June 2006 Archives

As I've noted before, my wife will be giving birth to the final installment of T-boneFiletFamily v 1.0X in December (Kiddo v 2.0 will be it, as we're taking double-countermeasures to ensure that fact). This is a SUPRISE! baby, not to be confused with a Mistake-Baby. In my mind, no baby is a mistake (some parents may be, however). Because the Petite Filet hasn't had a hit song in years and there have been false rumors in the tabloids that our marriage is on the rocks, she is planning to pose nude and preggers on the cover of a national magazine. Yeah, that makes lots of sense. I thank my lucky starts that I married a woman who has class and good sense enough to be normal.

Oops! She Did It Again!

And that brings me to my sister, who on her birthday this week discovered that she is pregnant with her third child (none of them were planned). The kid will be a blessing when he or she arrives sometime next spring, but it will be a financial struggle for her and her husband. It will tax their little house, their little cars, their little income, etc. The sitauation makes me a little sad, mostly because everyone has potential to do other things with themselves. There they are, living in the same town in which they grew up, minutes from both sets of parents (I won't go into this; it's not pretty). But as long as it makes them happy, then nothing I think or say matters at all.

I can tell you that from experience, being an uncle is similar to being a grandparent in that I can play with my nephews, throw them up in the air and pass them to their parents if they crap their pants or run 90 mph into a brick wall. Plus, I'm still sort of young so they don't wear me out like they do grandma and grandpa. My sister's third biscuit will be either my third nephew or my first niece. The more the merrier as far as I'm concerned. As long as they know they aren't ever ever moving in with us, all will be well.

I grew up listening to country, pop, heavy metal, hard rock, alternative, classic rock, oldies and classical music (not in that order). There are times when I still enjoy songs from all those genres, and that only feeds my iTunes addiction. My iPod is a study in a melodic short-attention span. This probably describes all of us, so I might as well tell you about that great cheese sandwich I ate for lunch last week. But I won't.

Instead, does anyone else find it odd that so many poppy-rap hip-hoppers release songs along with other artists? Some of the collaborations make sense, when it is a union of two rappers, or two hip-hoppers (or Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. I really believe they are islands in the stream!). This trend, nothing new but still annoying, often seems like the sole vehicle that drives a song's popularity. Run DMC and Aerosmith's long-ago remix of the latter group's "Walk This Way" revived a classic song and the rock group's post-rehab career. But I have to think it was a good song given a new twist that made it popular (familiar for some, a new discovery for a younger generation in a new way). The personalities alone helped but did not sell the song. Some older musicians (Santana) latch onto rising stars just to sell records – sometimes works – like buying a puppy for an older dog so it remembers to go outside to poo.

If a song was any good, wouldn't just one artist need to record it? Instead we've got Beefmaster Q featuring L'il Pickle and Gangsta Flav Paco. On some of the rap songs they've kind of got to call roll before they get down to smacking it down just so you KNOW FOR SURE who is responsible (so you can avoid them like a rotten watermelon). Good songs are, of course, still being written and recorded. Just not as often anymore. When it happens it's like an afterthought.

And let's talk about Sean Combs, but not just for stealing backbeats from good songs ("Every Breath You Take!"). He keeps changing his name ... is it because he doesn't know who he is? Puffy? Puff Daddy? P Diddy? P? Diddy? He's vogue-ing in fragrance ads as "Sean John" now. In a job where image is everything, you'd think he would have crafted an identity with staying power. Even Prince is now going by Prince again.

It's that time of year again. You know: summer. For my part of the world, that means little or no rain for months at a time, scorchingly hot temperatures (think 100 degrees or more) and people who care so much about keeping their lawns green that they'll pay monthly water bills in excess of $600.

Summertime also coincides with the time of year during which I love the crispy brown-ness of my yard. We try to keep our home's foundation moist, to reduce pesky soil-heaving and moving dirt that inevitably leads to cracks, doors that won't close and big hairy spiders popping by for a visit. But otherwise, the grass is on its own. It's just not a priority for me. The lawn is a worthwhile sacrifice when another liquid – gasoline - costs so much. I can skip watering the lawn all summer; not so for our vehicles' gas tanks.

We are staring down outdoor watering restrictions, and I laugh in the face of them. It won't change my lackidaisical nonirrigating lifestyle! I have looked your water shortage in the eye and chortled uncontrollably! I can only use soaker hoses? Sure! I'll even use them to wash my car (although it might take days)! Take that, dwindling lake levels! Touche, you dried-up aquifer, you. I pee in your crusty, waterless riverbed.

Another downside for my lawn-happy neighbors: that means they have to mow their overly green lawns more often. Their lack of regard shows as their gasoline-powered turfeaters belch thick white smoke into the air. Ha! They'll have to get into their insanely inefficient SUVs to go get more gasoline for their sacred lawn equipment. Look at that guy, shirtless, waving that leaf blower like a light saber! No regard whatsoever for planet Earth!

I bet he'll be bummed when the watering restrictions make his "funny weeds" hidden in his back yard go south. Where's your 24-hour sprinkler addiction, now, Frankengoober?

My parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary yesterday. That sure seems like a long long time. I came along about seven years later, which means I'm reeling in the years as well. They're planning to come over to visit next weekend – maybe I'll ask them what their secret is. I mean, having grown up in their house I have a few clues ...

If you want light, fluffy and dumb reading, see post below.

A few weeks ago, I stayed with my parents so I could ride the 15-mile loop of this bicycle rally, which was much closer to their house than mine. I met them at an Olive Garden and bought them dinner. Afterward, I drove my mom to the assisted-living facility my grandmother recently relocated to from a similar one.

The awfulness of "reality TV" has been written about ad infinitum in so many places. The shows definitely have a varying degree of watchability, but whether that is enough to redeem a TV show remains to be seen. Many a sitcom struggles with the same style-over-substance issue, yet new sitcoms stumble down the pike every TV season. With new media offering us entertainment value, TV doesn't hold the place it once did at the center of our living rooms and evening time-wasting activities. This is all heady stuff, though. I just figured I'd come up with stupid titles for existing "reality" and "contest" shows.

With this thing we call the World Wide Web so popular these days, it's a wonder companies are still building gigantic big-box retail meccas in which to draw us and empty our wallets, in turn filling our homes with whatever it is they have to offer. I guess there are, call them old-fashioned if you will, people who like to feel, touch and smell things before they buy them. Freaks!

The time is coming for us to buy a new vehicle for the Petite Filet, for a number of reasons:

I got an offer in the mail for free music downloads. At the time, the company was offering a free trial for 50 downloads (now it's down to 25). I tried it, wondering what the catch was. That turned out to be a music catalog that lacks many of the music you'll easily find elsewhere. If your musical tastes run from the obscure to possibly the classic or vintage stuff, you may find some real gems. If you like it, you can sign up for packages that let you download lots of tunes for a flat monthly fee. Its catalog is growing, but don't expect it to be iTunes.

Speaking of iTunes, I have found that many of the free singles it offers every week are quite good. Not only are the songs sometimes great, it's a good way to be exposed to new musicians. You can even sign up for e-mail reminders that pop in your inbox each Tuesday heralding new releases and the free single available. The iTunes software is available as a free download for Macs and PCs. What are you waiting for?

For vinyl-o-philes, Circuit City sells a turntable that connects via USB directly to your computer. It includes software for both computer platforms for capturing music and turning it into MP3s. It's relatively cheap, and is not professional grade (you can't filter out the pops and scratches with just the included software), but it gets the job done. I like the sound of vinyl records, but they are really hard to take with you while you jog.

I've never organized a CD swap, but if anyone has suggestions, I'm all for it. With many of us doing the iTunes thing (or something similar), we could share stuff none of us have ever heard of and expand our horizons beyond the norm. Or, this could become yet another Breakfast Project that flops like a pancake on a cold griddle. I hope to have the Breakfast Project completed as a cookbook available for free download by next month, though.

My first official "bicycle rally" was today. I rode in the Collin Classic, which was a fundraiser for juvenile diabetes research. Wimpy me took the 15-mile loop, which was designed for mountain bikers only. About four miles of the route was on a gravel road.

I remember the first time I heard about the Dixie Chicks. I was a reporter at a small daily newspaper, and they were scheduled to play at either a Chamber of Commerce function or some women's group meeting (maybe the Soroptomists, famous for their bean suppers*). They had a reputation for playing good music. They were (and, I think still are) attractive girls-next-door. Later on they'd hit the big time and not have to play rubber-chicken events in podunk towns. Even after birthing babies and vilification in the media, they still look pretty good. The music, too, sounds fresh and different from so much of the weepy country powerpop Nashville seems to favor these days. Their new album is dripping with attitude and infectious grooves.

If you were to visit my corner of the world and brought with you a hankering for Mexican food, I could hook you up, pardner. Texas ain't the only place to find the good stuff (there's always Mexico), but we've got plenty of choices. I'd even entertain a visit to a chain restaurant, where it may not be "authentic" Mexican food but would probably leave you mostly satisfied. Like most other ethnic cuisines, there are many varieties of meals influenced by tastes south of our border. It's not all about heat, refried beans and copius amounts of cheese.

All the hype about today being 6/6/06 is nothing but hype. The Holy Bible does mention "666" as the number of the beast ("the Anti-Christ"), but it's not tied to a time but rather the man's name. The number will also be tied to commerce.

"So that no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark, which is the name of the beast or the number of his name."

– Revelation 13:17 (New International Version)

Further, the Bible does not say when the end of the world will begin, the Anti-Christ will rise, Jesus will return to Earth for 1,000 years of rule and then the curtain closes on terrestrial mankind.

"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come."

– Mark 13:31-33

This quote from Jesus was also witnessed by Matthew (see Matthew 24:35-37). It's not meant as a warning that the end is near, but rather to do the duties to which we were created by God to do. Now. Don't wait!

Let's say you don't believe in Jesus, or that the Bible is truth (which is silly, because if you think something hideous will happen today, you have to believe that there's some outside universal force controlling things. Um, which there is. This isn't a political thing (or shouldn't be), people, it's life).

Think about the calendar. It's an arbitrary, manmade tool to keep track of time. It has been adjusted (Leap Years), tweaked through the ages and isn't perfect (we even mess with the hours with Daylight Savings Time). So we are the only beings who know it's 6/6/06. The squirrels don't know, and they don't care. Same goes for the supersititions that crop up on Halloween and Friday the 13th. Just like The Da Vinci Code, it's pure fiction to distract us from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Anything that does that is not of God, but of the devil (spooky echo sound effects when you read "devil").

Throughout time, religions, would-be prophets, naysayers, world leaders and hyperactive hermits have predicted that the end of the world will happen on a specific date. Guess what? They've all been wrong, and will continue to be.

So, have a nice day today. You have the option to make it count for something, but that something can be for the good.

If you have a favorite breakfast recipe, please submit it by the end of the week for inclusion in The Breakfast Project online cookbook. Now finish your cereal!

I got a new wallet last week. Normally, that's akin to the classic lame-o post about having "a cheese sandwich for lunch," or "you wouldn't believe what my cat did today." But I had my previous wallet for 15 years. Yeah, that's a long time to keep a folding strip of leather close to your butt. But it served me well through college, and launching into the professional world, and getting married, becoming a daddy, taking long road trips where it was smooshed into the seat, etc. etc. etc. Good times.

But the good times had taken their toll. Even after several cleanups using black shoe polish, the thing was looking ratty. So I replaced it with a brown one, same brand and hope it will last even half as long. Maybe another stumbling block was the fact that I've always had a hangup about spending money on a wallet ... which is for holding your money. Wouldn't that mean you have less need for a wallet if you spend money on one? I exasperate myself sometimes, people.

Yeah, it's the same reason our garbage cans are about to fall apart. Kind of like it would be "throwing money away" to spend money on something we're just gonna pile stinky garbage inside, drag to the curb and then have the sanitation engineers let roll down the hill. I'm not really that stingy, just overly practical to the point of it not always being fun.

But on that note, me and the fam had a blast at Turner Falls near Davis, Okla., and then I was semi-disappointed at the classic boat show back home. But with a new wallet, there's always a bright side ... even if there's no cabbage lining its insides.

I'm taking a Sanity Day on Friday, and me and the fam are escaping to this place for the day. On Saturday, I'm going to a classic boat show to discuss the fine points of restoration and maintenance, although my classic boat won't be ready for prime time for years. On Sunday, my church, which has been meeting in an additional satellite location in downtown Fort Worth for several months, will have control of the Bass Performance Hall for one unified service. Anyone in or near Fort Worth who would like to witness a church service at the Bass is welcome and encouraged to swing on by. Afterward, I'm sure we'll do a few downtowny things like find a nice spot to eat lunch, stroll through Sundance Square or frolic at Trinity Park. Window-shopping and people-watching is a given, of course.

And to be sure, with the Cutlet in tow, we will be using plenty of moist towlettes in new and interesting places this weekend. Hope your weekend is also cleansing and moist. See you on the other side.