round-up

Jason documents the 4th. That's a lot of pontificatin' hats.

Jamie posts on Team Swizzlebeef's latest.

There's a Facebook Page up for JimD's movie, Pleadings.

By the way, I failed to mention that last week was Jamie's one year anniversary at Troubles McSteans.

If you like comics, and you like superheroes, and ou aren't reading Mark Waid's Irredeemable, you are making a mistake.

One More Dead Celebrity, Coffee Talk, Torso Pillow

McNair

Man, if it hasn't been a couple of weeks to be a celebrity.

Now McNair? I'm not surprised the man wasn't exactly faithful to his wife (I know they're not reporting any romantic entanglements quite yet, but... As a mid-30's sports superstar and millionaire, I'm betting he wasn't just in the same book club with the 20-year-old "friend"). I'd guess the wives of pro-athletes aren't completely clueless and ask for discretion more than honestly expect much in the way of fidelity from their husbands.

And call me a cynic, but I'm assuming this is a murder/suicide.

After Jon Gosselin, Governor Sanford and now McNair, it is a bad time to be a philanderer.

But, hey, wow... Poor McNair. He was one of my favorite atheletes for a good while there.

Like Native Americans

Last night around 11:30, post fireworks, sparklers and cocktails, people started grumbling about being hungry. Sure, we'd had a cook-out, but we ate around 5:00, so I understood if they didn't want to go in for round 2 on the Tostitos and whatnot. I didn't want to volunteer to fire up the Weber again, so we headed to the IHOP at Slaughter and Manchaca.

In high school, I wasn't averse to the late-night trip to the Denny's (1960, east of Kuykendahl) for coffee and chatting. I learned the waitresses didn't care if you didn't order anything, as long as the tip was okay, and so my habit became dropping $5 to rent the seat and enjoy the coffee until I got the shakes.

The IHOP we visited last night wasn't littered with high school kids, but we were seated close enough to hear one table debating stem cell research. It was a surprisingly cogent and unheated debate, even if voices did rise loud enough for me to begin listening to them.

I tuned out for about 45 seconds to actually pay attention to the folks at my table, only to hear one of the high schoolers at the next table blurt out: "we'd all be a lot better off if we lived like The Native Americans".

Indeed, sir.

I'd say I miss that sort of just-enough-information-to-be-dangerous proselytizing one feels compelled to do at 1:00 AM at a chain diner, but I'm not sure it ever really goes away. There's just a certain way one goes about it at that age as you're beginning to be able to think for yourself, and a little Discovery Channel goes a long way. Declarations are made, and utopia often seems well within grasp. If only we (fill in terrific idea here).

His friends gave up too easily. There was no "how's that? How would things be better, and what Native Americans are you talking about, Mr. Cultural Anthropologist?" Perhaps the guy took challenges to his assertions poorly and they didn't want to provoke him. Maybe he was easier to deal with if they didn't prolong the conversation. Maybe they agreed. Sadly, they were wrapping up, so I never heard how we'd be better off with teepees, or if he meant modern Native Americans (who I worked with at former job. Here's a secret: they had no magical powers, unless you think accounting is a magical power.).

As they were walking out, the kid was insisting that "we'd all live to be 173 if we lived more like The Native Americans." I wanted so badly to see this 173-year-old Native American. But, man, it's nice to know that bored suburban kids are still sorting these things out in low-cost chain restaurants. It's a largely undiscussed artifact of suburban middle-class culture. You're not going to see kids wrestling with the moral issues of the day, debating the politics of their parents, what-have-you on "90210". And those shows sure as hell aren't going to be shot in a Denny's between 10:00 and 1:30 in the morning.

And, of course, we were having our own, barely-more-informed discussion on some other political topic at our own table. But, mostly these days, we rely on pontificatin' hats and a cocktail.

Give me 17 years and I will make no progress.

If it comes to this...



I will work something out for you with JimD.

Happy Post 4th of July

I'd say the Fourth was a success. Lots of folks came by. We started around 4:00 and wrapped up around 1:00. There was cooking out (over the hottest fire since Mt. St. Helens), there was standing around, there were cocktails, there was neil Diamond, and there was singing. And IHOP.



Thanks to all who came by. We had a blast.

Neil Diamond knows what it means to be American

Dang, yo! Neil has the late 80's-era elementary school teacher fanbase locked up!

By the way, I totally love this song, and it will be pistols at dawn with anyone who says it is anything less than awesome.

Place your bets here...

So Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, famous for accidentally removing credibility from the McCain campaign (sorry, Palin fans, its true) has resigned her post as Governor.

My guess is that Palin received an opportunity for a lucrative television contract. Something along the lines of a talk show (isn't the modern dream to be Oprah Winfrey?) or something on Fox.

But, I also have no doubt that its all part of her plans for 2012. If that's the case, this voter is really looking forward to the primaries.

Any other theories?

Perhaps this recent Vanity Fair article could shed some light...

thanks to Randy for starting this whole conversation

Jeff Wilson (aka: Crackbass)

I am reminded that its now been three years since the passing of Jeff Wilson. Jeff, Sigmund and Kim were struck on July 3rd, and Jeff passed several days later.



Let's keep Mandy and Jeff's family (by blood and otherwise) in our thoughts this holiday weekend. And keep Jeff in mind, too.

It was a dark and stormy night...

If you've never heard of the Bulwer-Lytton contest, its a competition wherein folks submit a single sentence. The sentence is intended to be the start of a novel. A particularly bad novel that does not exist (yet).

I only remember this contest every few years, but I suggest perusing .

Here.

If the contest does not give an aspiring writer a moment of pause when they look upon their own prose, they either lack the self-awareness and insight into their own work enough to be a writer or they have an unhealthy level of self-confidence.

Two of my favorites:

Darnell knew he was getting hung out to dry when the D.A. made him come clean by airing other people's dirty laundry; the plea deal was a new wrinkle and there were still issues to iron out, but he hoped it would all come out in the wash - otherwise he had folded like a cheap suit for nothing.

Lynn Lamousin
Baton Rouge, LA

No man is an island, so they say, although the small crustaceans and the bird which sat impassively on Dirk Manhope's chest as he floated lazily in the pool would probably disagree.

Glen Robins
Brighton, East Sussex, U.K.

That second one sounds terribly likely in modern fiction.

Tip o' the hat to Unloveable.