex marriage is already illegal in texas. apparently, laws on the books aren't what they once were. they aren't enforced strictly enough and are given to too much interpretation. the electorate generally doesn't come out in a non- presidential/non- gubernatorial election cycle, but i expect the turnout to be very high. as i said, we're pretty concerned about these folks and lots of people will feel the need to express themselves.

i am sorry to say that i am undecided as to where my vote will end up being cast. as always, there are two sides in my purview.

the religion i profess is very conservative. it is the doctrine of our religion that homosexuals must repress the desires in their bodies and hearts and remain virtuous. one is not allowed to have sexual relations with anyone to whom the one is not married. gay couples aren't legally allowed to marry, so you do the math. homosexuality is expressly forbidden in the bible; and as such, it is not the place for us to redefine the will of God. supporters of these amendments (nation-wide) cite the need to preserve the "sanctity of marriage." how much sanctity can an institution contain when half of all these arrangements dissolve into divorce? when one can legally enter and annul such a relationship -while intoxicated- all in the course of one weekend (britney spears, et al.) or when the legal and religious authorities performing said ritual are vested with only enough authority to assure the marriage until "death do you part." how sacred is something not recognized by Diety for longer than 50 or 60 years? my church is rarely involved in supporting political movements. i can think of only one other time in the history of this church when the church, itself, requested that its members vote for or against any political measure. they feel strongly enough about this issue to inform the members as to the church's official position ,and request that we vote accordingly.

on the other hand, we're not talking about religion here, we're talking government - a civil arrangement that will allow all people the financial and legal rights afforded to the married class. joint property-ownership, child protection, estate planning, and health benefits are only a few of the arenas in which gays in america are on an unbalanced plane. many of my friends are gay ; and, i would think they would be able to have every opportunity i am afforded as a straight man. this is the "land of opportunity." are we not all "created equal" with certain "inalienable rights?" where do the constitution or declaration cite homosexuals as exempt from the "blessings of liberty?" don't get me wrong. given to consideration, the highly religious founding brothers would probably have gone jerry falwell on the subject. they couldn't even decide if a black man was a real person, or just a little more than half of one. but, they made no exceptions. all seem to be guaranteed these rights.

i hope to think that my marriage would be no less sacred just because adam and steve are married by a preacher of some religion i consider to be inadequate, anyway. what difference do they make in MY life? none. i don't really care what they do, just as i don't care what you do with the person you love, dear reader. all i can hope for is that we all find someone to love, hold that person close to us, and love that person for the rest of our time together. we should all be as lucky.

as for my vote. i still don't know.. i believe in "live and let live" and am , generally pro-choice across the board. if you stay out of my home and life, i promise to remain out of yours. on the other hand, i find it pretty difficult to believe i would vote in contrast to the explicit counsel of my chosen religious leaders. i guess i have two weeks to decide.

dirty old man...or...a good time was had by all, part deux

one day charlotte and i will be old. i imagine us having a big party on our 50th anniversary. this seems entirely possible to me as i will be only 71, and she 73. at said party, i'm going to sing her a song while others are eating their barbeque. this song is one of my absolute favorite songs sinatra put out. i speak with some authority, as i own about 70 of his albums. the lyrics still make me laugh, and i love it because it is the quintessential sinatra attitude put to music. i've included the lyrics for your viewing pleasure. don't look for an invitation to the party too soon, they won't go out for a while.

I LOVE MY WIFE

My thoughts may stray
My eyes may roam
The neighbor's grass may seem much greener
Than the grass right here at home

If pretty girls excite me
Well, that's life
But just in case, you didn't know
I love my wife

My mind at times
May dwell on sex
If someone's rating dreams
Then most of mine I guess are double X

So dimpled knees delight me
Well, that's life
But just in case, you hadn't heard
I love my wife

Like bait that wriggles
And it makes catfish bite
A lady jiggles
And my eyes gotta light
Upon so sweet a sight

And if I shake
Break out in spots
Don't fret, it's not swine fever dear
Your swine has merely got the hots

If rosy lips invite me
Well, that's life
But just in case, you couldn't guess
I love my wife

My mind at times
May dwell on sex
If someone's rating dreams
Then most of mine I guess are double X

If rosy lips invite me
Well, that's life
But just in case, you couldn't guess
Or hadn't heard
Or didn't know
I love my wife
I love my wife
I love my wife

a good time was had by all

charlotte and i grew up together. we never dated until we were in our early twenties, but we have known each other for almost thirty years. her step-father raised his family in wimberley; too, so i grew up with all of my wife's step brothers and sister ,too. this is really weird because everyone knows everyone and everyone else's stories.

charlotte is going through old photos tonight. she got into scrapbooking about a year ago, and now she is photo-obsessed. she has been showing me pictures of her and her friends in elementary school who are (obviously) people with whom i went to elementary, also. it has been a night of laughing and telling "do you remember?" stories. this is one of the great things about growing up together : the parts of the stories i've forgotten, she remembers; and vice- versa.

we have been married for over 14 years. our anniversary is june 6th. you may know this date as the anniversary of d-day, or as the birthday of damien thorn. even so, it has not proven to be an omen of doom for us. at the beginning, you may have suspected otherwise. we had a very difficult time getting used to each other. we seem to have very little in common. our interests are not the same. our tastes in music are contrary. she is super-ambitious and very organized. me- not so much. i love the outdoors and she loves to watch me go outdoors. she won't swim in anything that's not got a regulated chlorine count. as i think of it, i am not sure how we ended up together. our first date took place at one of my brother's basketball games. i spent a good amount of time explaining the rules of the game and trying to pretend she was grasping it. she might as well have told me she had never heard of abraham lincoln. but, she was so good looking that i decided to overlook her obvious flaws of character and give her as many chances as it would take. apparently, she had the same thoughts.

what we do have in common is the memory of how much we love each other, and the knowledge that we both want to keep our marriage fun and secure. that's the only real commonality required for a happy relationship. that, and reciprocity.

fourteen years is a long time. it has not always been easy to keep it together. usually, the breakdown of relation has been of my doing, but this street does have a yellow line. i guess what i'm saying is that i love my wife. there are times in life that a simple statement like that is hard to vocalize with real conviction. we all have certain days which are bad, and they can turn into weeks and months of indifference if allowed to fester. the greatest lesson i've learned from my experience is that problems between us don't get resolved through a pissing match. we tried that and ended up separated. that was the worst day of my life. fortunately, she has learned the same lessons and we try to keep each other happy.

i never want to be without her and hopefully i never will. i love you, sweet girl.

it ain't back in the day; but you don't hear me, though

we went to the state fair last weekend. as always, we went with neil and melissa. they are always kind enough to let us stay with them when we come to dallas and we reward them by letting our son destroy a thing or two during our stay. thanks, brother.

last year, jackson won a basketball in one of the games on the midway. many of the games are a rip-off. check that. all the games on the midway are -by definition- a racket, but some of them actually afford the opportunity for a win. one of these is the basketball shoot. jackson won a ball there last year, and he's been talking about winning another one every day since. of course we stopped at the first booth we saw. jackson had just been stung on his shooting hand by a bee, so i wasn't sure he was going to do very well. being mr. sensitive dad; i didn't want to have him lose after all the expectation. his hand still hurt, and it was swollen and red. i bought him three balls for 5 dollars and he stepped up to the line. i should have known he would still sink two out of three. he picked out the money ball and then got talked into trying to upgrade to the oversize ball. hello ,five more dollars. goodbye, five more dollars. this time fortune got the better of him and he went 0 for 3. to tell the truth i was pretty relieved, as i wasn't at all interested in carrying that big thing around for the rest of the day.

growing up, basketball was always the second religion in our home. i can't even remember a time when i wasn't watching, practicing, playing, or talking hoop. my parents met at a basketball game, and my wife and i had our first date at one of my brother's games. sports is the common thread woven through the cloth that is my family. basketball is that golden thread that provides accent and definition. my brother and i used to spend hours every day over at the park by our home, endlessly shooting. my dad still has a few of his old trophies around the house ,somewhere. high scorer, mvp , all tournament. i remember going with my dad to watch him play. he was really good. neil and i got some good genetic hoop ability; but, we sure spent a lot of time trying to turn that into real talent. i love it , still.

getting older really sucks. what feeble skills i once possessed are now fading away like the color of our sofa. not enough at once to be really noticed; but, when compared to a distinct memory, the vividness is glaringy absent. my son loves basketball, and he is really good. i hope that continues , as i will soon be relegated to living the hoop life through his experience. here's hoping his fun helps my memories remain fresh for me. good luck, jackson.

yo! homes! smell you later.

i have been thinking about personal fragrance lately. you know it as the liquid you splash or spray on your body in an effort to make everyone think you smell better than you do. we all know better. if you are lucky, your body emits such little odor (ok. aroma. do you fell better? ) that it is almost undetectable. unfortunates smell like a double-cheeseburger with extra onions chased with a greasy slice of pepperoni only 30 minutes after emerging -freshly scrubbed- from the shower. i guess we employ it in an effort to attract the opposite sex. or at least we won't offend everyone else in the elevator. so, now that you realize you need to mask yourself- what to do?

my first recollection of cologne comes from when i was a boy. my mom sold avon for about 20 minutes one time. my family sucks in the area of personal sales. it's just a genetic disconnect. what are you gonna do? so, avon used to sell this stuff that came in a glass bottle shaped like a deussenburg. a discriminating young man (like me) would remove the spare tire from the rear of the car, spill some of this crap all over himself, and cough half the way to school. see, the fumes were toxic in large amounts. sort of like the turpentine-based stuff sam malone used to such great effect on the women of boston. on the other hand, of you own a sailboat, it would be a great solvent for stripping the deck.

in middle and high schools, everyone was wearing cologne. you surely couldn't leave the house "naked." how embarrassing. it seemed like almost everyone on my football team wore "polo." our locker room and school were rank with it. i never understood why you would want to smell like everyone else. so i wore chaps, and obsession, and paco rabanne. not all at the same time. at 19, i went on a two year mission for my church, and i didn't see much use in wasting the money and cologne on people who would never be near enough to smell it , anyway. when i came home, i wore some lemon- based thing that i stole from my brother (sorry, dude.) it was great. i've never smelled so clean. when it ran out, i didn't know where to get more, so i went back to paco. over the subsequent years, i've tried several -more expensive - offerings from chanel and givenchy. very nice, but nothing i fell in love with.

frank sinatra wore the same thing for decades. agua lavanda it's called. i've never smelled it , but i think it's from avon. at 30$ for 7 oz. , it very well might be. besides, what comes in a 7 oz. bottle that you don't pour over ice and drink? maybe he was on the right track. maybe i need a signature fragrance that i'd wear every day, you'll not likely smell on someone else, and will leave you remembering me and not my natural scents.

lately i've come full circle and returned to the friendly confines of paco rabanne. the only problem is that i can only find it at heb. when in the world did i think i would ever buy fragrance at a grocery store? at least i don't buy it at the discount- it could be worse. it's really pretty low quality stuff. the fragrance wears off too soon; and it doesn't come in a parfum, only in a toilette. that'll be ok. i used to read that the only person who should get more than just a hint of your fragrance is one lucky enough to be snuggled up close. i guess i'll just have to wear a little extra when the weather turns cold. then again, that chanel i tried the other day was lovely. here we go again.

weekend in new england...errrr...dallas

on the way home from dallas this sunday night we stopped in waco. it was about 8:00, or so, and jackson was hungry. i still thought i was going to puke my guts out from all the crap we ate this weekend, but charlotte said she could handle some supper ,too. we eat at taco cabana about 5 times a week, so there was no real decision to be made. accordingly, i know where a tc can be found at almost all times. the one in waco, near the university, is a bit sub-standard; but, it placated the j-man, so all was well.

as we pulled back onto i35, i started scanning for music. waco's selections are few -what would you expect- and i was about to give up when i came across some barry manilow- at the copa, copa cabana. my mom really likes barry, and when i was a kid i listened to this dreck daily. i say dreck in an effort to afford this creation it's proper due; but, i actually still love it. not enough to own any barry cd's, but enough to get excited when his vocal manure oozes out of the local radio stations playlist. i turned him up just in time to sing along as lola lost youth and she lost her tony and she lost her mind. it was dark enough that i couldn't see the look on charlotte's face; but' i'm sure she was staring , wondering - once again- about my sexuality. at this point, jackson caught on to what song was on the radio. "dad! that's cool! taco cabana is on the radio, and we're eating taco cabana right now!" if only for an evening, all the cosmic tumblers had clicked into place for my little boy.

isn't that the movie where everyone is martin sheen's son, but no one has the same last name?

i watched "young guns" today. don't ask me why. i just like it. all those 80's pseudo brat-packers running around new mexico still captures my imagination. when the movie came out, i had just finished high school, and still thought these guys were good actors. ah, youth.

on the off chance you don't know, "young guns" is the story of billy the kid, john tunstall, the murphy/dolan gang, and the lincoln county war. what i didn't know at first viewing is that the movie is pretty correct, historically. well, history with a healthy side order of cheese.

i love history. i really love to go to the actual places where historical events took place. to walk in the same streets as the people who made our world what it is today is one of my favorite vacation catalysts. my favorite historical era is that of america in the 19th century. most especially the america that was the western frontier. much of what happened in the west appeals to me because of it's freshness. alot of that world had not yet been seen by white men, the rules of society hadn't migrated yet, and there was unlimited opportunity and beauty available to the man willing to pursue it. along with that went unknown violence, corruption and destruction. maybe that destruction is why i hold it in such a romantic view- much of that wildness is forever gone.

a few years ago, i got to go to lincoln, new mexico. the first thing that struck me about this mecca of frontier history is its size. or lack thereof. it is one little street about 1/2/ mile long. not any bigger than it was in the 1870's. in this little place, so much fame was found and made. billy the kid became a house-hold name because of the events that took place here. and i walked those streets, i sat in his former prison cell, i browsed in the tunstall store where he shopped, and saw the site of the mcswain house that billy fled in a haze of gun-fire.

don't get me wrong- billy was no hero. he was a semi-retarded, lawless, illiterate, life-long criminal and a murderer. i don't know what he ever did to make the world a better place. well, he did do alot of crazy stuff that turned this little crap town in new mexico into the destination of pilgrimage. and for that, i thank him.

believe me sweetie, i got enough to feed the needy

i came this close to becoming a chef. (pointer and thumb held together at a 1/8 inch distance.)

when i was in high school, my mom was a sous-chef for a local restaurant. it was weird coming home from practice and finding dinner on the table. i was just as likely to be beans and sopapillas as it was to be blackened fillet of shark (or whatever else might have been left over from the restaurant.) as i was down at the restaurant alot, i got to see a bit of the workings of a restaurant. i should tell you that i started working in restaurants at the age of 14. my first was la tuna. it was a crappy mexican place on the square; but, as i got a free dinner every night, it was great. like most, i started at the bottom - dish washer. you know that feeling your hands get when you've been in the water all day? mine felt like that all day long. even on days off. the best day on that job was the day the cook came yelling through the restaurant, drunk. and waving around a hand gun as he threatened to kill marilyn the owner. this should have provided a type of foreshadowing to my young eyes.

the more restaurants i worked in , the more i began to recognize that the people behind the scenes seem to fit a certain profile. except for mom, of course. the people i knew were alcoholics, drug addicts, degenerate gamblers, sexual deviants and those who didn't have anywhere else to go. not everyone in a kitchen is like this, but they sure do cast an overwhelming shadow over the rest. obviously this type of behavior wasn't what dissuaded me from culinary school (hair dressers make cooks seem positively mainstream.) when i was contemplating this decision, i was newly married. a chef worth a darn is working exactly when i didn't want to be- nights, weekends, holidays. i wanted to be with my wife and potential family as much as possible , and this schedule didn't seem to fit my ideas. so, we ditched our plans to move to belgium, and i started thinking again.

i still love to cook. i love to find a great new recipe and see what i can do with it. even better, i like to take that recipe and change it to make it somewhat more personal. i think i do pretty well. it is unusual for me to be too displeased, and others are kind enough to stroke my ego. at the very least, i know the donner party would be sure to eat up. the main thing about a fine meal is the presentation. of course the ingredients are more expensive than what i typically buy; but, it is all in the show. what gets me excited about great food are the sight and smell. those are the first impressions. those are the things one would learn in culinary school or after a lifetime of cooking in a restaurant.

i am just finishing a book called "kitchen confidential." it is authored by anthony bourdain, and it confirms my decision not to choose that career. he describes his progression from overwhelmed line cook to world-traveling three-star chef. the hours he keeps are ridiculous. his days are typically 17 hours. while i'm writing this retrospective, he is up to his eyes in truffles, butter, and the ramones. but , he loves it and that's what matters. i guess i'll be content with what might have been, and feel placated by my mediocre offerings from the kitchen. fortunately for me my wife is always hungry and happy with my meager talents.

me love you long time

i guess thirty years is not enough to let go of a grudge. i read today that yoko ono recently received an award on the behalf of her late husband, john lennon. you remember john, he was that guy who wrote all of those great songs. the music he created inspired and changed a generation. perhaps, it serves as the background music to your life. i'd say it would be difficult to hear any of his music and, not only recognize it; but have it bring memories to your mind. while his words and music were brilliant on his own, i believe his best work was done when with paul, george, and ringo- "imagine" notwithstanding.

back to yoko: at the awards ceremony this week she intimated that the reason musicians cover paul mccartney's music more than john's is that paul's music is so simple. maybe she's right. maybe his was the inferior talent. while john seemed intent on changing the world and worshipping his wife through his music, paul seemed content with some clever lyrics and a killer hook. maybe he was having too much fun to become a revolutionary. as it is, i know he is a cultural icon the world over. he has been considered a musical hero for over 40 years.

at every opportunity it seems that yoko is praising her late husband at the expense of the other beatles. john is generally regarded as the catalyst of the group, but i can't imagine the band being anywhere as successful with any of the parts absent. even his formidable talent couldn't carry that band on its own. perhaps yoko is only trying to divert attention from the popular opinion that it was her that caused the dissolution of the greatest band of all. iv'e read accounts that they were all getting ready to move on with their lives anyway, but her shrill presence couldn't have helped. she must be one heck of a wonderful woman in person, because i don't get it. looks aren't everything, but hers were never anything. i don't mean to impugn her musical talent; but, the time i heard her sing , i had to look up to make sure the nazgul weren't pursuing me across pellennor fields. and that whole thing about her trying to exclude julian makes me want to puke my guts out. it seems she is trying too hard. it is not as if any of us were going to forget the genius that was john lennon. his music was enough, but his death at the hands of mark chapman sealed his fate as musical paragon.

as for me, put me down as a paul kind of guy. i love john's music, and his thumbing of his nose at the counter-revolutionary movement of the 60's and 70's is brilliance - "revolution". but i liked paul better. he seemed to always be trying to have a good time with his music and his ability to create music in so many different groupings of talent is admirable. just don't get me started on linda's singing voice,though. god rest her soul.

o-who?

as is often the case, my plans ended up being for naught. yesterday ended as being much different than i had planned. i planned on working a bit saturday morning and rushing home to catch the texas-ou game. it was the 100th meeting of these two all-time programs. texas held a 56-39-5 all-time record; but, the sooners had won the previous 5. with texas ranked # 2 in the country, this game was even bigger for ut than it usually is.

i hate ou. it is really a strange thing to hate everything about a university and its state, but i do. their coach, bob stoops, is one of the best football coaches in the game. as much as he is talented as a coach, he appears to be a better man. it would be hard to cheer against him but for his current job. some really good friends of mine are from and root for oklahoma. the kids on the football team are just that- kids. it doesn't seem right to have such ill will toward kids just trying to grow up and have fun playing football. nevertheless, i hate ou. where it all comes from, and exactly to whom the feeling is directed, are unanswerable questions to me. but, the result will not change.

back to me: i ended up working more than an hour later than anticipated. by the time i got in my car, the first quarter was just ending. yesterday was also linus' birthday party. linus is in jackson's kindergarten class, and is jackson's best friend. when i found out his party began at 1:00, i asked charlotte," who schedules their kids party in the middle of texas-ou?" she replied that apparently linus' mom does. when charlotte suggested that i just go home and watch the second half of the game, i really only thought about it for a second or two before i decided to stay with my family and go to the party. the party was at linus' house, so surely the game would be on in the house anyway. two birds and all that. we ended up in the back yard with no tv in sight. on the bright side ,the guy from "weird science" -or wherever- was fun and showed us some cool experiments. i did keep up with the score via the web access on my phone. "i love technology."

as it turned out, texas won 45-12 and i saw exactly 0% of the game . i didn't miss a thing. some things are just not that important when compared to time with my wife and kid.

hiding from myself

i had a crap day today. as this happens to me so rarely, i'm not really sure how to react. i think i'll display the lyrics to an irving berlin song that will say it for me. if you get the chance to hear sinatra's version of this - do so. it's perfect for a day like today:



All alone, I'm so all alone
There is no one else, but you
All alone, by the telephone
Waiting for a ring-a-ting-a-ling

I'm all alone, every evening
All alone, feeling blue

Wondering (I wonder) where you are
And how you are
And if you are - all alone too

there was one?

this is a very exciting day for me. tonight was the opening night of this year's nhl season. and in related news: i trimmed my toenails today and had a taco for lunch. if you hold a hockey league in the forest, and no one is there to watch it ; does it make any noise? don't feel bad. i didn't think so either.

right through the very heart of it, new york, new york

i'm watching the yankees game tonight. they are playing the angels in game one of the alds. for the moment, the yanks are up 4-0. it's up to you, new york.

the first team i ever remember watching was the new york yankees. when i was a boy, they were not only the best team in the league; they were the most fun to watch. reggie jackson, catfish hunter, thurman munson, don't even get me started with billy martin. they were nicknamed " the bronx zoo. " it seems there was always some shenanigan or another going in the bronx in the late 70's. steinbrenner, billy, and reggie were embroiled in a love triangle that went the other way. someone was always calling out one of the others in the newspapers. billy would get fired, reggie would hit a homerun, and steinbrenner would buy a free agent to shore up something. through it all, they just kept winning. invariably, they would play in the series and - more often than not- they would win.

of course, i knew all about the history of the yankees. the history of the yankees is almost synonymous with the history of baseball. mccarthy, ruth, gehrig, stengel, berra , dimaggio, ford, mantle, maris, rizzuto; these were many of the greatest players of all time, and they all played in yankee stadium. a list of yankee championships takes a long time to digest.

in my teens, the yankees were awful. george thought he was the manager of the team and really succeeded in screwing up a good thing. i really loved willie randolph and dave winfield. don mattingly is one of my all time favorites, but watching them lose so much for so long was torturous. donny baseball never even got to play a post-season game.. where's the justice in that? all in all, they remained my favorite team.

well, we all know the yankees have come full circle and are back on top. they are in a real dry spell after not winning a championship in the last 4 years. people love to hate the yankees. they spend too much money. they're on tv too much. they're the "evil empire." to this i say," hey, if your team was anywhere as good, they would have the money to spend, people would want to watch them on tv, and we would care about who else is in the playoffs." without the yankees, the playoffs just aren't really as exciting. admit it - love them or hate them , when the yankees are playing, they get your attention. come to think of it, the yankees ARE major league baseball. put that in your pipe and smoke it.

a bit of trivia: after every home game, the yankee p.a. system blares "new york, new york." when they win, you are treated to frank sinatra belting out one of his favorite songs. when the yankees lose, you get liza minelli's version (which is the original recording.) you do the math.

by the way, the sox lost 14-2 today. good riddance. i hate you idiots, and your penis- envy organization , and especially your stupid fans. i miss the curse.

forget about it, but, don't forget

every so often charlotte asks me for a little help with one of her projects from work. she is a librarian in an elementary school in austin. i suppose that since i am such a voracious blowhard, i think i'll know just what to do to make things right. even though i am unqualified and have no experience, i am sure i'll be right. sounds like 43, doesn't it? maybe i should run for president. she asked me for some help last night. doing so got me to thinking. imagine that.


charlotte wanted to create a power point to use in teaching her classes about the book "the shot heard 'round the world" by phil bildner. it's a story i know well as it is based on the most famous homerun in the history of baseball. although i never saw him play, willie mays is -perhaps- my favorite ball player ever. he had as much, if not more, talent as anyone who ever played. he always presented himself with dignity, and really seemed to love baseball. he was a winner. from reading stories of his life and career, i came to learn of this storied homerun and game.


on aug 11 1951, the giants trailed the dodgers by thirteen 1/2 games for the national league pennant. at the end of the regular season, the yankees had won the american league, and the giants and dodgers were tied in the nl. all three teams were then located in new york city, so the excitement was palpable. the two nl teams would play a three game playoff for the pennant. after the first two games, they were still tied; so it came to the 157th game before the decision could finally be made. october 3, 1951: going into the bottom of the 9th inning at the polo grounds, the dodgers were leading 4-2 when monte irvine came to the plate with two on and no outs. he didn't get a hit; so with one out, bobby thomson stepped into the box. with the count 0-1, ralph branca threw a strike that thomson tatooed over the left field wall. that was it. with one swing, the giants had completed a crushing season-long comeback of the hated dodgers and sent them back to vero beach to await the spring. the radio call of russ hodges' constant repetition of "the giants win the pennant! the giants win the pennant!" is one of the most famous sporting broadcasts ever recorded. this homerun is consistently voted the most famous homerun ever hit and is always referred to as the "shot heard round the world." my hero willie was in the on deck circle desperately hoping he wouldn't have to come to the plate. bobby saved his bacon.

there have been a couple of documentaries produced sharing the name "when it was a game." the documentaries present video, stories and music from the baseball of days gone by. i love them. those guys seem to really be having alot of fun. for better or worse, the "good old days" are always remembered with unwavering adulation and reverence. not just in baseball, but nearly all subjects. i guess the reason we do so is that we generally choose to remember the best of times when we reminisce. who wants to remember mccarthyism when we can remember buddy holly and elvis? the events of today are fresh in our minds, and our minds are full of worry and stress. we often hear the worst side of most issues, and the "news" we intake is really just the most shocking tragedies of the day passed off as a commentary on the status quo. being so encumbered, a wistful view of the past seems only natural.

my favorite movies are generally those made over 40 years ago. i don't think i can tell you much about one single tv show currently on network tv. i'm actually quite proud of that...bully for me. you'll find music in my collection originally recorded in the 30's, but i won't recognize much of anything on popular radio. sinatra is my favorite and, obviously, no one recording today can begin to sniff his talent or dedication. although i buy newly published books all the time, they are almost always focused on events of the distant past. without doubt, current pop culture holds no allure for me. i'm actually watching "high society" while writing this.

i'm not sure what to think of all this. surely i wouldn't have wanted to live through the depression, the wars ,or the pre-air conditioning era. my asthma medications alone make me so appreciative of the times in which i live. modern-day antibiotics literally saved my wife's life 3 years ago. we live in a most magnificent time of the world's history; so, i guess i'm saying i like looking at my cake and eating it ,too. this is the good fortune in which i am enveloped : holding the current world culture in contempt while enjoying the fruits of its labor. what a wonderful country.

cheer,cheer for ol' notre dame

there is a well-publicized story being told everywhere these days; so, why should i be left out? the sad thing is that the principles involved - initially - didn't want the story made public. as i have seen them both retelling, i feel no shame in repeating my version here.

2 weeks ago, in indiana, a young boy named montana mazurkeiwicz made a dying wish. montana had an in-operable brain tumor. it had been destroying his body at least since its discovery 1 1/2 years ago. montana (named for joe montana) has always been a hard-core notre dame fan. word got to the notre dame football staff that this boy would love to have a player from the irish come visit him in his home. on tuesday the 20 of september, the head coach left his players behind, and came to visit montana himself. he stayed with montana for a few hours that afternoon visiting and talking football. he gave the boy a signed football. just prior to leaving the home, coach weiss asked montana if he would like to do something special, like call a play. the reply was that he would like notre dame's first play of the next game to be a pass to the right. you bet.

2 days later, on thursday night, montana mazurkeiwicz died in his mother's arms. he was 10 years old.


when notre dame got the ball in their first possession that saturday, they were backed up inside their own 1 yard line. everyone knows that a pass almost never is called in this situation. montana's mother (watching the game at home) said she wasn't going to blame coach weiss for not running the play. the risks are too great. when notre dame's quarterback , brady quinn, asked the coach," now what?" ; he was told, " run the play. we don't have any choice." they lined up inside their one, ran a play-action misdirection pass play to the right - and picked up 13 yards. they went on to win 36 - 17.


the day after the game, charlie weiss returned to the mankeiwicz home to give them his condolences, and the ball used in the game montana helped win. all of the notre dame fighting irish had signed the ball.


i have never been a fighting irish fan. they are the most storied program in the history of football, but i don't know that i ever have cheered for them. you can be certain i will be cheering for them every game they play this year and every year that charlie weiss is walking the sidelines in south bend, indiana. a man like that deserves and demands my respect.