The League does not often travel abroad. In fact, The League has been confined to the golden shores of North America for more than 28 years. Mrs. League has been just about everywhere, but her dreams of travel ended the day she hooked up with an RTF major with no chance of disposable income.

But one of the outside benefits of working at a university is that you meet people from all over the world who come in pursuit of the knowledge your particular institution has to offer.

And so it was that I was asked to drop off some translation equipment for 25-odd Chinese visitors last night. Essentially, the equipment consisted of one microphone and broadcast device (with a single on/off switch) and 22+ headsets and receivers (with a single on/ volume dial).

"And we need them there by 5:15," said the boss.
"So I can actually leave by 5:15? I haven't done that since before the holidays."
"(The Dean of something or other) will be there. Give them to her. She's translating for the Dean." Because Dean (we'll call her Lee) speaks Mandarin. I guess.
So I was walking out the door with co-worker Eric P., and suddenly I had a flashback to my tech-monkey job in Austin.
"Oh, God. She's going to get nervous when she sees all the black wire."
"You think?"
"I'm never getting out of there."
Apparently the business school was hosting a dinner for several visitors from a Chinese partner of Motorola, and this was a big dinner to honor their arrival or something. I know only a few things. Among these is the fact that I know next to nothing about Chinese language, culture or custom.
So I got there and laid out the devices on the windowsill so they could easily be picked up. Dean Lee was not yet there to drop any bombshells. I turned around, and all 5'1" of her was standing behind me.
"So you're going to stay and help with these?"
"Ah, no. I'm just here to drop them off."
"They look complicated. How do they work?"
"There's just one button. Very simple."
"They look very complicated. I think you should stay."
I watch as several trays of food come in, and I realize I'm running out of time to escape.
"There's just one switch. You'll be fine," I say reassuringly.
"So you're here in place of Jeff?"
And I realize that my boss was supposed to be here. THat he has DUPED me into taking the hit for him.
"I think you should stay."
"Oh." I say. "Okay."
I stand around for another minute, staring into space and trying to become one with the woodwork.
"You need to get a bartender in here" a woman is telling me.
"Excuse me?"
"You need to get a bartender in here. There's nobody to serve drinks."
"Look," I can here myself saying, and I realize I'm kind of pissed. "I don't work here. I work for Dean Lee."
You see, I've been a tech-monkey. I ran wire and cable and captured video all silently and without being noticed for many, many years. And as such, people always assume that you are a part of the great inner-workings of the building you're in. They always assume you can do things like, say, pull a bartender out of your ass. I have nothing against bartenders. At events like this, they're usually the only decent person in the room. But I was also wearing a shirt which read "School of Engineering" across it, so I'm not really sure why I was confused with the University Club staff.
The lady looked at me for a moment, and horror crept into her eyes.
Universities are incredibly stratified. She had just identified me with the serving folks, and I was part of the Dean's staff. Suddenly, despite my haggard and irritated persona so typical of the serving folk, I was a guy who could tell the Dean that this lady is an idiot. And that, my friends, can be incredibly awkward. A single misstep can effect the way in which you are able to engage whole units for years.
In that same instant i realized I was no longer part of the serving staff and endless sea of tech monkeys which keep the university running. I am THE MANAGER OF DISTANCE LEARNING, AND PITY BE TO THOSE WHO FALL IN MY PATH. But all of that posturing didn't mean that I didn't have to stick around.
At this point, all the Chinese businessmen filed in, and too late I remembered: Chinese businessmen have a very distinct ritual of handing out business cards. You face the receiver squarely, and with two hands and a bit of supplication, you present the card.
"I have no card," I whispered to the Dean.
"Ooooookkkaaaaaayyyy," she said between clenched teeth. Ah, career suicide! Dean Lee was now seeing me for a boob, sent to replace Jeff and having no business cards! Bloody hell, the Chinese businessmen could see this as a slight, or something, i guessed, and none of them knew that until ten minutes before I was to drop off the receivers and bolt. going home early to see my wife in daylight for the first time in a week.
I was presented with one card. Dean Lee quickly explained I had no cards to our visitor, and I assume disaster was averted.
"Sit down and have some dinner," said the Dean.
"I should probably stick by the equipment."
"Sit down," said the Dean.
Unsolicited, one of the Chinese businessmen brought me a Budweiser. Now, when working for the University, one does not drink, swear or pass gas before their superior. It's actually pretty strict in the rules about drinking, and frankly, I don't know Dean Lee well enough to guess whether or not she drinks. So I smiled, took the beer appreciatively, and wondered why the University Club's best beer is Budweiser.
After a moment, i realized I had just dodged a bullet. One, i had considered turning the beer down, but took it anyway. Two, upon taking beer, I had denied myself my usual inclination to drink straight from the bottle. I guess I spent too long in Texas. Anyway, everyone was pouring their beer into their wine glasses.
Now Dean Lee was explaining who i was. I nodded and waved at the folks at my table, not sure exactly what Dean Lee was telling them (since I wasn't clear on whether or not she knew my last name).
"Do you have any brochures?" asked Dean Lee.
"Any what?"
"Brochures or marketing materials?"
"I just..." it sounded so weak now. "I just came to drop off the headsets."
She turned to the Chinese Businessmen and explained I, in fact, had no materials to share with them.
"Go get some food," she said.
"I just ate before I left," which was true. Rachel had provided me with cold pizza (jalapeno and pineapple... mmmmm).
"Go get some food," she said again. Ah, if I were not to eat, these folks might take it the wrong way. Luckily they had grilled new potatos. Mmmmm....
We toasted each other alot (mostly in Mandarin), and we listened to a few short speeches.
"So I don't think we need the translation devices," Dean Lee said.
"No?"
"I think I'll just translate for the Dean."
"Oh. Okay."
The speech made little, if no sense. Despite extensive travelleing in China, the Dean apparently doesn't realize that Chinese speech-making is NOT the same yuk-fest American speechmaking tends to be.
My department was even mentioned, but I was not pointed out as managing that department, which led me to believe I had done SOMETHING wrong. Or maybe not. You never know.
I ate some salad, listening intently to the conversation, trying to figure out if I knew any chinese. I do not.
Finally, at quarter to seven, Dean Lee said "I think you can go."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The Chinese Businessmen looked at me sadly. I think they, too, wished to go. I think they thought that young american male promised more excitement for the evening than middle-aged dean lady. But I was also not really wanting to escort these guys around to a bunch of bars and strip clubs on a Wednesday night.
I had left my cell phone in my car (expecting to just drop off the receivers and leave), so jamie knew nothing of any of this.
"I was stuck in dinner with 25 chinese businessmen!"
"So you already ate?"
"Well, yes."
"Okay fine. See you when you get home."
I began to wonder if those guys would understand the value of a $20 in an American strip bar.

Because I am super busy today, and because Jim sent this, and because it's one of the funniest things I've seen in weeks.

Here you go.

THanks to Jim for forwarding me the link.

Wish I had this for Valentine's Day.

As a little kid I loved The Jeffersons. I do not know why, but I wwatched it all the time. In middle school, I was into Mr. Ed. In high school I watched lots of Twin Peaks, mostly because of Sherilyn Fenn.

Now, my worlds collide once more as Sherman Helmsley is set to take over duties on Mr. Ed. And Sherilyn Fenn is cast as Wilbur's wife. Will this be the best show ever?

And, wow... Fox decided to make the horse "from the street" as well as being smart alecky! What will those clever folks think up next...?

LOS ANGELES, California (Hollywood Reporter) -- Sherman Hemsley of "The Jeffersons" fame is lending his voice to the title character in Fox's updated version of "Mister Ed."

Hemsley joins David Alan Basche, who was previously tapped to play Wilbur Post, and Sherilyn Fenn, tapped as Wilbur's wife.

"Mister Ed" is a remake of the 1960s talking-horse sitcom. This time around, the equine title character has an urban sensibility.

The original starred Alan Young as Wilbur and Allan "Rocky" Lane as the voice of Mister Ed. The show ran on CBS from 1961 to 1965 after an initial syndicated run in early 1961.

Due to a busy and hectic schedule, Jamie had forgotten to bring home my VD gift over the weekend. No big deal. I'm not big on VD, and I was busy enough to just be glad to have time to giver her a present.

However, last night when I arrived home, Jamie handed me my present. Folks, you are now reading from the pages of the proud owner of Superman seat covers.

I have to admit, I was expecting something more long the lines of a card, so when I received the seat covers, I'm not really sure I was able to fully express my excitement.

Anyway, the seat covers are now in the car, and boy, are they snazzy. It's possible Jamie and I have more money than brains (which isn't saying much), but these are the things we do out here in the desert to keep ourselves from going insane. One could argue that from the outside, it looks like we're going in the opposite direction. And that's okay, but at least we're keeping ourselves amused.

talking George Bush dolls have turned up here before. Well, once again, Toys That Should Not Be presents a faithful recreation of our fearless leader(s).

What's interesting is you have choice of your favorite Bush, or you can also get a Stay Puft Marshmallow Man Bobblehead on the same page (insert your own Clinton joke here).

small victories:

1) I located the movie: Comic Book: The Movie which has had comic fandom quietly abuzz for a week or so.

2) I located the Justice League Hawkgirl action figure. I had assumed for so long that I would NEVER find Hawkgirl, that I had actually given up. Demand for the figure is high, and the few internet sites which had her were charging upwards of $30. I got her off the peg for $6.50.

3) The new Batman toys will include a "Batcave" which appears to be insanely large

4) The Justice League line of toys will soon include a version of the Satellite base. It's waaayyyy under scale, but I don't have an extra story on my house to store the full-scale model.

5) Superman comics are getting back on track. Kind of. Wait until April. The current storyline is shaping up well, as was the last one, but I'm waiting until April.

6) Superman comics actually went back to press for once, which means there is an upswing in interest.

7) I am not sick. I got enough sleep and feel okay today. I must have dodged that particular bullet.

I watched all of "Comic Book: The Movie" this weekend. And I am surprised to find out what a huge dork Mark Hamill is in real life. Wow. What a colossal nerd. But that's okay. He must actually LOVE being Luke Skywalker, because I cannot believe how dedicated to nerd-life he actually is. Comic Book: the Movie (herefeter referred to as CBTM) is about a guy hitting middle-age who loves comics and has been brought on board the pre-production team for a film adapatation of his favorite character, Captain Courage. Captain Courage has been changed to Codename: C.O.U.R.A.G.E., and is set to begin production as an ultra-violent revenge fantasy, intended to appeal to a modern audience.

Anyway, Mark Hamill's character decides he doesn't like the updated version of the character, and while at the San Diego ComicCon, goes about trying to persuade the producers that they should stay true to the original (if dated) premise. It attempts to follow the semi-improvised "documentaries" of the Christopher Guest genre, but only occasionally does it seem to work.

What follows is less than hilarious, and probably best to be avoided by anyone who doesn't have at least one long box in their closet. The movie is so full of inside jokes, I was stunned the release was wide enough I was able to find the DVD at Target. Even casual readers of comics would probably miss a lot of the jokes and references.

The production values are TERRIBLE. Audio is often messy, for some reason, we constantly see the cameraman, and the whole thing is shot on DV cameras (no, there's no film transfer here at all). I do give them credit for beign able to tape at all in the infamously chaotic lanes of the San Diego Comiccon. But one feels that an actual documentary would have far better served the intended purpose of the film.

What was really strange was how many celebrities do appear in CBTM, including Hugh Hefner, Sid Ceasar, Bruce Campbell, Stan Lee, and a host of comic creators (who are all uniformly chubby). It was cool to see some creators I am familiar with, and it was interesting to see them improvising their own personal recollections of Captain Courage (a mish mash of Shazam!, Superman and Captain America).

For some reason they also decided to add in a character of "the camerman", who is pretty much some guy playing "Otto" from The Simpsons. I don't know who this guy is, but he wasn't funny. And when your movie is improvised, that ain't good. There's a particularly irritating scene in which we are reminded that these are all LA folks in which Otto the cameraman tells a girl in a cowboy hat that "Austin, Texas was named after Steve Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man". Wow. THat's hilarous. These are the jokes which didn't end up on the cutting room floor.

In the end, CBTM may serve one terrific purpose, and that's to send a forewarning to producers everywhere. Producers can learn that as they option the rights to comic characters, they don't own the characters. Hell, the comic companies which do own them barely have any control. These characters belong to the fans. Changing the characters, altering them and adding a "hip factor" is not going to add anything to the character, it's just going to water down what made the character popular for 50+ years. There's a correlation between the success of comic based movies and how close they stay to the source material.

Unfortunately, i don't think CBTM is going to hold any producer's attention long enough that it's going to sway their opinions too much. And one wonders if the movie itself, with it's low budget look and feel, and it's wacky, wish-fulfillment ending, wouldn't end up doing more harm than good.

Well, VD has come and gone. VD is not my favorite holiday. There's a lot of pressure, and not a lot of payoff (get your minds out of the gutters, you pervs), and it's expensive and kind of meaningless unless you're with someone in year one. I am in year... I'm not sure. Anyway, we got married in 2000 if that begins to give you any ideas.

To make matters perhaps less romantic, my in-laws were here and Jamie had a cold and I just had the week from hell at work. And I know this week will stink, so I was thinking about that. Plus I have an exam on Tuesday. So, yes, I was just not in the mood for roses and wine and all that.

My distaste for VD solidified around 1999 when I agreed to take Jamie to a nice little Italian place in Austin called "Romeo's". It's a date kind of place, and we were not the only ones with the idea. Keep in mind, kitchens are outlawed in private homes in Austin, and so everybody eats out all the time as it is. So on VD, all these couples were there and it was chaos and we agreed to sit outside by the gas heater thingy. After an hour and a half wait and ducking an interview with the local Fox affiliate doing a fluff piece on VD, we finally got seated. About five minutes later, the gas ran out, and we were told there was no more gas. We would have to freeze or give up our seat. So we froze and ate luke-warm food. I did get to watch a scene out of a sit-com as a weasely, somewhat grotesque little man tried to maintain the interest of his date by constantly reiterating his financial position (of which, i was quite jealous). I don't remember too many specifics, but he did a pretty good job of it, and it was kind of inspiring (note to self: as you get older and uglier, get richer...)

All in all, I was not feeling terribly romantic at the end of this fiasco.

So this year we stayed warm, ate with Jamie's folks at a local little place run by a dude named "Ziggy", and went home. Jamie says she got me something, but she says it's at her office.

I think I am getting sick, which is irritating. I have not REALLY been sick since I moved out here. Not a cold, not a flu, not a nothing. But I think I am now getting sick. My co-workers will have a good laugh at my expense as I pointed out just last week that I never get sick out here, and they pointed out my foot issues as a sign of illness. I tried to explain that foot problems didn't qualify, but as they didn't buy it.

Well, I can look like a chump. And maybe get a day off to lay about and watch Montel.

Mel is spoiled by my father-in-law who has been taking him for walkies a few times a day for the past few days. However, the in-laws left insanely early this morning. Mel kept returning to the guest room, laying on the floor with mournful eyes, pleading for my father in-law's return. We went for walkies, but I know it just wasn't the same. Jeff, however, is delighted the invaders are gone.

Jim has thrown a monkey in the works. JimD. has spawned a capital idea for a satisfying conclusion to the A Present for Randy contest, but I'm not certain how to manage his suggestion. And I certainly do not want to start handling money. The League is not insured, nor did we get past "Pre-Calc" in high school.

Anyone with a better head for figures, transactional ideas and the law should send mail to the League outlining a plan for getting Randy a wedding present.

My worlds are colliding...

A Present for Randy Update:

Hello, Leaguers! You may be wondering about the status of the "A Present for Randy" contest. Things are going swimmingly.

Apparently offering a present in exchange for an entry was the thing to do. Well, done, my greedy little Leaguers. However, some of the key Leaguers have not piped up. Where is Ann Francis? Where is Nathan Cone? Why doesn't Jason ever pipe up? And is that really Jim's final word on the matter?

Alas, I think we may be at daggers drawn over the topic.

Anyway, I will probably be shutting down the contest here in a week or so. Keep in mind, all entrants who include their snail mail address will receive Vol. 2 of the League of Melbotis musical CD. You can put the disc into your car CD player and pretend you're driving to work with Melbotis himself, but without all of the doggy odor.

an actual picture of the new toy from the upcoming Batman animated series

With this cartoon and the new movie about to begin, it's time for me to clear some additional shelf space at League HQ.

I think it's because Barbie met Batman when he moved to Mattel.

how cool is this?

Good news. My brother has offered to cut off my head as part of the ancient Seppuku ritual! Instant death for me, boy!

it seems that the concepts first employed with the 1980's 5:30am show "Captain Power" are being re-employed with the Dark Knight Detective.

This doesn't bother me. I hope the toys are cool and the show is cool. We'll see.

What bothers me is that they can embed electronic messages into my TV to cause things in my house to be programmed. Leaguers, if there were ever technology ripe for abuse by a nefarious conglomerate run by a mad super-villain, this would be it.

Yesterday at work we sat down and outlined the various initiatives, programs and projects we're going to be dealing with in the near future. I have come to the conclusion that the only honorable escape is through seppuku. I am now seeking a sword and a place where they will find my corpse before it begins to stink.

Somewhat interesting. Dean Wartella has been Dean at UT's school of communications for years and years and years. It looks like she's off to sunny California.

I spent 5 years in the College of Communications while at UT, and I can say Wartella had a profound impact on my life. She showed me that I can spend five years somewhere and never have the slightest clue that my college has a Dean. The School of Communications was always critically underfunded, terribly organized and showed little or no interest in any of it's actual undergraduate students. The Department of Radio-Telelvision-Film itself felt often as if it were being managed by drunk lemurs, with no clear path for graduation or real standards for students to meet. Grad students hung out for up to ten years, and decisions were made mid-stream which screwed crucially with my entire graduating class who was in the production track.

No clear path of communication was ever given. If the College had anything resembling an Associate Dean of Academic Affairs, I don't know who it was. One of the primary roles of a Dean is to seek funding for a College. not once while I was in the College, or in the years following, have I read about any major award to UT's College of Communication.

Career services consisted of a desk with a student worker who's job it was to point at a pile of outdated books and suggest you browse them. The job board consisted of opportunities at HEB and some telemarketing firms.

But mostly, I never even heard the Wartella's name until we were told what was going to happen while we lined up for graduation. I had good reason to assume nobody was actually in charge, because, by God, it felt that way 90% of the time. So farewell, Dean Wartella. Have fun wherever you go. You were a lousy Dean and nobody will ever notice you parted ways with the College.

Oh, and Paul Stekler is a dick.

Jim can wax philosophic on Survivor, so maybe I can be the bottom feeder on reality shows.

The new fave rave at The League is "My Big, Fat Obnoxious Fiancee" which stars a lame Scottsdale girl and a dude who, for all appearances, is the missing Steans brother. Seriously. Character or not, "Steve" is very much in line with what one would expect from a member of the Steans clan.

The premise of the show, for those of you who are above such drivel and will not watch, is that Randi (a Scottsdale prototype if there ever was one) believes herself to be a contestant on a reality show in which, if she can convince her best friends and family she is in love with, and marrying, someone she met three weeks earlier, she will win a million dollars. The twist is, they've given her "Steve". Who is pretty much a sitcom sort of guy's guy. Randi is unaware that Steve is a trained actor playing an obnoxious clod. So she thinks she's pulling one over on her family, and being fairly clever doing it. Meanwhile, she believes the producers have stuck with an impossible dork of a man. BUT, if she can convince her family she's in love, and they go through with the wedding, she get's $1 million.

Yeah, it's so meta, it took me two episodes to figure out exactly what the hell is going on. I will say, it was morbid curiosity which drew me in, and it's malicious pleasure which keeps me there.

You see, Randi is probably a somewhat nice, if shallow person. And like all good current reality shows, this one sets out to punish Randi for being such a shallow, money-grubbing Scottsdale dork.

Last night's episode (of which I actually only saw the last half), reminded me of exactly why the Valley of the Sun annoys me so very, very much.

Randi's family came in from Scottsdale, and Randi had to spring it upon them that she was engaged. Her parents, in all honesty, took it much better than I had expected. But her siblings are the same jug-headed maroons who blast Snoop Dogg from their Kia Sorentos while cruising Scottsdale Road on their way to Sugar Daddy's. Her folks are the kind of people who can't distinguish between arts and crafts and who are the reason the "art festivals" around here can get away with charging $200 for a rusted copper back scratcher. All in all, it was nice to see them being so openly disenchated with "Steve", because at least they were being honest. Even if Randi's brothers are big old jug-heads.

This town isn't just full of these people, it PRIDES itself on being a boringly pedestrian place to be. I don't dislike golf in and of itself. But if you admit to not playing golf here, folks look at you like you just told them you think Stalin had some great ideas. It's bland, bland, bland and more than a little bit boring.

Look, I ain't pretty. And I ain't getting any prettier. So no small part of me is delighted to see Steve, who is also probably very aware of how unpretty he is, taking full advantage of the situation. Sure, he shows some small glimmers of sympathy for Randi. ut, really, he is more than aware that even if he is a great guy, Randi's the girl who's looking for the Accountant with the golf clubs already packed in the trunk of his BMW.

Steve's "family" is also great, and once again, they al so remind me all too much of the Steans clan. God bless 'em. I could totally envision my family encouraging me "to do the Moose", an act which defies both taste and description.

Like all Fox reality shows, the series will stretch out waaayyyy too long, and eventually really test my patience with all the pseudo-tense moments. But I think as long as I keep watching only the last half-hour of any given episode, the show will move long at a good clip.

New animated series update:

Jim e-mailed me a story ona new Batman cartoon set for Kids WB! this fall. And then just this morning I saw an article on the show on another site. This one includes some images. Interesting interpretation of Batman. It looks like a cross between Year One Batman and his earliest adventures in Detective Comics from 1939 or so.

The series is no doubt intended to coincide with the new movie being developed at WB. It's good to see Batman getting out there again. As much as I'm a Superman fan, I've been a Batman fan from a far earlier age. Now let's see Superman out there again getting treated with the same high standards.