September 2004 Archives

This is Texas T-bone and I approved this post.

Let's face it, politics is merely the vehicle in which ideas are driven. Because I believe there is an unwavering right and unwavering wrong, both sides can't be right. The fact that both sides of any argument contain a little bit of wrong doesn't make it right, either. Of all the things to spend time arguing about, who would make the best president is a total waste. A presidency is shaped somewhat by the man, but more by his response to the circumstances. Nobody would have predicted the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, or how President Bush would react to them. No matter who is elected, outside factors will determine success or failure. And it's all subjective.

Here are some things worth arguing about:

Education is awesome, and having it certainly helps us achieve our career goals. But how much of it do we really need?

The Texas public school system is in financial meltdown. Just recently, a judge declared the way our system funds itself unconstitutional and gave lawmakers a year to fix it or else!

Basically, independent school districts levy property taxes. Those with a lot of value in their borders have to share some of their money with poorer districts. Hence the “Robin Hood” nickname of our system. It’s in an attempt to be equitable, but it just sucks the big donkey. Especially those taxpayers who pay large amounts of tax, a lot of it funding education far far away.

I have a fool-proof solution ...

As you can see, the Cutlet really loves his "new" backyard playground set. Our neighbors – who have a 15-year-old daughter – gave it to us (it was built by the people who lived there before them). It needs a lot of work, but thankfully, my father-in-law was willing, able and bored enough to get the project jump-started. Now it just needs a coat of wood sealer and a double swing for the grown-ups.

One of my co-workers' vehicles was in the shop yesterday and I was insanely jealous. She lives close enough to ride her bicycle to the office, and did just that. It made me remember the times I did that at my previous job.

I'd ride my bike to work in the morning, and ride home for lunch. Then I'd take a car back up to work. Momma didn't raise no fool: negotiating rush-hour traffic on a bike is too harrowing. I want to be surrounded by steel at those times!

Now there are 10 miles and several clogged highways between home and work. Biking isn't a viable option, especially because there's no readily available place to shower after such a long ride. I have to drive to work every day (even public transit isn't available). Because I don't talk on a cell phone while I drive, it lets me pay attention and notice the cars around me.

Here's some of the models I've seen lately. Maybe you've seen these cars around you, too, or maybe you own one:

(Deep-fried Twinkie® from here.)

The venerable State Fair of Texas kicks off on Friday, and with it comes the promise of new, interesting and possibly disgusting fair fare to consume.

Most things are bigger here in Texas (including hair and egos), and the fair is no exception. I think it still holds the title of the country’s largest state fair. Woop-de-doo and yee-haw, y’all!

What is there to do at the fair?

My sinuses have been on high alert the past few weeks, with the (slight) cooling of the air, the rampant ragweed and the return of long sleeves (I must be allergic to fabric-covered arms). Weatherwise, we’ve had it weird this summer in my part o' Texas. In contrast to our normal four-month summer, I can remember only three or four days that it was “Africa hot” here. No matter what the thermometer says, today’s last day of summer here at the least signals a psychological shift.

Here are the sure signs summer is frantically waving goodbye in the back window of the station wagon we call seasonal change ...

I didn't make too big a deal about my birthday in early September, because it's just another year. I hit 30 last year with very little trauma, so 31 is just another brick in that wall. But there are sure signs you and me are getting older. They are easy to miss if you don't pay attention. Age is an old lady who cuts in front of you in the buffet line when you're not looking, and she's going to eat all the pudding.

10 sure signs we're all getting older:

I'm not looking for another job just yet. For newbies and those who don't remember (or care), I took a job as editor at a small weekly newspaper in December, fleeing my corporate advertising digs and returning to news journalism. Sounds romantic, doesn't it?

Well, it puts me in a career pickle. I've already worked at medium and large newspapers, and returning to either doesn't interest me now that I've got a family to spend time with. Where do I go from here? I have time to answer that, but where that answer will come from is vague. As someone who loves surprises, and carefully plans each one, my inquiring mind wants to know now.

Here are some (unlikely) possibilities:

It's tough being a young suburban professional. OK, it's not that tough, except for commuting, pesky neighbors who grow "herbs" in their back yards (ahh, that's why they don't mow the lawn too often!), property taxes and a war many of us fight no matter where we live: the battle of the bulge. As hip and with-it as I seem (did I really have anybody fooled?), I'm just a suburban nerdboy.

I've always lived in a suburb somewhere, whether in a bedroom community near Washington, D.C., or a booming burb outside of Dallas. We now reside in what I've called many times the Crumbling Suburbs, outside of Cowtown, Texas. That's where houses built in the 1950s and '60s are falling apart, bought from their original owners by young families, and are undergoing some sort of renovation. The businesses here are fleeing to newer, more exciting suburbs and retail centers, leaving us with large, empty buildings with no hopes of filling them.

The closest thing to urban was when I lived in West Texas a few blocks from "downtown" Lubbock. It was basically a ghetto, but with sturdy old houses and only a few drug dealers and hookers down the street to make things interesting. Lubbock's also a college town, so there are some stories I could tell you related to that as well ... but I won't right now.

Here is the different between being a young urban professional ("yuppie") and a young suburban professional ("yosubproffy"):

After blogging for a while, it's hard to remember what I've written about here, written about elsewhere, commented on others' blogs, e-mailed in response to comments, dreamed about, thought about or read somewhere else. This information age is sometimes too much for my wee noggin. So forgive the T-bone if this all sounds strangely familiar.

I take offense at the notion that to take part in culture, one must visit a museum and look at paintings painted by old dead people. Or that one must don itchy clothes, sit in a stuffy theater and see strange people doing strange things upon the stage. I do enjoy art, and I do enjoy theater, but culture is all around us. You don't have to look somewhere special to be enriched, enlightened or entertained.

So I mentioned how much a post from this woman was a good idea. Now I'm going to borrow the idea and plunk it down here. It's sort of a roll call, who's reading and stopping by. This blog has gone through a few cycles and not as many people are out there, and I'm curious about who is without having to do some techno stuff and checking the traffic here.

So here's what you do:
Please comment leaving your name, where you're from and if you like where you live. You may also talk about your plans for the future, whatever else, or ask me a question, etc.

My example:
My name is Texas T-bone and I live in Fort Worth, Texas. The area is nice enough, if not becoming overcrowded, but my wife and I have built a life here that fits us well for now. My goal is to learn how to build small wooden boats, move to a beautiful lake or protected cove along the coast and build them, sell them at high prices to eager tourists, paint pictures of them and sell those, and work on my tan. Hey, T-bone, what is the matter with you?

Give it a whirl, won't you?

Here's my second post of the day, and it's about nothing! It breaks several standards of good blogging, too. I talk about the weather, what I had for lunch, how I feel and how cool my dog is. Sue me!

• It's a bright, beautiful clear day outside. Lots of sun.
• I had a peanut-butter-and-strawberry jelly sandwich for lunch. With chips (tortilla) and an apple (Fuji).
• The cooler weather is making my head yeeyaw in allergenic repulsion. I've sneezed more times today than the entire population of China does in a week. I've also blown enough snot out of my nose to create a rushing river. Anybody up for tubing? Greenwater rafting? Ewwww.
• My dog is so cool, she can tell time. She stinks, though. And she licks herself more than a furry lollipop. She's also one of the prettiest dogs in the world, except maybe for hers. My dog can also herd sheep, although we don't have any. Bummer!
• Remember when I ranted and raved about politics and religion in the same post? Oh yeah, that was earlier today.
• I hate how people drive around here. Either too fast or not fast enough. Like they own the road, or like they're just borrowing it and afraid to break it.
• Hey, why do drunks need one for the road? The road is already laid out flat.
• Check out this post about just commenting on where you live and whether you like it. So smart! I thought about doing something called "The Hello Project" that would have involved giving out my home phone number and asking people to just call and say hello. Then I wised up and figured I didn't want to do that.

Come on, people! I've got just 40 comments to gather until this blog has hit the 3,000 mark! Spammers, I know you have it in you to send me a bunch of worthless crap overnight! I think about a third of my total is probably spam, so I guess I need 1,040 jen-u-ine commentz before reaching the summit. Bring it on! Crown me homecoming king or else.

Alternately titled: T-bone talks about politics and religion in the same blog post

I think the TV ads for Kentucky Fried Chicken (oops, I mean "KFC") hit the mark in their commentary of the political scene. "Left wing, right wing – it tastes the same to me." Yeah, I have convictions on what's right and wrong (just as most politicians have convictions for misdemeanors), and I care about some of the issues. But really, our political system – a seesaw democratic republic – is chock full of checks and balances (and 18 essential vitamins and minerals) so it doesn't matter so much who's got the top job.

It's a popularity contest based on who is the least annoying, or who has the juiciest sound bite right before we head to the polls.

1
Years added to my life during the weekend.
Number of ribeye steak sandwiches I consumed.
Number of slices of strawberry pie I had.
Number of weeks my boss is out of town.

6
Slices of lemon meringue pie I had in birthday celebration.

15
Number of people in our house for lunch after church on Sunday.

8
Number of family members in our house on Monday.

2
Weeks until we have a family beach weekend.

17
Pairs of socks I received as gifts (kidding, it was more like 22). When did I become hard to buy for?

The two main reasons I know I'm blessed.

Maybe next week I'll take a bunch of photos of other stuff and post them each day. That's pretty much a no-brainer sort of week, which is something I need!

With the fall television season upon us, those of us who do not have satellite or cable service to supplement the broadcast offerings will be treated to new episodes of old favorites and opportunities to hate new shows. We don’t watch a whole lot of TV in our house – I even told a regional vice president of one of the cable companies here that my family would be a hard sell. It just doesn’t fit into our lifestyle. It’s not because we’re doing anything more meaningful, though. I’m just too cheap and would rather be outside running around than inside watching my gut grow.

We also have only one TV in the house, and that automatically limits how many shows we can watch on any given day.

But still, there would be a few advantages to life if it was relegated to the confines of the typical situation comedy show: