March 2004 Archives

We've probably seen our last freeze of the year here in Texas. The sky is clear, blue and sunny. The temperature is a crisp, not-too-humid 70 degrees. If it weren't for all the rednecks in their pickup trucks, and the basically flat prairie that stretches toward the horizon, one could almost pretend to be dwelling in San Francisco during the pretty season.

For the uninitiated, here's a few things about springtime in Texas you probably don't know:

I had the misfortune to catch part of "The Maury Povich" show yesterday – only part of it, because it made me sick to my stomach. Also, it was time for me to run some of my Monday errands (having Mondays off is so cool). The show was about teen-agers who were doing all they could to get pregnant because they wanted babies so so so much. They forgot that they are still babies in so many ways, or that parenthood is not to be used to fill voids in your life; it is best pursued by those who are already complete people (or couples).

The specific topic is beside the point. We as a society, nation and world can attack a variety of problems in an effort to make the world a better place. I'd buy the world a Coke if it helped, but sadly, the problem is more widespread and more entrenched than that of the really young engaging in unprotected sex with dozens of skeezy partners. The real problem runs deeper, and it affects every part of life ... from immoral behavior to murder to theft to whatever.

The problem? (insert loud trumpet noise here, or a gong if you like) ...

I've got a solution to the whole "Pledge of Allegiance" controversy that I'm sure has been thought of, but I've not heard mention of on the news. It is mind-boggling and simple. Here it is: if you are saying the Pledge of Allegiance and don't want to say the "under God" part, then don't say it. Wah-lah!

Having "In God We Trust" on our money and having "under God" in a pledge or allowing prayer in schools does not mean the government is going to make you go to church. The argument that the pledge is often said in school, and anyone who does not say it will be ostracized, well – that's just too bad. Conform, monkeys!

In lieu of that embarrasment, however, here are some other words atheists and other antagonists can substitute in our little pledge so as not to feel left out of the religious experience that is being an American:

Warning: Generation Gap, 16 Year Drop.

Ah, age discrimination. Isn't it great? Seems like no matter what age we are, there's something we want to do that we can't. For babies, it may be reaching that big glass vase full of flowers on the counter. For pre-teens, it may be wanting to drive. For teens, it may be the ability to make one's own choices without facing parental censure. The in-between years, say 21-50, there are all kinds of challenges that have less to do with age. Maybe those in their 50s want to retire, but can't yet. Over 65, basic things in life can start to shut down: our elders may simply want to be able to put their pants on or stay in one lane when they're driving.

I've been thinking about this lately, because the city in which I work is considering a city property-tax freeze for resident homeowners 65 and older (as well as disabled residents of any age). The median age in the city is 37. The majority are children. The battle is over how much a freeze would impact the city's revenues, and whether it's fair to make younger families pick up the slack.

Part One: This is a fake question-and-answer session with famous '80s Russian Cold War-comedian Yakov Smirnoff.

T-Bone: So, Mr. Smirnoff, what have you been up to lately, especially considering that the Cold War has been over for some time now?

Smirnov: I've been doing celebrity pie-eating contests, ribbon cuttings and porn films. Only in America, I say! Usually I do my one-man show in Branson, Missouri, too.

I didn't read this e-mail, but the subject line was awfully intriguing ...

Results so good, you'll need new underwear.

What on Earth are they talking about? Here's some possibilities:

I don’t know how far this story has reached, me living just across the metro area from the scene of the crime, but here it is ...

Last week, a 300-pound gorilla at the Dallas Zoo apparently scaled a wall and escaped from its habitat. Scary, right? Well, then it apparently attacked four people, biting and scratching at least two of them into area hospitals: two adults and two children. Some witnesses tempted nature to help rescue the people under attack, and Dallas police officers rushed to the scene, where they would fatally shoot the large animal ...

It may just be the types of jobs I choose to accept, but it seems like there's a pattern to the workplace that is undeniably similar. And I'm not just talking about two jobs, I'm talking about my entire post-college career (that's six jobs for anyone keeping track).

That may lead us to the rosy conclusion that people are the same everywhere you go. I don't buy that: sure, we've all got something in common, but we are different. To me, it's more settling to know we are individuals in this great big world. Anyhow, here's a list of similar personality traits I've noticed at every job I've had (come to think of it, this includes high school and college part-time jobs as well!) ...

• If you’re going to charge me $1.60 per gallon for gasoline, at least make sure the pump works properly and I don’t have to hold the nozzle to make gas come out.

• If “WASH ME” is written in the dirt on a car’s back window, it should be written backwards so the driver sees it in the rearview mirror. If the “WASH ME” remains for more than two weeks, the driver should lose his or her license.

• If you can’t park it between the lines, you shouldn’t own it.

• If you think you’re so special that you take up three parking spaces on purpose, you should be forced to watch your car used in a crash-test demonstration. Over and over and over.

• If you decide your pickup truck’s bed makes a good trash can, you should be sentenced to six months trash-cleaning duty on the busiest freeway in the world.

• Don’t buy a four-wheel-drive vehicle if your idea of off-roading is driving in the mall parking lot.

• When you decide it’s funny to stick pieces of cheese to your neighbor’s windshield, make sure it’s on a hot, sunny day. Velveeta through the sunroof is another fun game.

• It takes just as long to buy an ugly car than it does to buy a pretty one.

• All bumperstickers should be written in Pig Latin.

• Iya aymay ebay owslay, utbay I’mya aheadya ofya ouya.

It seems to be the little things that bring down giants.

A well-placed stone from David's sling killed Goliath. A large chunk of frozen water sunk the unsinkable Titanic. A little technicality called tax evasion sent gangster Al Capone to prison. It was the ensuing coverup rather than the Watergate break-in that forced Richard Nixon from the White House.

With home decorating maven Martha Stewart, it was the insider dumping of M-Clone stock – a transaction involving a paltry-to-her $40,000 or so – that has put her multi-million-dollar empire in jeopardy and unseated her has Domestic Queen. She is a public figure so many people love to hate, and it's easy to see why. See strived for perfectionism in her products, from her staff and in her life. But that's only what we see or have been told. Nobody is perfect, and so those who strive for perfection and falter are often ridiculed into oblivion. She has built her successful business through hard work, hers and others. She is rich and that also makes her a target. Is that fair?

I don't think so. Here are 10 reasons why Martha Stewart is cool:

Thank you, Blogbound friends, for the well wishes in my time of allergenic hyperbole. I am feeling much better today after a fog-filled Thursday, Friday and Saturday existance – stumbling through life like a hungover partygoer without benefit of potent refreshment.

Now that I'm feeling better, I have a long list of things I need to do. Here's just some of it:

Normally, I don't like to post about when I feel like poo, but here I am doing so now. Something hit me about mid-morning yesterday, knocking me on my rear and sending me home early. I got about zero sleep last night; my mind raced a thousand races and I woke up achy and irritable.

So I am in a foggy haze today. The bright side, and something that has made me feel oh so much better?

The owner/publisher of the newspaper at which I'm employed is great about buying the tools we need to get our jobs done. I'm still trying to convince him that I need a Mini Cooper to do my job well, along with a laptop and maybe a skylight in my office. We are getting a new digital SLR camera in the near future, so I guess I shouldn't feel too bad.

Anyhow, I thought it would be beneficial to have a police scanner in the office. You know, those radio-like things that pick up emergency frequencies. With it, we can be alerted immediately if there is a major accident, fire or other calamity. I hate when something awful happens, but it is our jobs to find out when it does.

After researching the type we would need, and finding a short list of suitable models, one was sitting on my desk the next day. Wah-lah, we're now plugged in to some of the drama that happens in the greater Fort Worth area. This is good and bad, and here are a few reasons why:

If you are a regular driver, I bet you've had this situation: somebody nearly kisses your back bumper, weaves within their lane until passing you is possible, then there's a black billow of smoke from the exhaust as the hurried driver blows by you at the greatest possible speed.

The redeeming result from this display of carbound bravado is that, eight times out of 10, that speeding car wears the signs of previous battles. There are scrapes, dents, missing paint, rusty splotches or trim pieces missing. While I wish no one any ill – even the retards of the road – I smile when I see the damage.

Here's some things to keep in mind if you encounter this driver, or if you are this driver:

For those of us living at Casa del T-Bone, we have declared 2004 "Year of the Yard." I'm not just talking about lawncare here – we have some major landscaping issues to overcome.

In Texas, if a home's foundation is not cared for (and sometimes even if it is), the soil beneath it will shift and yee-yaw the house. Most new home construction is of the slab variety: a poured concrete base that sits directly on the ground. Our house is 40 years old, at which time slab construction was the most common method. The best ways to protect foundations include planting landscaping around the house to encourage watering the soil, and also helping the soil retain moisture.

Guess what? My house didn't have ANY landscaping when we moved in. As a result, the soil has washed away from parts of the house, and we no longer have a home that is perfectly level. Unable to afford foundation repairs right now, I will be constructing many flowerbeds, hauling much dirt and placing many landscaping stones. I will also be digging up many large rocks, as our yard is littered with them.

We hope to have two trees taken out on the east side of the house, which are attacking the roof. Plus, it would be awfully nice to have a nice new driveway that helps pitch some of that water around the house rather than into it. Our property sits on a curve in the road, and everyone else's cigarette butts, soda cans and assorted floating flotsam makes its way to our front door. If the Exxon Valdez had capsized at the corner, most of the oil would cover our sidewalk.

On the other hand, having an uneven foundation ...

Hey, my blog is almost a year old! Yeah, I know, so what? I don't know. Below is an entry from that first month of blogging about a year ago with slightly updated information added paranthetically.

Who is Texas T-Bone? (March 2003)

The one or two people (now the 3 or 4 people) who have read my wonderful witticisms the past couple of days might be thinking, who is this Texas T-Bone guy? The following is kind of a "Wednesday Five" (it's actually Monday now) to help you, whoever you are, get to know me a little better. Hope it's not cheating that I also wrote the questions!

1. Tell me about yourself, T.
I'm a 29-year-old male, (Uh, 30-year-old) married, one son, live in Fort Worth and work in advertising for a large department store chain, but not the one you think (I ditched that monkey stand for a job as editor of a weekly newspaper).

2. Why Texas T-Bone?
Thought I was being clever, but a search on Google proved that there are many clever people in the world going by the name of T-Bone. There are even a few Texas T-Bones out there. Considering that, though, I had already left comments on about 30 blogs under the name Texas T-Bone. I'm actually a native of Virginia, but something like Virginia Ham sounds too feminine and doesn't give people a sense of where I live now. Plus, my given name does start with T. (By now, I've left comments on at least 1,000 blogs, but none lately. Sue me. I'm also No. 1 on many search engines under "Texas T-Bone.")

3. If you were a performing circus animal, what would you be?
Flippy the Wonder Ferret (That's still pretty accurate)

4. What are your passions?
I love the outdoors – running, biking and someday soon I hope, kayaking. My family is up there, too, but I like them better when they're outdoors. Also, photography, road trips and long walks on the beach – in the rain. (I still want a kayak, but maybe a two-person one so the Cutlet can ride with me.)

5. What does the world need most?
A nap. (Some things never change).

Happy Monday, one and all!

The Atkins diet? Puh-lease! Everybody who's anybody knows a body needs carbohydrates to function. Did no one pay attention in biology class? It's all about energy. Athletes in high-energy sports stuff their faces with carbs before big contests. I say that all of us need energy to climb the sheer cliff of life – to overcome the mountain that is living. Have a bagel, it won't kill you!

Now that I'm 30, I've noticed how that magic number has slowed my metabolism a bit (just like everyone said it would, thanks!). I continue to exercise, jogging, biking, abdominal excercises, sad attempts at push-ups, etc., to curb the softening of my mid-section somewhat. Back in my 20s I didn't have to try. I was on the Reporter's Diet and actually lost weight. Moreover, I was a single newspaper reporter, so all my time and eating habits were my own.

Here's what I would eat:

I own my own tuxedo, and yet I get no invitation to the party.

T-Bone would like to thank the Academy for snubbing his short film "The Cutlet Makes a Mud Pie" in its nominations for this year's award spectacle. Guess I should have shot the piece in New Zealand, which I've been told is a beautiful country filled with good-hearted people.

I am one of a handful of people who have no desire to see any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and also could never get into any of the books. Is that a crime, Academy? Is that why you have ignored my body of work (such as 1998's epic "My Chihuahua Bites People on the Ankles and Runs Away")? I'm going back to strictly still photos. It is true I don't watch as many movies as I used to. In fact, I had not seen any of the Best Picture nominees (um, for the past five years), nor have I heard of some of the movies up for honors.

Here's five reasons why movies suck: