Attack Deer!

A Slacker Gringo Stomp

2009-06-12T22:06:00.000-07:00

Self Esteem, One Friend Request at a Time

2009-02-08T18:23:00.000-08:00

I find myself compelled, nigh, forced to add more of my particular flavor of drivel to the Attack Deer dialogue. To be sure, I am doing this as a direct response to overwhelming feedback from you, loyal reader, and your insatiable appetite for all things Deer. I want to point out however, that you should all take a serious look at Jonathan's previous post regarding the anthropological wonder that is New Mexico. Jonathan, on top of being a walking case study on the absolute potential of mankind, is an astute observer of the human condition and his musings can only make the rest of us more respectful inhabitants of this wonderfully diverse and changing planet.

So without further ado, I want to address something that I've ignored for too long. Last week, the peaceful existence of life at 3601 Newland Place was disrupted when Donna and I metaphorically clasped hands, looked at each other with both apprehension and excitement, and leaped together into the world of Facebook. I've long been suspect of social media, choosing instead to pretend to like people to their faces. But as the number of people that I've at one time become friends with and now have no idea where they are or what they're doing piled up, I decided it was time to click on the ol' blinker, check the blind spots, and merge onto Interstate Facebook.

I'm certainly glad I did, because not only am I finding all of these ghosts of friendships past, but I am discovering that my self-worth is still tied up in how many friends I have. That's comforting because, well, I'm getting older. And I like knowing that while Father Time wages a relentless assault on my physique, he has a ways to go before bringing my fragile and ego-centric psyche in line with my so-called maturity level. Thanks to Facebook, I can easily keep track of my friends and quickly measure against everyone else. This is an invaluable tool, a running score card by which to gauge my value as a person.

Thank you, Facebook.

"Word Origins" for $1000 Alex

2009-02-03T17:48:00.000-08:00

As of late I have become increasingly interested in the history of New Mexico, especially the area where we live at the southern tip of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Walking around here there is a rich sense of history and of the people who lived here hundreds and even thousands of years ago. The dry desert climate preserves artifacts extremely well and the relatively slow rate of plant litter deposition makes finding many of them much easier than in other parts of the country. I received a book for Christmas called 'Enchantment and Exploitation: The Life and Hard Times of a New Mexico Mountain Range.' Although it is about the history of northern New Mexico it is a good read for others wanting to learn about American history as well. Most people don't know that the Spanish had been in present day New Mexico 80 years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. And this is where, for a lot of us, human history on this continent begins. We are all aware of the Native Americans being here long before Europeans, but not many people bother to look into the history of those people, except to say something like "they must have come to America across a land bridge from present day Russia." We've all seen movies like 'Dances with Wolves' and 'Last of the Mohicans' but often we don't bother to discover the history of the Native Americans who lived right under our noses. A good example of this comes in my researching the origin of the word 'Pecos.' Like many people I just assumed it was a Spanish word. It sounds kind of Spanish and the people who live in Pecos these days are of Spanish origin - it just made sense. In my research about the the origin of this word I ran across a publication in Angelo State University's online newspaper asurampage.com called 'Pecos' Rich in Tranlation. The author, Winston A. Hall, seemed to be debating with himself over the possible origin of the word, but he never even sniffed the actual answer. At one point he posits that "The actual origin of the name 'Pecos' is debated. It's most likely derived from the Latin word 'pecus,' which means 'a single head of cattle.' However, others argue that it comes from the Spanish verb 'pecar,' which means to sin or do wrong." One possible answer that I did not find, which happens to be the actual answer, was that it has Native American origins. It was not until I read the book that I got for Christmas that I learned of the Pecos Pueblo Indian tribe and the rich and sad history of its people. Many of the Native American artifacts I have found were probably fashioned by members of this tribe. When I was reading about them I remembered back to the online article that I read and thought how sad it was for someone to research a question and write an article for a university and not even come close to the real answer, especially a question that has a real concrete answer - one that is not hard to find if you just look beyond a few Google queries. I guess the author was doing what I had done. He just assumed that the word must have Spanish or Latin origins because all of 'our' words do. The only difference is that this guy took his assumption to the next level and wrote a completely bogus article that probably led at least a couple of people astray. Being that I am probably living on the exact ground where the Pecos Pueblo Indians made their camps as they hunted along the Pecos river valley, I thought I should step in and set the record straight. If not only to keep others from being led astray, but maybe in some small way to honor the people who live and walked centuries ago where I live now. So, I posted the following comment on their site:

I find it amazing that all of your research did not bring you to the actual origin of the word Pecos. For that you have to leave Texas and go to where the Pecos river departs from its deep canyon headwaters in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains - the original town of Pecos...New Mexico. Before it was a Spanish town it was a Pueblo Indian settlement. The Pueblos were once united early in their history, but for reasons not fully understood they split up into different settlements across the region known now as northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. There were many different Pueblo Indian tribes from the Keresan speaking Cochiti and Acoma to the Tanoan speaking Taos, Sandia, and Pecos. The actual meaning of the word is unknown, but the origin is known. When European settlers first arrived in 1540 (yes, the first Europeans who settled in what is now known as the United States were the Spanish in New Mexico, not the English in Massachusetts) the Keresan speaking Pueblos referred to their their sister Pueblo near the river as P'e'-a-ku, which the Spanish eventually changed to Pecos. The Native Americans (especially the Pueblos) in New Mexico have a harsh and brutal history after the arrival of the Spanish. For many reason, including European diseases and war with other tribes, there are no full blooded Pecos Pueblo Native Americans still living. It is kind of sad that one of the only remnants of this once large and powerful tribe, its name, is not even considered by most people to have anything to do with them. Spend time in the town of Pecos (New Mexico and certainly Texas) and there is scant evidence that such a people even existed. The Pecos clans were as follows: Waha (Cloud), Pe (Sun), Ya (Coyote), Seé (Eagle), Kyunu (Corn), Sohl (Badger), Sungti (Turquoise), Daahl (Earth or Sand), Wahaha (Calabash), Kiahl (Crow) Pa (Deer), Shiankya (Mountain lion), Whala (Bear), Fwaha, (Fire), Amu (Ant), Kotsaa ( Pine), Petdelu (Wild Turkey), Tashtye (Buffalo),Gyuungsh (Oak), Alawahku, (Elk), Alu (Antelope), Morbah (Parrot), and Hayah (Snake).

Movie Review - Juno

2009-01-10T09:20:00.000-08:00

We don't see a ton of movies, for the obvious reasons. The bulk of the entertainment in this house revolves around Dora, Diego and Little Einsteins. At least Emma and Johnny are old enough now to ask for shows like Planet Earth and Snowboard Diaries, both of which I can actually watch as well. Since our movie watching is few and far between it is a real bummer that most movies are a disappointment for one reason or another. The other night we watched Juno. I was preparing for the worst- you know, those movies that show every good or funny moment in the commercials. I was also expecting a show laced with some sort of political commentary or an underlying liberal agenda. To my surprise none of these were true. Juno was a funny, somewhat realistic, heart felt social commentary that touched on the good and some of the bad of society. There were interesting interactions between different groups, mainly the upper and middle class divide and the many social classes that define the High School setting. While many of these interactions are funny, they give a realness to the movie that others lack. I think the movie triumphed in it's ability to realistically and humorously depict all these interactions against the backdrop of such weighty subject matter as abortion and adoption. Obviously, the movie was not from a Christian perspective, but I think it was somewhat more powerful that a non-religious, typical highschool girl could see the value of life and the importance of helping others, even to the point of sacrificing her own body. Although the biggest attention getters in the movie are the themes of abortion and adoption, it turns out that the main theme is true love. In the midst of a less than perfect life we learn that true love can be right under our noses, if only we can recognize it.

This is Going to Hurt Me More Than it Hurts You

2008-12-29T09:00:00.000-08:00

About two months ago, when my Beloved Dallas Cowboys started falling apart, I realized that I am far too emotionally invested in them. It’s a game, after all. But as much as I try to put things into perspective, I can’t seem to do it.

And after Sunday’s spectacular flame-out in Philadelphia I struggled to understand how a team could get rolled over like that and seem completely ambivalent about being so thoroughly embarrassed. This is the conclusion I’ve come to: The way they care about the game and the way fans care are gulfs apart.

I grew up cheering for the Cowboys. The pain of going 1-15 in 1989, though dulled by three Super Bowls in the 90s, stays with me. That memory, and a host of other disappointments collected over the years, is what us fans carry with us into each new season.

The difference is the players don’t see it that way. Odds are they didn’t grow up living and dying by how their team performed so those ghosts don’t follow them onto the field. Their points of view are completely different because they usually don’t have much historical perspective. Grow up in Michigan, go to college in California, get drafted by Arizona, get traded to Dallas. So while Sunday’s beating at the hands of a division rival was surely a disappointment, they can be coolly level-headed and logical about it.

Watch any playoff game this weekend and you will see that fans are neither logical nor level-headed.

Turn Off The Lights on Your Way Out

2008-12-18T07:44:00.000-08:00

Texas Stadium, home to God’s favorite team, will host its final regular season game on Saturday. I’ve only seen a few games there myself and as a building it’s pretty underwhelming. And for watching on TV I hate how during afternoon games the shadow from the hole in the roof would practically black-out half the field. And it never had much of a home-field advantage because it never seemed to get as loud in there as other stadiums.

But it has become a global icon and undoubtedly the most recognizable sports arena in the world, with the lone exception being maybe the Roman Coliseum.

Frank Luksa, one of the few Cowboys beat reporters from over the years that actually has a brain in his head has put together a list of his top 10 games played there.

Frank Luksa’s Top 10 Texas Stadium Games
Texas Stadium will complete its 37th and final regular season as home field of the Dallas Cowboys on Saturday. Before its hole in the roof is turned into a hole in the ground, I pause to reminisce.

I have seen virtually every game there since 1971 and reduced more than 300 of them to a top 10 of my most memorable. To qualify, a game had to produce a scene never seen before and not likely to repeat.

For instance, I rejected the game (Oct. 27, 2002) in which Emmitt Smith set the NFL career rushing record. Even though it was a historic achievement, it lacked suspense. That Smith would pass Walter Payton's 16,726-yard total was a certainty and a mere waiting game until the moment arrived.

Here, in my opinion, are the top 10 games in Texas Stadium history.

1. Dallas 35, Washington 34 (Dec. 16, 1979)

This was Roger Staubach's last hurrah, his 21st fourth-quarter comeback and one of 14 in the final two minutes. His second touchdown pass in the last four minutes -- an 8-yard fade route to Tony Hill with 39 seconds left -- supplied a he's-done-it-again climax.

The game featured a series of wild surges. Washington scored the first 17 points, Dallas the next 21, Washington 17 more in succession and Dallas the final 14. The game included the most famous tackle in Texas Stadium history -- defensive lineman Larry Cole's third-down stop of John Riggins to prevent the Redskins from deep-freezing their 34-28 lead.

All-in stakes rode with the outcome, another reason even Hail Mary author Staubach described it as "absolutely the most thrilling 60 minutes I ever spent on a football field.'' Bitter rival Washington drew a playoff blank. The Cowboys won the NFC East title, their last hurrah under Staubach.

Staubach's Hall of Fame career ended a week later on an incongruous note during a 21-19 playoff loss to the Los Angeles Rams. He completed his last NFL pass to guard Herb Scott, an ineligible receiver.

2. Dallas 24, Washington 23 (Nov. 28, 1974)
No one can pinpoint the genesis of when the Cowboys-Redskins series turned mean and nasty, and then got worse. It was ornery enough before Diron Talbert's pregame threat to disengage Roger Staubach from his senses.

"We put Staubach out and all they've got is that [Clint]) Longley kid,'' said the Redskins' defensive lineman, unaware that answered prayers can boomerang.

Talbert looked prescient when the Redskins sidelined Staubach with a concussion and rookie Longley entered. Nicknamed "The Mad Bomber" for bouncing passes off Tom Landry's coaching tower in training camp, Longley inherited a hopeless-looking 16-3 deficit early in the third quarter.

He wound up winning the game with a 50-yard touchdown pass to Drew Pearson with 35 seconds left.

"I was in the huddle when he called basically the last play of the game, and we all knew it wouldn't work. So it was, 'OK, let's get this over with,' " recalled fullback Walt Garrison. "Who's going to throw a 50-yard pass for a touchdown? They'll have Drew covered like a blanket. He'll probably throw a 5-yard out to me or Duane Thomas and hope we can run for a touchdown. Hell, I hadn't run 40 yards in my life. I guess that was the only game Longley had that was worth anything, wasn't it?''

This was true. In the summer of '76, Longley sucker-punched Staubach in the locker room at training camp, was traded and faded from the NFL. Nevertheless, his heroics remain immortalized by guard Blaine Nye, who analyzed them as "a triumph of the uncluttered mind.''
3. Miami 16, Dallas 14 (Nov. 25, 1993)
A freak snow-and-sleet storm left Texas Stadium's surface glazed on Thanksgiving, a day forever frozen in infamy by a confused Leon Lett.

Jimmie Jones blocked a 47-yard field goal by Pete Stoyanovich to preserve an apparent 14-13 Dallas victory with scant seconds left to play. As the ball rolled toward the Cowboys' end zone, Dallas players waved their arms in a distinct don't-touch-it warning, like a safe call in baseball.

Lett never got the message. The defensive lineman ran through three lounging Dolphins, stop signs from teammates and ankle-high slush for purposes unknown to this day. Whatever his muddled intent, he kicked the ball to the Cowboys' 1-yard line, where Miami recovered. Stoyanovich converted a 19-yard field goal with 3 seconds remaining to saddle the disbelieving Cowboys with their most bizarre home loss.

"There were 11 men on the field and 10 of them knew what to do,'' sighed special teams coach Joe Avezzano.

4. Dallas 42, Green Bay 31 (Nov. 24, 1994)
Troy Aikman and Rodney Peete were hurt. Neither would play. That left No. 3 quarterback Jason Garrett overmatched against Packers ace Brett Favre.

So it seemed when Green Bay intercepted Garrett's first pass. More evidence of Garrett in over his head arrived at the half with the Packers ahead 17-6. What else could anyone expect? This was second-year Garrett's first NFL start; he'd been inactive the first 10 games of the season and not terribly active thereafter.

What followed has never been explained except in supernatural terms. Garrett produced five touchdowns in less than 19 minutes of the second half. It's his signature on a franchise-record 36 points scored in the second half. He finished with 311 yards passing, two touchdowns and one first-play interception.

Garrett also finished somewhat dazed by what he'd done.

"If this is a fairy tale, so be it,'' he suggested.

5. Philadelphia 27, Dallas 0 (Nov. 23, 1989)
Ah, the Bounty Bowl, when Eagles coach Buddy Ryan allegedly offered $200 to knock kicker Luis Zendejas out of the game and $500 for a Troy Aikman KO.

Things got testy between Eagles coach Buddy Ryan, above, and Jimmy Johnson in 1989.
The charge originated with Zendejas, who claimed he taped the threats via a phone conversation with a Philadelphia source but never produced it for anyone to hear. It didn't matter since it was easier to cast Ryan as a villain who'd already stooped to score a rub-it-in TD against Tom Landry and harpooned successor Jimmy Johnson as a suspect NFL head coach.

"Tell Jimmy there won't be any East Carolinas or Cincinnatis on his schedule,'' Ryan needled when Johnson replaced Landry.

Even after Ryan failed to machine-gun the lifeboats and pulled his regulars late, Johnson was furious at the finish. He bolted to midfield looking for Ryan, thereby prolonging the lack of emphasis on the lousy season unfolding in Dallas.

"I would have said something to Buddy, but he wouldn't stand on the field long enough. He got his fat rear end into the dressing room,'' Johnson snapped.

NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue's investigation predictably cleared the Eagles of plotting naughty things against the Cowboys. The sour aftermath caused curious minds to ponder what might happen in a Buddy-Jimmy rematch later in Philly.

"I wonder if they're going to shake hands … or arm wrestle,'' said Dave Widell of the Cowboys. Nothing untoward occurred between Johnson or Ryan, but it was the game in which Eagles fans pelted Johnson with snow balls (batteries included).

6. Dallas 38, Cincinnati 10 (Nov. 4, 1973)
The greatest one-man show by a middle linebacker and no one else remembers? Good grief. How could anyone forget?

Lee Roy Jordan intercepted three passes from Ken Anderson and returned one 31 yards for a TD. That alone is a remarkable feat for any linebacker and a fancy haul for a defensive back. But wait. It's only a tease.

Jordan intercepted three passes in the first quarter! But wait again. There is more to tell. Jordan made all his interceptions within the span of five minutes! I knew that Jordan stole three but not until I researched old newspaper accounts did the five-minute interval resurface.

I insist that's a record for most picks in the least amount of time in NFL history and await dissenting proof. Jordan's 32 career steals led me to the Elias Sports Bureau to check how Jordan, who played from 1962 to '76, ranked on the all-time list of most interceptions by NFL linebackers.

As expected, he ranked high, tied for third with Miami's Nick Buoniconti (1969-76) and Jack Ham (1971-82) of Pittsburgh. Who is the interception leader? He's Don Shinnick (Baltimore, 1957-68) with 37, followed by Stan White (Baltimore, 1972-79; Detroit 1980-82) with 34. (Elias and I accept your thanks for this information.)

Here is one last note about Jordan, who last played 31 years ago. He still ranks No. 7 on the Cowboys' all-time interception list, ahead of a couple of defensive backs named Cliff Harris (29) and Darren Woodson (23).

7. Dallas 38, San Francisco 21 (Jan. 23, 1994)
The game itself paled in astonishment to what occurred before a duel began for the NFC championship.

This was the play-in game for the Super Bowl, when countdown nerves are taut and no one pops off because loose lips sink ships.

Therefore all was quiet on both fronts. Or it was until …

Jimmy Johnson did something no NFL coach in memory ever did or even thought of doing. First, he called a local radio sports show. Johnson then announced to a baffled talk show host and a stunned audience that the Cowboys would beat the 49ers. Players have guaranteed victories before and after Joe Namath made it a popular gesture; I never heard a head coach with enough nerve or stupidity to do it publicly.

"We will win the ballgame,'' Johnson predicted. "You can put that in three-inch high headlines.''

What made Johnson boast? Well, he was ultra-confident and forever cocky. Like when he was asked if the Cowboys might not have been so successful without Troy Aikman.
"They'd still had me,'' Johnson half-joked.

Others said Johnson was so worked up over the game he couldn't contain himself. Another insider report hinted that some of his bravado could have been Heineken-fueled.
San Francisco coach George Seifert considered Johnson's remark with admiration and bemusement.

"Well, the man has balls. I'll say that,'' Seifert began. "I don't know if they're brass or papier-maché. We'll find out.''

They were brass.

8. San Francisco 41, Dallas 24 (Sept. 24, 2000)
George Teague became captain of my All-Hero team for his tangle with a visiting peacock. Teague knocked Terrell Owens on his butt.

Well, you say, that is supposed to happen when Teague played safety and Owens wide receiver for the 49ers. Yes, but this was different.

It occurred after Owens caught a touchdown pass and for the second time celebrated by racing to midfield where he stood astride the Cowboys star emblem and posed with upraised arms. A blur of blue interrupted the scene and knocked Owens on his pompous rear. That was Teague, the only Cowboy with enough chest hair to physically retaliate against a rank insult with the 49ers ahead, 41-17.

Emmitt Smith had offered a psychological reproach after matching Owens' first TD. He ran to the 50-yard line and spiked the ball on the spot Owens had desecrated. But it took Teague to make the proper response.

"The first time it was, 'OK, you got us. You got your hurrahs,'" said Teague. "But to go back again is where you cross the line. Then it becomes disrespectful.

"We were losing by three touchdowns, maybe four. It was about 145 degrees on the turf and nothing was going our way. I had an intuition that if Owens scored again he'd do something crazy. I made up my mind that if he scores again and grandstands there'll be a fight. Before I knew it I whacked Owens pretty good. What I really appreciated was being quick enough to duck a 300-pounder who then went after me.''

Because Owens later signed with the Cowboys, this incident is hardly ever talked about.

9. Dallas 44, New England 21 (Oct. 24, 1971)
Texas Stadium, with its unique hole-in-the-roof design and thus nicknamed a half-Astrodome, opened to popular acclaim by everyone except the players.

When Texas Stadium opened in 1971, it reminded some players of the Roman Colosseum.
Three complaints arose about the 65,000-seat playpen owner Clint Murchison Jr. built in suburban Irving. First, the field was too hard.

"I dunno what kind of turf it was but if you slid it cut hell out of you. It was harder than Chinese arithmetic,'' said Walt Garrison.

"I'd have to say that old-school guys hated the stadium,'' said Larry Cole. "We used to talk about the Christians, lions and gladiators in the context that all those fat cats up in boxes were drinking scotches and we were the peons down there getting paid very little to entertain them.

"Our concept of football was more like the Cotton Bowl with the crowd outside and involved. You didn't watch a football game with a coat and tie on from a box.''

Third, fans were protected from the elements by an overhang, but players beneath the open hole weren't.

"Hell, if Clint wanted us to fight the elements why didn't he just roof the SOB over and put in a sprinkler system?'' Charlie Waters wondered.

However, negative opinions later softened.

"As time went on it's like, 'This is a pretty nice place,''' said Cole. "What was really nice was when we started playing games there in December. The cold wind didn't blow through the hole in the roof. I loved playing there during the playoffs.''

Murchison's $50,000 tag on Circle Suites was originally accepted as absurdly overpriced when, in retrospect, they were the best real estate buy in north Texas. Some soon resold for $500,000 and up.

10. Green Bay 20, Dallas 10 (Dec. 24, 1989)
Surely no one else remembers anything about a game that ended the maiden season of the Jones-Johnson era with a shiver. The result capped a forlorn 1-15 season with a seven-game losing streak on a subfreezing afternoon.

Why would a visually and physically numbing game stick in my memory? Recall that my criteria for top-10 inclusion should contain an unexpected or unprecedented element. This one qualified because for the only time in Texas Stadium history it was so cold that …

Toilets froze.

I pondered how to combine the frigid scene and 1-15 finish with my usual vibrant prose. Hence I remain pleased to have written:

"The 1989 season was so bad it wouldn't even flush.''

Frank Luksa is a freelance writer based in Plano, Texas. He was a longtime sports columnist for The Dallas Times Herald and Dallas Morning News. Luksa and former Cowboy Drew Pearson are authors of "Remembering Texas Stadium."

Run ASGS, Run

2008-12-16T09:11:00.000-08:00

A Slacker Gringo Stomp Takes to the Streets
Thousands Watch as Trio Demonstrates the Power of Spare Time

DALLAS, Texas - Dec. 15, 2008 – More than 17,000 people gathered in Dallas on Sunday to escort half of A Slacker Gringo Stomp through downtown during the Dallas White Rock Half Marathon. Jeremy, Melissa…and…um…ok…there he is…Lance completed the 13.1 mile course while approximately half the city looked on.

“What these three individuals have done will stand as an inspiration for Dallas, no, America, for years to come,” said Dallas mayor Tom Leppert. “They started at one end of American Airlines Center and finished at the other end of American Airlines Center. That’s a distance of about 350 feet. But they chose a route nearly 200 times longer and considerably less efficient. And instead of walking, they ran. That kind of logic is typically reserved for politicians and BCS voters. This is truly a marvel.”

The marathon was the first event for the ASGS Running Team and marked the first time since July that such awesomeness was assembled in one place. Thanks to an injury to Jonathan, Rhonda’s job commitment, and Donna’s abject lack of interest, the trio faced the event without their significant others.

“I would have done it, but I have a physiological reaction to running that is quite scary,” Donna said. “My breathing is labored, I become fatigued, and I begin to sweat. Those are the same symptoms as malaria, so I’m not taking any chances.”

The half marathon was just part of a weekend that included other feats of skill such as horse shoes, darts, ping pong and a game of Who Can Throw the Football and Make it Stick in the Baby Swing.

Next time you are at Whole Foods...

2008-11-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

It seems like every time I go to Whole Foods I end up in the bathroom. Maybe the conditions are just right in such a green environment that I simply hear the call of nature...but I think more than that I simply want to see if the water saving, poo composting, granola eating crowd is being true to hardcore environmentalism. If the average person can subscribe to the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" tenant then shouldn't the more hardcore of the environmental movement take it a step further? But, each time I go into the bathrooms there the water is as clear as Jessica Simpson's face (post Proactiv of course). This got me thinking-maybe I should make my contribution to the movement in a way that will inspire true hardcore environmentalism to take hold. So, next time I am in Whole Foods I hope I have to go #2 so that I can post my little sign "if it's brown don't flush it down." After all, shouldn't we be willing to deal with a little more stench in order to save the whales and stop climate change? As a bonus, maybe I won't even use toilet paper. I mean, don't we need to save the trees as well?

Tales From A Pre-Kindergarten Teacher (May 2008)

2008-05-30T16:49:00.000-07:00

Timothy volunteered to pray before lunch one day. This is what he said: Dear God, please help my mom to not say bad words. Help me not to sleep with gum in my mouth. Help my mom and dad to get along. In Jesus name, Amen.

When talking about the beheading of John the Baptist, Ivan said that he wished that God’s big hand could just pick up John’s head and put it back on.

This is the answer I got when I asked Timothy the definition of a mustache. A mustache is something that stays on your nose for a lot of days.

Amiracle’s feelings got hurt the other day. She said, “Everyone is laughing at me except for me.”

The children were talking about special things they could do for their moms in honor of Mother's Day. Their suggestions included: flowers, cards, doing mom's chores, giving her a hug and kiss. The best suggestion was from Timothy who is an avid fan of the "Bibleman" movies. Timothy said he wanted to give his mom a sword for Mother's Day. I asked him if he she would really like a sword or if that is something he would like as a gift. He assured me that his mother would love to have a sword so that she can protect herself.

During lunch time, Gabriel and Timothy were trying to remember the three members of the Trinity. Gabriel said, “Holy Spirit, Jesus and …” Before he could finish his thought, Timothy suggested, “Bibleman?”

During nap time I told Gabriel (who had not fallen asleep) that he could read a book until I woke up the other children in five minutes. He said, “That’s what time my church ends, at five minutes!”

Whenever Nicholas gets distracted in the classroom, I tell him that if he keeps his eyes on me, then he will learn. If he does not keep his eyes on me and participate, then he will not learn. Recently I assessed him on his letter recognition. I noticed a significant improvement in his ability to identify letters and their sounds. I asked him if he and his mom had been practicing with the letter flashcards I had sent home. He said, “No, I have just been keeping my eyes on you.” This was a reminder to me to keep my eyes on Jesus. I will learn and grow if I stay focused on the Lord. If I get distracted by all the worries around me, then I will become stunted, never reaching my full potential. The truths I teach my students are the truths I need to hear and practice myself.

My students keep complaining that they have the "hook-ups" instead of the "hick-ups."

Timothy informed me that he could count to 1,009. I told him to try. He counted from 1 to 109 perfectly, then skipped to 1,000 and ended up with 1,009! J If only it were that easy.

I told my students I would be taking pictures of them outside on the playground. Gabriel commented that if I had their pictures then I would never miss them.

My students and I were talking about the kind of food that makes you healthy and strong. Timothy told me that he was “strong and mighty in the Lord’s power.”

Amiracle informed me that her brother was “seven for a long time, and now he’s eight.”

This is how Ivan said that God made angels: he made them, painted them yellow, put wings on them, the put lightening on them to make them bright.

I read a story to my students called, “Katy No Pocket.” There is a crocodile in the story that is friendly and smiles. Timothy wanted to make sure we all knew that the story was pretend. He said, “In this world, crocodiles are mean and don’t smile.”

Ivan comment during prayer time, “Mrs. Gant, you prayed so fast. Did God hear you? I think he did because he has big ears.”

A volunteer was working with Amiracle on recognizing opposites from pictures on cards. She did so well on them that the volunteer encouraged her to make up her own. She came up with a couple of good ones and then looked at the volunteer and offered emphatically "truth and lie." I had been teaching the children about what it means to be wise and foolish. I told them that when you are wise, you know what is right and what is wrong, as well as the difference between the truth and a lie. A foolish person chooses what is wrong and believes lies. I was so excited to hear that wisdom is blooming in this little girl’s heart.

Fun in the Sun

2008-04-30T17:39:00.000-07:00

The Shaums visited Austin this weekend and they flat wore us out. Trinity is 7 and already smarter than me. Zeke is 3 and already bigger than me. Eden is only four months old and has redder hair than me.

We took them to the pool on Saturday and Zeke wanted to ride the water slide. This will go down in history as the day Zeke became a man.

Demonstrating that he has more mettle than I did at his age, he climbed the stairs to the top of the slide while we watched from below. We were wondering how high he would get before realizing what the hell he was getting himself into. From where we were, at the end of the slide, we lost sight of Zeke momentarily when he reached the top, but we saw the lifeguard toss aside a life jacket that looked suspiciously like the one Zeke was wearing (not allowed on the slide). Surely the lifeguard, who as far as anyone knows is PAID to keep people from DROWNING, would not jettison Zeke’s life jacket?

Heck yes she would. The next thing we knew Zeke was careening toward us, sans life jacket. He plunged into the pool where Craig snatched him up. I was still kind of amazed he went through with it and watched to see if the look on his face was exhilaration or terror.
It was actually confusion.

Apparently he was as puzzled as we were about the lifeguard’s decision to remove the life jacket because when Craig lifted him out of the water and he caught his breath, the first thing he said was, “I can’t swim.” This was not a panicked, “I CAN’T SWIM!” like someone may invoke while being pulled away by the tide, but more like a general statement of fact, like…, “not sure what that broad was thinking, but I can’t swim.”

The second thing he said was, “she took my life jacket!” This was a little closer to panic, though tempered now that he was safe. He repeated it a couple of times, as if trying to make sense of why on earth an adult, someone who is SUPPOSED to take care of him, would do something as STUPID as send him down a gigantic water slide without a life jacket, essentially signing his death warrant?

Then, in what I think was a gesture of defiance to his would-be assassin, Zeke hauled his stones back up the stairs and went again.

Car Talk

2008-04-19T07:55:00.000-07:00

Donna is in the process of shopping for some new wheels, and that is a post for another time, but it got me thinking about how utterly UN-interested in cars I am. I don't think it's uncommon for guys these days to know almost nothing about cars, not like our dads who could rebuild carburetors blindfolded. But something happened with my generation and along the way we never mastered this skill. At least I never did.

Even saying all of that, I love listening to Car Talk on NPR on Saturdays. When I dial up Click and Clack on the dial I always stay put. Not because I am a gear head, but because they are fun to listen to. They could do a 90-minute show about sewing and I would probably listen. Donna likes it too, and she knows less about cars than me.

Best Story Ever

2008-04-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

Last night I noticed my friend Nason had a scar above his eye, the kind of scar that usually comes with a good story about how it got there. What he told me qualifies as one of the funniest things I have ever heard.

He was in pre-school, I can't remember how old he said he was, maybe 3 or 4. And there was a kid in his class swinging a toy firetruck around and around by the ladder. Nason wandered into the path of said firetruck and got cracked in the head.

When the teacher called Nason's mom, she said, "Mrs. Hengst, you need to come to the school right now. Nason has been hit by a fire truck." Then she hung up the phone without any additional explanation.

Nason's mom is still pissed.

Tales from a Pre-Kindergarten Teacher

2008-04-06T14:01:00.000-07:00

I was explaining to my students about the Easter tradition of dying Easter eggs. I quickly realized I should have defined my words first when one student exclaimed, “Why do you want to kill Easter eggs?!”

My class was thrilled to take care of another class’s pet fish, Samson, for a few days. Since we had just recently read about Samson in the Bible, they made an instant connection about the name of the fish. One child said, “God will have to tell Samson (in heaven) that there is a fish with his name.” Several children then offered ideas of what they would name a pet fish if they owned one. My three favorite names were: Biblefish after the movie character “Bibleman,” Thomas after Thomas the train, and Mrs. Gant after me, of course.

One day it was very foggy outside. Several students told me it was “froggy” outside. Then another student told me that there must be fog outside because “God is smoking up in heaven.”

Children respond in a variety of ways when they have to sit in time-out for misbehaving in the classroom. Some of them go peacefully, others may kick in anger, cry, or refuse to move. One child showed his resistance by loudly signing our school’s hymn of the month, “O, Victory in Jesus” at the top of his lungs. It was hard not to laugh.

Among the many life skills I teach my students, slicing an apple with an apple slicer is one of their favorites. They love to be splashed by the juice of the apple as they slice it. One day when observing a juicy apple being sliced, one student commented that “the apple is crying.”

Here are some of the response to my question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
a kite flier, a princess, a doctor, a doctor AND a princess, cut down trees and kill ants

I was informed recently by a four year old that “There are two kinds of B’s. There is the letter “B” and the bee that stings you.”

I asked my students to tell me how God created human beings. Some of the answers included, “He squished us and put our skin all over us.” “He made us out of sand, he touched us, and we changed into real life people.” “He made us out of wood.” Then I asked, “Do you mean like Pinocchio?” The child replied, “Yes. Our nose does not get longer like Pinocchio, but our fingernails do.”

Often when my students pray, they tend to use random phrases they have heard others pray. The sentences do not always flow together very well, but you can usually pick up the child’s general meaning. I imagine that God understands them perfectly. One little boy prayed before lunch, “God, give us this day. Help us not be silly and have self-control.”

While I was teaching my students about the events of Holy Week, one student commented that “They (the Roman soldiers) put a crown of thorns on Jesus’ head even though it did not fit. One thing the Roman soldiers did was nice. They got someone else to carry the cross for Jesus.”

I have been trying to explain to my students about how Jesus took the punishment we deserved for our sin. I believe one student in particular has really latched on to the concept. He said, “It broke my heart when Jesus died on MY cross for MY sins. Was I alive when Jesus died in my place?”

I informed my students that we would be watching a movie about the life of Jesus. The next day a little boy told me, “I know what we are going to do today. We are going to watch a movie about someone who can do miracles just like his dad—it’s Jesus!”

If God is my heavenly Father, then who is my heavenly Mother?” one child asked me. After I explained that we only have a heavenly father, another child replied, “If God had a wife, we would call her Mrs. God.”

Child Life Month

2008-03-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

March is Child Life Month, a time of year designated for promoting the importance of child and family development. Donna was featured in the news release below about the importance of child life specialists and the addition of these services to the new hospital. This does a good job explaining her role and I thought you all would be interested in reading about the field she has dedicated herself to.

Seton Medical Center Williamson Eases Hospital Experience for Children
Newest Hospital First to Offer Child Life Services in Williamson County

Round Rock, TX (March 27, 2008) – Difficult or unexpected experiences, such as a trip to the emergency room or the hospitalization of a family member, are upsetting for all involved, but children are particularly vulnerable. To support the unique needs of children during stressful situations, Seton Medical Center Williamson (SMCW) offers Child Life Services.

Trained professionals, called Child Life Specialists, are vital members of the healthcare team at SMCW. These certified specialists are experts in child development who help children cope through play, preparation, education and self-expression.

“When I work with a child, one of my goals is to help them understand and cope with the hospital environment on their terms,” said Donna Brown-Looper, one of two Child Life Specialists on staff at SMCW. “For example, if a child arrives at the Emergency Department with a broken bone, I help them prepare for the procedure by explaining what will happen or how the medical instruments will be used – all on a level that the child understands.”

Brown-Looper also offers children their choice of coping strategies which gives them some control over stressful medical situations. Children can choose to be distracted by a toy, book or music, squeeze stress balls or practice deep breathing. Stress can be a major inhibitor in the ability of a patient to heal and stay well.

“Sometimes giving the child a simple job during a procedure, such as holding a bandage for the nurse, can help alleviate stress,” she added.

Since opening in February, more than 340 children have come to SMCW’s Emergency Department, making this area a key focus for Child Life Services. In addition, the Child Life Specialists provide support to children who are admitted to the hospital’s pediatric inpatient unit or children who have family members in the hospital.

The hospital’s playroom is a refuge for children trying to deal with these difficult circumstances. “It may sound simple, but encouraging play helps children normalize their environment,” said Brown-Looper. “It’s a setting where they are the leader. They have the opportunity to act out anxiety and fears and express their feelings.”

“The Child Life program is a great example of how Seton Medical Center Williamson combines the best in complex care with a more holistic healing approach that addresses the mind, body and spirit,” said Michelle Robertson, vice president and chief operating officer, Seton Medical Center Williamson.

As the program grows, Brown-Looper hopes to expand services to more areas of the hospital, as well as offer much-needed community services such as support groups for children with chronic illnesses and infant/child car seat checks to ensure proper use.

Calling all Cars

2008-03-09T18:29:00.000-07:00

On Friday night Donna and I were watching some news coverage of the two college girls murdered last week. Very sad, to be sure. But as we were watching, the crawler at the bottom of the screen flashed the following item:

"Anyone who sees a Honda Civic should call police immediately."

Anyone? I think this particular cable outlet broadcasts to about 50 million people worldwide, and Honda has sold about 100 billion Civics in the past 20 years, so this call to action seems a little alarmist to me. I could have walked out into the parking lot of the pizza place we were at in Round Rock, Texas, and read the license numbers of seven Civics.

Not sure any of them had any bearing on the events in Chapel Hill or Auburn.

Cowboys and Poets

2008-03-03T17:46:00.000-08:00

Donna and I attended the 22nd Annual Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Alpine this weekend. Nothing speaks to the diversity of Texas like a cowboy reciting Whitman. The poetry was fun, but the highlight for me was the change of pace from Austin. Brewster County has a population density of about 1 person per square mile, so it was nice getting away from the crowded city.

My affection for the great state of Texas was bolstered by the diversity of what we saw. Where the Hill Country/Austin region is known for its plentiful natural resources, the plains of West Texas are just as striking for its barrenness. The irony of this is the relationships the people in these areas have with their surroundings. For example, my company’s headquarters in Austin is situated on a nice, wooded campus complete with acres and acres of juniper sage and live oak trees. We also have a spring-fed pond and a nature trail. I have a great view of all of this from my fifth floor office window.

But the places we visited this weekend are at the other end of the spectrum. Technically a desert, the area is dry rocky, yet agriculture is the primary industry. Seems backwards for me to be cooped up in an office in Austin where just about anything and everything flourishes while ranchers and farmers scratch out a living in some of the most unforgiving terrain anywhere.

31

2008-02-27T20:25:00.000-08:00

Donna's 31st birthday is Saturday. I met her when she was 18 and, gosh, a lot happens in 13 years. To celebrate, we're heading out of town for a nice long weekend. We're going to a cowboy poetry gathering in Alpine, Texas, and a few days in the dessert is just what the doctor ordered.

Anyway, Donna will be 31, which means we are the same age for the next several months before I jump ahead of her again.

Lowest Common Denominator

2008-02-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

I've noticed that when guys get together our conversation is completely dependant on how many of us there are. For example, two guys talking will discuss issues like social reform, the influence of Dickens on Victorian literature, or the incommunicable attributes of God.

But throw another dude into the mix and the subject matter deteriorates at a staggering rate. Something happens when the number grows beyond two of us and educated, philosophical commentary turns into punching each other in the nuts and wondering out loud who would stand a better chance in a fight with Mike Tyson.

Super Bowl

2008-02-05T09:23:00.000-08:00

It took me until nearly kick-off to decide which team I hated more in the Super Bowl, but I eventually settled on the Patriots. So as much as it bummed me out to watch the Giants win the championship that Dallas should have won, I was glad we no longer have to listen to how Tom Brady will wash away our sins.

I did see something cool on SportsCenter yesterday though. It was Eli and Peyton at Eli's locker after the game laughing and smiling. From experience, I can tell you that few things in life compare to the feeling of doing something that impresses your big brother.

Dig What You Do

2008-01-28T19:12:00.000-08:00

What would life be like in a world where everyone really enjoyed their work? Imagine how much more pleasant a call to the Cingular customer service department would be if the person on the other end of the line really wanted to be there.

Alas, most of us working stiffs, even the ones lucky enough to work in our chosen fields, find it difficult to continuously stoke the fires of enthusiasm for 40-plus hours a week, 12 months a year.

Today I came across this editorial in Newsweek from Christopher Nolan about Heath Ledger, whom Nolan directed as the Joker in the forthcoming Batman movie. I understand that pretending to be an iconic comic book villain isn't on par with, say, the demands of being a nurse or an accountant, but talk about someone who enjoyed their work...

Charisma as Natural as Gravity

Best known for his haunting, Oscar-nominated performance as Ennis Del Mar, one of the gay cowboys in 2005 ' s "Brokeback Mountain," Ledger was a massive young talent on the cusp of greatness when he died last week in New York. The native Australian, who is survived by his 2-year-old daughter, Matilda, had recently finished work on this summer's "Batman" sequel, "The Dark Knight," in which he plays a villain, the Joker. Christopher Nolan, the film's director, shared these memories:

One night, as I'm standing on LaSalle Street in Chicago, trying to line up a shot for "The Dark Knight," a production assistant skateboards into my line of sight. Silently, I curse the moment that Heath first skated onto our set in full character makeup. I'd fretted about the reaction of Batman fans to a skateboarding Joker, but the actual result was a proliferation of skateboards among the younger crew members. If you'd asked those kids why they had chosen to bring their boards to work, they would have answered honestly that they didn't know. That's real charisma—as invisible and natural as gravity. That's what Heath had.

Heath was bursting with creativity. It was in his every gesture. He once told me that he liked to wait between jobs until he was creatively hungry. Until he needed it again. He brought that attitude to our set every day. There aren't many actors who can make you feel ashamed of how often you complain about doing the best job in the world. Heath was one of them.
One time he and another actor were shooting a complex scene. We had two days to shoot it, and at the end of the first day, they'd really found something and Heath was worried that he might not have it if we stopped. He wanted to carry on and finish. It's tough to ask the crew to work late when we all know there's plenty of time to finish the next day. But everyone seemed to understand that Heath had something special and that we had to capture it before it disappeared. Months later, I learned that as Heath left the set that night, he quietly thanked each crew member for working late. Quietly. Not trying to make a point, just grateful for the chance to create that they'd given him.

Those nights on the streets of Chicago were filled with stunts. These can be boring times for an actor, but Heath was fascinated, eagerly accepting our invitation to ride in the camera car as we chased vehicles through movie traffic—not just for the thrill ride, but to be a part of it. Of everything. He'd brought his laptop along in the car, and we had a high-speed screening of two of his works-in-progress: short films he'd made that were exciting and haunting. Their exuberance made me feel jaded and leaden. I've never felt as old as I did watching Heath explore his talents. That night I made him an offer—knowing he wouldn't take me up on it—that he should feel free to come by the set when he had a night off so he could see what we were up to.

When you get into the edit suite after shooting a movie, you feel a responsibility to an actor who has trusted you, and Heath gave us everything. As we started my cut, I would wonder about each take we chose, each trim we made. I would visualize the screening where we'd have to show him the finished film—sitting three or four rows behind him, watching the movements of his head for clues to what he was thinking about what we'd done with all that he'd given us. Now that screening will never be real. I see him every day in my edit suite. I study his face, his voice. And I miss him terribly.

Back on LaSalle Street, I turn to my assistant director and I tell him to clear the skateboarding kid out of my line of sight when I realize—it's Heath, woolly hat pulled low over his eyes, here on his night off to take me up on my offer. I can't help but smile.

Free ride...um, I mean, free speech

2008-01-12T16:06:00.000-08:00

Austin's solicitation laws are pretty lax, so most street corners are populated with panhandlers. It's not uncommon to see three or four people working the same intersection during peak hours. There have been efforts to curb this in the past, but with good enough lawyerin', I suppose you could squeeze just about anything underneath the protective umbrella of the First Amendment.

But I saw a guy today with a sign that read: "I aint proud of this, but at least I'm not robbing houses or selling drugs."

I suppose that logic makes a pretty compelling case for begging on the street, but I wonder where getting a job falls into his world view?

Perception and Reality

2008-01-08T19:33:00.000-08:00

More times than I can count this week I have heard the term "perception is reality" used with complete abandon. This is a sampling of the disparate conversations in which this phrase has been bandied about:

1. A discussion about the NFL playoffs
2. During an NPR story about the Middle East
3. In a conversation at work

First, for the phrase itself to have even a modicum of validity, it would need to be revised to say "perception is a reality" but that still doesn't address the heart of the issue.

What people really mean when they say this is that they are too lazy to find out what the reality is. Instead, they are going to let their perceptions drive their behavior. And, in case they are wrong, they can justify it simply by spouting off that trite little phrase. The implication is that people are responsible for how they are perceived, and as long as someone's behavior supports their perception, it's cool.

I am hereby removing this jargon from the English language. Violators will have their tongues removed.

Attack Deer vs. Wild

2007-12-31T10:50:00.000-08:00

Every guy sees himself as an outdoorsman. It doesn’t matter how civilized or soft life makes us, we are all positive that, if we wanted to, we could strap on a backpack and disappear into the wilderness for a great adventure. This is why places like REI and Patagonia are usually visible from the freeway.

A couple of years ago Jonathan and Jeremy ( both true disciples of Jeremiah Johnson and among a handful of people I know who possess a genuine knowledge of the great outdoors) and I went backpacking in New Mexico where Jonathan was about to start working. This is a picture from the last night on the trail and when I think of 'Lance the Outdoorsman', this is the image that comes to mind.

Most guys have a picture like this somewhere in their house, one that shows how rugged they are. They are usually holding up a trout or kneeling next to a dead animal. Or instead of a picture, they may have the animal itself displayed on their wall as a testament to their toughness.

The story this picture tells, at least the story we want it to tell, is about how we journeyed into the woods and lived off the fat of the land, taking advantage of the great bounty God provided. But this isn’t really true. It’s not exactly false, but in the interest of complete disclosure, and to help illustrate my previous point, I think it’s important to know the background of this picture.

This was the fourth (I think) and final night of our trip and earlier that afternoon we had emerged from the national forest (can’t remember which one, Santa Fe maybe?) and set up camp in a clearing overlooking part of the Pecos River. On a side note, the house Jonathan and his family will soon occupy is being built in that same clearing.

Anyway, after we set up camp for the final night, we started thinking about what we would do for dinner. Four days of dehydrated and freeze dried food had taken its toll and we were all looking forward to something different. The only wildlife we saw over the course of the previous three days was a rattlesnake and we were hopeful that being up on the prairie would yield a rabbit or two for the spit.

But our patience got the better of us and instead of rabbit we opted for the friendlier fare of a nearby restaurant. We ate heartily and headed back to camp for one more night in the high desert before heading home. It was dusk when we got back to the ranch and there were rabbits everywhere. So we did what every guy in that situation would do, we killed a couple of them. And despite our full stomachs, we cleaned and cooked them.

We didn’t do this because we were hungry and nobody wore a rabbit skin hat out of the woods the next day. Mostly, I think, we did it in order to live up to the image we had of ourselves. And I like how this picture captures that image, however real or imagined it might be.

Watch your top knot, pilgrim.

Attack Deer Welcomes Eden Kora Shaum

2007-12-20T15:01:00.001-08:00

Craig and Lee Ann, congratulations on the hat trick.

Don't Take this the Wrong Way

2007-12-17T19:44:00.000-08:00

Donna, like most of us this week, is taking part in that bastion of office-place Christmas spirit known as Secret Santa.

Donna's "Jingle Buddy" is new to her department, recently relocating from Chicago. So Donna thought it would be nice to make a CD with some Texas artists to welcome them to the Great Lone Star State.

And because Donna happens to be married to a renowned music critic and pundit, she asked me to select the songs for the disc. So last night I dutifully sat down and put together a list of 13 choice selections representing the very best rock, blues, country and swing music that Texas-born talent has to offer.

But tonight as we were listening to our own copy of the CD, it dawned on us that it's very possible this gift could be...well...misinterpreted. It's likely we are over analyzing this, but there are two factors at work that may create some awkwardness.

First, Donna's Jingle Buddy is a dude.

Second, the CD contains some suggestive lyrics that take on a completely different personality when given as a gift to a co-worker. A sampling of said lyrics follows:

You look romantic layin' in the hay

I need you tonight in a new kind of way

When you look at me with those eyes

It makes me start to fantasize

Do it to me like I know you could

So I can do it to you baby like a Texan should

As I think of the past and all the pleasures we had

As I watch the mating of the dove

It was in the springtime when you said goodbye

I remember our faded love

Merry Christmas, but not in that way.

I'd Like to Buy a Stupid

2007-12-09T09:11:00.000-08:00

I have always thought the least interesting programming you could air on the radio is baseball. The absence of any real, sustained action makes it pretty unbearable even on TV, but listeing to it on the radio is even more futile.

But I've changed my mind and baseball has been bumped to #2 on that list. The other night on my way home from work I was scanning the F.M. dial and came across a radio broadcast of, and this is just too stupid to make up, Wheel of Fortune.

I can't think of any game show that would be even the least bit appropriate for the radio format, let alone the one that REQUIRES you to see what is going on.

Funniest Thing Ever

2007-11-30T16:32:00.000-08:00

Click on the link below for a Christmas greeting from Chloe and Hannah.
http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1123941542

Attack Deer at the Movies

2007-11-27T18:19:00.000-08:00

Donna and I see a lot of movies, it’s one of our favorite things to do. We probably average a couple of movies a month, and it’s not that unusual for us to see a couple in a single weekend. We’re usually not that critical, but occasionally we’ll see one that throws up all over itself. This was the case last weekend when we went to see No Country for Old Men.

The buzz around this movie has been strong, and it’s got several things going for it that Donna and I were pretty excited about. First, it’s based on a novel by Cormac McCarthy, who also wrote the book that one of our all-time favorite movies, All the Pretty Horses, is based on. Second, it has Tommy Lee Jones playing a sheriff and nobody flexes the long arm of the law like Woodrow Call himself. Finally, it’s a gangster movie and gangster movies are always cool.

But even with all of these promising elements, we left the theatre laughing at the sheer stupidity of it.

No Country for Old Men starts off promising enough. Some dude wanders onto the scene of a drug deal that has gone tits up. Dead bodies are everywhere and in the gory aftermath someone has dropped a bag of money. The rest of the movie is about the gangsters trying to get their money back.

This is when we started to get the idea that this movie might be heading south. Milton from Office Space is the king pin for crying out loud. And the goon they sent to get the money looks just like a goon somebody would send to get the money. To me, the very first qualification of a hit man would be someone who can blend in. But if you saw this guy walking down the street, you’d call the police and tell them there was a hit man walking down the street.
Tommy Lee Jones plays (unintentionally) the laziest (and maybe the dumbest) cop to ever be sworn in. He can’t figure out who in the world is killing every dang thing in town, but in just about every scene he’s just sitting in some diner reading the paper. Actually going outside and trying to find the psychopathic killer never seems to become a real option until it’s time for him to retire.

For good measure, throw in Woody from Cheers as a bounty hunter and an ending that’s as unimaginative as cafeteria meat loaf and you got yourself the next big movie of 2007. Every once in a while it becomes very fashionable to like something. This is how completely horrible movies like Crash win Oscars.

Attack Deer Goes Green

2007-11-09T20:11:00.000-08:00

That droning sound in the background is Al Gore, still yammering about global warming. And unfortunately he’s not alone on Mother Earth’s bandwagon. So, in an effort to get all of these prophets of doom to shut the hell up, Attack Deer is joining the crusade by doing its part to save the planet.

First, you should know that all of the words you are reading are composed of 100 percent post-consumer letters. Letters are actually very versatile, able to be rearranged and used over and over again – much like plastic water bottles or Brittany Spears.

Second, Attack Deer is now running on ethanol. In fact, we can be anywhere in the world with the push of a button without using any fossil fuels whatsoever. Plus, deer are naturally vegetarian so by not consuming beef, we are not supporting the culprits most responsible for the production of greenhouse gasses – cattle.

I am all for conservation, but the pendulum has swung so far in one direction that the green movement has started to look a lot like the red scare. Duck and cover. Paper or plastic?

Of course, the ridiculous amount of hand-wringing going on over the environment might be just what the doctor ordered to get us thinking seriously about taking care of what we have.

I actually had an idea of my own that could help stave off the certain death that Mr. Gore assures me is just around the corner. It’s become trendy in Austin to carry a canvas bag for grocery shopping. Use the same bag every time and there’s no need to worry about environmentally-unfriendly grocery bags piling up in your kitchen cabinet. But my idea is even better. What if you were not allowed to carry any bags at all? This way you would be compelled to buy only what you can carry in your hands. This would make people think long and hard about what they pick up.

Think about the benefits. People would be healthier because they would never leave the grocery store with more than a handful of food. Plus, you would naturally eat fresher foods because a bag of peaches is easier to carry than a can of peaches. Less food to take home means less food to store, so you can turn off the refrigerator, reducing your carbon footprint. You would also have to make more trips to the store, so more walking.

This is an irrational approach, I know. But if I were a democrat they would be handing me Nobel prizes.

The Fifth Food Group

2007-11-01T14:21:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, I'm past the point in my life when this news would have impacted me. But there was a time when this would have been devastating to both my budget and my health...

Frozen pizzas recalled due to E. coli
Totino's and Jeno's brands may have contaminated pepperoni

MINNEAPOLIS - General Mills on Thursday recalled two brands of its frozen pizzas with pepperoni toppings because the meat may have been possibly contaminated with the bacteria E. coli.

The recall affects roughly 414,000 cases of pizza products in stores and all similar pizza products in consumers' freezers, the company said in a statement. General Mills has voluntarily recalled eight kinds of Totino's and three types of Jeno's frozen pizza, which have pepperoni or other meat products.

The company said it is working with federal and state food authorities, and launched an investigation immediately after learning about the potential contamination. Since July 1 of this year, Totino's and Jeno's have distributed more than 120 million pizzas nationwide. The pizzas were produced at a Wellston, Ohio, plant. The tainted food was uncovered by state and federal authorities investigating 21 cases of E. coli-related illness in 10 states. Roughly half of the individuals who became sick were hospitalized. The first case was reported on July 20. Nine of the 21 people reported having eaten Totino's or Jeno's pizza with pepperoni before becoming ill.

Halloween - Lakewood Style

2007-10-31T13:43:00.000-07:00

In college I occupied a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment with my friends Jonathan and Jason. As I've mentioned before, apartment #129 at Lakewood Village was a popular place in 1997 (wow, ten years ago) and we decided to throw a little Halloween party.

Jason was easily the most level-headed of the three of us, so when he came home with glow-in-the-dark crayons to draw monsters on the walls, we didn't object. It was really quite brilliant. You could draw on the walls, then easily clean them when the party ends. The glow-in-the-dark ghosts and goblins were a big hit and though it wasn't as easy as advertised, it did come off (the walls were about the only thing in that apartment that did survive).

After the guests left, I went to bed thinking about Linda Blair's head spinning around. In the middle of the night a large volume of IBC root beer and Yoohoo insisted on leaving my body.

When I opened my bedroom door, headed for the bathroom, I was greeted by the scariest glow-in-the-dark crayon monster of all. It seems in our less-than-thorough cleaning we missed one. Suddenly my trip to the restroom was no longer required, clean shorts on the other hand...

Things That Go Bump in the Night

2007-10-30T17:07:00.000-07:00

I like scary movies. I really like them. It's indefensible, I know. I don't have a single friend who shares this interest with me, so this is a hobby I enjoy pretty much alone. Which is ironic, considering this is one thing you don't want to do alone.

My interest in this suspect form of entertainment is clearly the result of having no parental supervision on my television viewing habits as a child. Actually, as long as I'm laying blame, my grandmother is probably most responsible. She was an avid fan of the mystery genre, watching Charlie Chan like he might be outlawed at any moment. She was also the first person I knew with a VCR. And when you're picking out a movie at Bud's Gas-N-Go, the mystery and horror selections tend to overlap. Neither of us were overly familiar with the rating system either. For all we knew, G, PG, PG-13 and R could have been the formula for cold fusion.

So it was that my introduction to this wonderfully entertaining art form came at the hands of my grandmother. And In the spirit of Halloween I want to share my top 5 favorite fright flicks.

5 - The Others - A twist on the classic haunted house

4 - Poltergeist - 25 years later, still one of the most intriguing horror movies ever made

3 - Night of the Living Dead - Zombies are, by far, my favorite monster

2 - The Evil Dead - A completely over-the-top combination of ghosts and zombies

1 -The Shining - You know something is a pop-culture phenomenon when the Simpsons do it

If You Build It, They Will Come

2007-10-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

After seven years of marriage Donna and I have gotten pretty good at picking our battles. As newlyweds, what surprised us most about our arguments was not the frequency, but rather the subject matter. Our biggest conflicts seemed to be over the smallest things.

For example, our biggest argument to date was over where to hang a shelf in our first apartment. This shelf, no matter how inspired its placement, was never going to do anything more than hold books. But we fought like Crips and Bloods about where to put it.

However, I am hereby putting my arguing days behind me and forfeiting all future disagreements to Donna.

Why?

Because in her infinite grace and ever-loving wisdom she has acquiesced to me building this in our backyard…

An Open Letter to My Younger Self

2007-10-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

With the amazing technological advances being made every day, I’m positive time travel will be possible very soon. To prepare for this inevitability, I have drafted a letter to Young Lance to share what I have learned along the way.

Dear Young Lance,

I know it must be strange getting a letter from your future self. Trust me, it’s a little strange writing it. As I write this, I (you) am 31 years old. I know, trippy isn’t it? There is no way for me to know how old you are when you get this, so I will try and cover all the bases.

First, let me give you a little primer on what your life will be like in the year 2007. It may not be what you expect, but it’s pretty awesome. Unfortunately, you do not become a professional basketball player, which might come as a shock if you are reading this between the ages of 10 and 14. After about 14 it starts to become pretty clear where your future as an athlete is headed. Also, I should mention that you do not become a juvenile delinquent either, which should come as a surprise to your (our) parents. Actually, you are a professional writer at a tech company in Austin. You probably already feel the tug of writing, so that may not come as a surprise. Keep at it, it serves us well. You work in a cubicle though, but it’s not as bad as it seems.

Now let’s get to the important stuff. If you haven’t noticed already, girls can be quite a distraction. Leave them alone until you get to college (SFA, by the way). It’s doubtful you’ll listen to me, even though nobody is better suited to give you advice, but the girls worth knowing don’t come along until after prom. Sorry dude.

Chances are you’ve already met Craig. Keep him close, he’s one of just a handful of truly steadfast friends you’ll come across. He’s an average basketball player, but it might do you well to teach him the difference between personal fouls and flagrant fouls. When he asks if you want to go to Big Bend for Spring Break, say yes. When he asks if you want to try rollerblading, say no.

Love on your grandparents because by the time you’re my age they’re all gone.

Don’t sweat the SATs. SFA has really reasonable standards and it’s perfectly suited for you. Don’t do the potluck roommate thing though. A whole year is a long time to bunk with Charlie the Ambiguously Gay Roommate. Don’t bother with those criminal justice classes either, all they accomplish is delaying graduation by a semester. When a girl named Donna asks you about some class you have together, play it cool because she’s the one.

Finally, you’ll never “feel” like a grown-up. You (we) haven’t outgrown comic books, cartoons or video games and I think that’s a good thing.

I hope this has been helpful.

Sincerely,
Old Lance

Yet Another Grassmick

2007-10-04T08:14:00.000-07:00

The Grassmick family welcomed its newest member yesterday. Baby Anderson joins Jonathan, Melissa, Emma, Johnny, Annie, Sleepy, Dopy, Niner...

Congratulations guys.

History in the Making

2007-10-02T09:19:00.000-07:00

Everyone fortunate enough to be watching the Dallas/St. Louis game on Sunday were witness to one of the plays of the decade. It's been a long time coming, but this makes suffering through the days of Anthony, Randall, Quincy, Ryan, Chad, Vinnie and Drew worth it.

Thoughts on the NFL after week two

2007-09-17T17:48:00.000-07:00

OK, am I the only one who is tired of seeing Reggie Bush on every commercial? I know, Peyton is everywhere also, but at least he has done something. I cannot remember a time when an athlete was hyped so much before he did anything (maybe Tiger, and obviously that panned out). Yes, he was part of a Cinderella story last year, but now the clock has struck midnight and Bush has turned back into the too flashy, undersized back that the Texans passed on in the draft (they are beginning to look pretty smart now that Mario Williams is coming of age).

We should all thank the Packers for taking down two of our NFC east rivals in the first two games. I still think the Packers are not that good, but if they can win games like these last two they will make the playoffs. By the way, wasn't that TD pass by Romo as he was going down to his knees Favre-esk? Tony, like Brett, looks like he really loves the game. I like watching guys like that.

Cleveland Browns Crap! Just when I thought we were destined for the #1 pick in next year's draft y'all gotta go and hang half a century on the Bengals. Fortunately, our pick ought to still be pretty good because even after scoring 51 they still almost lost the game. Brady Quinn better get pretty comfortable on the bench for a while.

The Bengals are well on their way to returning to their rightful place as the "Bungles."

Aren't you glad that you ended up with the second pick in your fantasy draft and someone else picked LT?

Lastly, I'll say my piece about spy-gate, or tape-gate, or whatever kind of gate people are calling it. First of all, when are we going to stop tacking "gate" onto the end of every scandal? In 100 years if the President sends men to steal documents from the Four Seasons are they going to refer to the scandal as Four Seasons-Gate? Or from then on will all scandals end in "seasons" rather that "gate?" Anyway, I think the league was too soft on the Patriots. Obviously the Pats were cheating to gain an edge. If they got nothing from it they would not have risked punishment by doing it. If I can recall correctly, the Patriots did not dominate in any of their Super Bowl victories or on the way to those Super Bowls. It seems like there were several occasions when it came down to a field goal. If they were spying then as well maybe they got just enough of an edge to win by a field goal. Sure they were a great team, but they just needed that extra edge to win as often as they did. It reminds me of the arguments some disillusioned Barry Bonds fans try to use to change the subject. Was he a Hall-of-Famer before he took steroids? Of course he was. Did the extra boost of power and longevity allow him to break Hank Aaron's record? I think we all know the answer to that. Steroids turned several of Bonds' would-be warning track fly outs into homers just like knowing the opposing team's defensive calls allowed the Pats to eek out a victory from time to time.

Business Time

2007-09-12T18:50:00.001-07:00

I heard a reference to this song on Sports Center the other night so I think it is pretty main stream. But in case you have not heard it, here it is. I'm sure you will not be able to get the tune out of your head, especially when it is business time.

With Friends Like This

2007-09-07T19:13:00.000-07:00

I spent most of my adolescence wasting time with my friend Craig. Our activities rarely extended beyond playing basketball, reading comic books or playing video games. But sometimes boredom got the best of us and we would try something different.

On one such occasion I decided to give Craig's new Rollerblades a try. Looking back, that he even owned a pair of Rollerblades seems ridiculous, but whatever. I walked out into his driveway and strapped them bad boys on. Once my feet were adorned with said footwear, Craig helped me take position in the middle of the street in front of his house. This particular street, Spanish Trail, seemed like an ideal place to stage my first-ever Rollerblade mission. Starting in front of Craig's house it was pretty straight and, best of all, downhill.

Standing on the crest of the hill, staring down Spanish Trail, I was wearing the following: a t-shirt, shorts and Rollerblades. I guess it was youthful hubris, but that this could turn out to be anything but my finest hour never crossed my mind.

With a healthy shove from Craig, I was off. I started out slow but before long I was picking up speed. I started drifting to the left and that's when I realized that Craig had left 'turning' out of his tutorial. He must have remembered too, because at about that time I heard him yelling behind me, "It's like skiing! Turn like you're skiing!"

By this time I was barrelling down the street, veering toward the drainage ditch and Craig's instructions seemed to come at just the right time. I know how to ski, so I shifted my weight, attempting a hockey-style stop. Bound by the laws of physics, the polycarbonate wheels were unable to maintain contact with the street and pretty quickly I was horizontal, flying through the air.

These are the things my brain processed:

1. "Craig has never been skiing, why would he know how to stop?"

2. "Wow, I'm going faster than I thought."

3. "I am about the hit the street, which from this new perspective, can best be described as an asphalt cheese grater."

4. "Mother $@#% that hurts!"

5. "Is that #$%&@ laughing at me?"

And I was right, he was laughing at me. I bled a lot that day and it was the last time I ever roller bladed. It was also the last time I took advice from Craig unconditionally. That was only one of at least seven different occasions I almost died as a result of something Craig and I were doing.

We live in different towns now.

Oh My God What's Your Name My Name's Lyle

2007-09-03T17:27:00.000-07:00

I couldn't resist making this lyric from Lyle Lovett's song "Redneck Woman" the title of this post, but it has little to do with what comes next.

If you are not familiar with Lyle's music, it difficult to categorize so I won't bore you with an explanation. But I came across this YouTube clip that I wanted to share here. The song is called "Flyin' Shoes" and is Lovett's cover of the song "To Live's to Fly", written by Townes Van Zandt, which explains the images in the video.

So, I encourage you to take some time away from whatever you are doing and give this a listen. If your day does not improve by a factor of 10, I will refund every dime. Enjoy.

Into the Wild

2007-08-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

A movie based on one of my favorite books, "Into the Wild," is coming out soon and the trailer looks fantastic. The story is based on the life of Chris McCandless, a drifter who starved to death in the Alaskan wilderness. McCandless came from an upper class family but rejected the trappings of his privileged lifestyle. Instead, he saw himself as an adventurer and was heavily influenced by the writings of Jack London.

What I find most intriguing about the book is the seemingly very honest portrayal of McCandless. He is not a sympathetic character, but John Krakauer, an outdoor journalist and seasoned mountain climber, is such an exceptional storyteller that it doesn't matter. Krakauer brings to bear much of his own experience in telling this story and in his hands it feels very authentic.

After graduating from college, McCandless cut off contact with his family and set off across the U.S. He tramped around the western states for a couple of years, living a transient lifestyle that was largely absent of any meaningful human contact. His ultimate goal: to disappear into the Alaskan wilderness and shed the civilized world entirely. When he finally got there he survived for almost six months, which is pretty amazing.

I read an article about the movie and in it the author compares McCandless to John Muir, the famous conservationist. In my opinion, making this comparison is irresponsible. Muir was at least an advocate for the great outdoors. McCandless, on the other hand, simply viewed nature as a place to escape to. He was, after all, homeless and living in an abandoned bus when he died of hunger and exposure. But because this bus happened to be located in the wilds of Alaska it takes on a completely romanticized perspective.

But it's still an interesting story and I hope the movie is faithful to the tone of Krakauer's narrative. I've included the trailer below.

Why I hate baseball

2007-08-22T19:51:00.000-07:00

Is this a typo? If not has such a thing ever happened before?

MLB
	Texas vs. Baltimore	30 3		F

This is a perfect example of why I hate baseball, especially regular season baseball. I was noticing that yesterday Baltimore beat Texas 6 to 3. How does that happen from one day to the next? Would the Cowboys ever lose to the Redskins 14 - 6 and then come back the very next day and beat the same team 182 - 21? It is all because in baseball the game relies far too heavily on one man - the pitcher. If he is on fire then it does not matter if the rest of the team sucks. On the other hand the rest of the team could score 29 runs, but (as apparently happened here) the pitcher could always give up 30! In my opinion baseball, as with dictatorships, puts too much power in the hands (or arm) of one guy.

This game must rank 4th for all time greatest moments in Ranger's history behind 3 things that Nolan Ryan did.

Impressionist Frank Caliendo does Madden, Bush, and more

2007-08-22T19:29:00.000-07:00

To see an extremely funny video go here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AoR2X8eZtns

Attack Deer Guy Lesson #1

2007-08-21T20:24:00.000-07:00

Let's say, hypothetically, that your wife asks you to go to the kitchen and get her bag that's sitting on the counter. This is a perfectly reasonable request, so you would probably head to the kitchen and get the bag.

Then let's say, hypothetically, that when you get to the kitchen, this is what you find:

I know what you're thinking, "but Lance, there are three bags here."

But you are wrong. No worries, so was I. You see, to the trained eye, there is only one bag in this picture. There is also one purse and one tote.

If your wife asks you to bring her bag, you had better bring the right one. Donna is not what I would call "high maintenance" but I'll go ahead and call this the exception.

This has been a service of Attack Deer.

Place Mat Ponderings

2007-08-19T19:45:00.000-07:00

I was looking at one of my kids' place mats today. It's one of those educational mats and in this case it's a map of the world. As I strained to read the small print underneath re-heated pizza crumbs I was again made aware of how much of the world's land mass lies north of the US. It made me think of all the Global Warming hysteria that we are being bombarded with these days. As we in America are being encouraged and even mandated to cut down on our "carbon footprint" I think people in Russia, Mongolia, and Canada are probably secretly wishing that we would keep driving our SUVs and using more that one square of toilet paper. Maybe if we continue these practices the earth's temperature would rise a couple of degrees and farmers in parts of these counties could add a month to their growing season. Other parts of these countries would have a growing season and a more hospitable climate. It makes me wonder what all this Global Warming stuff is really about and I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a political agenda behind it.

After pondering the place mat I decided to post an article that I read a couple of weeks back. Maybe it will spark some discussion, maybe not, but I thought it was clever and interesting. I figured it was Attack Deer worthy. I got the article from the OC Register, which is not a publication I read regularly. I was turned on to the article from an Intelligent Design blog of all places.

Mark Steyn: Warm-mongers and cheeseburger imperialists

MARK STEYN

Syndicated columnist

Something rather odd happened the other day. If you go to NASA's Web site and look at the "U.S. surface air temperature" rankings for the lower 48 states, you might notice that something has changed.

Then again, you might not. They're not issuing any press releases about it. But they have quietly revised their All-Time Hit Parade for U.S. temperatures. The "hottest year on record" is no longer 1998, but 1934. Another alleged swelterer, the year 2001, has now dropped out of the Top 10 altogether, and most of the rest of the 21st century – 2000, 2002, 2003, 2004 – plummeted even lower down the Hot 100. In fact, every supposedly hot year from the Nineties and this decade has had its temperature rating reduced. Four of America's Top 10 hottest years turn out to be from the 1930s, that notorious decade when we all drove around in huge SUVs with the air-conditioning on full-blast. If climate change is, as Al Gore says, the most important issue anyone's ever faced in the history of anything ever, then Franklin Roosevelt didn't have a word to say about it.

And yet we survived.

So why is 1998 no longer America's record-breaker? Because a very diligent fellow named Steve McIntyre of climateaudit.com labored long and hard to prove there was a bug in NASA's handling of the raw data. He then notified the scientists responsible and received an acknowledgment that the mistake was an "oversight" that would be corrected in the next "data refresh." The reply was almost as cool as the revised chart listings.

Who is this man who understands American climate data so much better than NASA? Well, he's not even American: He's Canadian. Just another immigrant doing the jobs Americans won't do, even when they're federal public servants with unlimited budgets? No. Mr. McIntyre lives in Toronto. But the data smelled wrong to him, he found the error, and NASA has now corrected its findings – albeit without the fanfare that accompanied the hottest-year-on-record hysteria of almost a decade ago. Sunlight may be the best disinfectant, but, when it comes to global warming, the experts prefer to stick the thermometer where the sun don't shine.

One is tempted to explain the error with old the computer expert's cry: That's not a bug, it's a feature. To maintain public hysteria, it's necessary for the warm-mongers to be able to demonstrate that something is happening now. Or as the Fort Worth Star-Telegram put it at the end of 1998:

"It's December, and you're still mowing the lawn. You can't put up the Christmas lights because you're afraid the sweat pouring off your face will short out the connections. Your honeysuckle vines are blooming. Mosquitoes are hovering at your back door.

"Hot enough for you?"

It's not the same if you replace "Hot enough for you?" with "Yes, it's time to relive sepia-hued memories from grandpa's Dust Bowl childhood."

Yet the fakery wouldn't be so effective if there weren't so many takers for it. Why is that?

In my book, still available at all good bookstores (you can find it propping up the wonky rear leg of the display table for Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth"), I try to answer this question by way of some celebrated remarks by the acclaimed British novelist Margaret Drabble, speaking just after the liberation of Iraq. Ms Drabble said:

"I detest Coca-Cola, I detest burgers, I detest sentimental and violent Hollywood movies that tell lies about history. I detest American imperialism, American infantilism, and American triumphalism about victories it didn't even win."

That's an interesting list of grievances. If you lived in Poland in the 1930s, you weren't worried about the Soviets' taste in soft drinks or sentimental Third Reich pop culture. If Washington were a conventional great power, the intellectual class would be arguing that the United States is a threat to France or India or Chad or some such. But because it's the world's first nonimperial superpower the world has had to concoct a thesis that America is a threat not merely to this or that nation state but to the entire planet, and not because of conventional great-power designs but because – even scarier – of its "consumption," its very way of life. Those Cokes and cheeseburgers detested by discriminating London novelists are devastating the planet in ways that straightforward genocidal conquerors like Hitler and Stalin could only have dreamed of. The construct of this fantasy is very revealing about how unthreatening America is.

And, when the cheeseburger imperialists are roused to real if somewhat fitful warmongering, that's no reason for the self-loathing to stop. The New Republic recently published a "Baghdad Diary" by one "Scott Thomas," who turned out to be Pvt. Scott Thomas Beauchamp. It featured three anecdotes of American soldiering: the deliberate killing of domestic dogs by the driver of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle; a child's skull worn by a U.S. serviceman as a fashion accessory; and the public abuse of a woman to her face, a half-melted face disfigured by an IED. In that last anecdote, the abusive soldier was the author himself, citing it as evidence of how the Iraq war has degraded and dehumanized everyone.

According to the Weekly Standard, army investigators say Pvt. Beauchamp has now signed a statement recanting his lurid anecdotes. And even the New Republic's editors concede the IED-victim mockery took place in Kuwait, before Pvt. Beauchamp ever got to Iraq.

They don't seem to realize this destroys the entire premise of the piece, which is meant to be about the dehumanization of soldiers in combat. Pvt. Beauchamp came pre-dehumanized. Indeed, he was writing Iraq atrocity fantasies on his blog back in Germany. It might be truer to say he was "dehumanized" by American media coverage. In this, he joins an ever lengthening list of peddlers of fake atrocities, such as Jesse MacBeth, an Army Ranger who claimed to have slaughtered hundreds of civilians in a mosque. He turned out to be neither an Army Ranger nor a mass murderer.

There are many honorable reasons to oppose the Iraq war, but believing that our troops are sick monsters is not one of them. The sickness is the willingness of so many citizens of the most benign hegemon in history to believe they must be.

As Pogo said, way back in the 1971 Earth Day edition of a then-famous comic strip, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." Even when we don't do anything: In the post-imperial age, powerful nations no longer have to invade and kill. Simply by driving a Chevy Suburban, we can make the oceans rise and wipe the distant Maldive Islands off the face of the Earth. This is a kind of malignant narcissism so ingrained it's now taught in our grade schools. Which may be why, even when the New Republic's diarist goes to Iraq and meets the real enemy, he still assumes it's us.

Let me smell your bread

2007-08-17T18:39:00.000-07:00

As I write, my kids are dancing around me like wild Indians...sorry, Native Americans. They request Garth in the evenings so they can dance. Actually they request Garf, but being the in-tune father that I am I understand that they mean they want to hear "Against the Grain" or "Callin' Baton Rouge." They also like the Newsboys' song "Shine." They hold up their hands like they are holding imaginary drum sticks and wait until the drum part starts, at which time they play their air drums with as much enthusiasm and vigor as John Bonham. He was usually on speed but they are just being kids.

As you can imagine, my life right now revolves around my kids. I'm not going to lie and say it's been easy, but it is alot of fun and at times it has definitely been funny. I cannot imagine life without them. So, for my first post here I am going to give you a little window into my life - the kinds of things I hear every day.

Soon after Emma started making sentences Melissa and I began writing down some of the funny (we think they are funny anyway) things that our kids say. They usually say something funny every day, but we record only the best of the best. So, without further ado here's what we have so far:

June of '06 - Melissa asked Emma "where does milk come from." With a look that said "I can't believe you don't know that at your age" she replied "from the refrigerator, Momma."

August '06 - Lance and Donna were visiting and we were eating dinner. Emma was potty training at the time so her little potty was in the dining room (possibly with some pee in it). Johnny walked by with a piece of bread in his hand that looked wet. Trying to catch him before he took a bite I said with a sense of urgency "Johnny, let me smell your bread!" In my life at the time it seemed so normal, but the Loopers about fell out of their seats laughing.

Emma - "friggin' Maggie" (Our dog's name was Maggie. She recently got eaten by coyotes.)

September '06 - We were all sitting at the dinner table talking about why God sent Jesus. Melissa and I started singing "Jesus Loves Me." I guess we were singing kind of loud because Emma said "kids, kids, hush!" I wonder where she has heard that before.

Sept. '06 - On the plane to Michigan Emma looked at me and said with a sassy voice "Dadda, I peed OK."

Oct. '06 - Jared (one of our friends here) was letting Emma ride the horsey (his knee). When he stopped and said "the horsey is tired" she promptly asked "well, then can I ride the cow."

Oct. '06 - Andrew (one of our other friends) was riding with us somewhere and Johnny was whining pretty bad. After several failed attempts to make him stop he asked Emma if she could make him stop. Emma, like she says it all the time, said "Donny, do you want a candy bar?" he stopped whining and said "yes." That was the last we heard of him the rest of the ride.

Well, I have several more, but I will make a new post with them sometime soon. As they get older Emma will probably not dominate the quotes so much. Johnny, Annie, and Anderson will be bigger players in years to come.

Back from the East Coast

2007-08-15T19:08:00.000-07:00

Donna and I just got back from vacation after a great bit of rest and relaxation. We hit New YorkCity first, where Donna's sister Salli lives with her husband Dan. Highlights from this leg include a five hour delay that put us in NYC at 4 a.m. This at first was a little annoying but we had the city pretty much to ourselves for a couple of hours.

We visited the American Museum of Natural History and laughed our way through Spamalot. We also ate our way through the rest of the weekend, spending roughly $134,834 on food.

After New York, we went to Baltimore where my college roommate Jason lives with his wife Shannon, their son Rich and an army of dogs that includes a Great Pyranese, a Basset Hound and a Boxer. We watched the back-ups for the Ravens beat the snot out of the back-ups for the Eagles in a pre-season football game and visited the National Aquarium. We also learned the spiritual divinity of Johns Hopkins Lacrosse.

Here are a few of the 87 pictures we took:

"I'm a crook, honest."

2007-08-08T19:34:00.000-07:00

Donna and I are leaving Friday for a much needed vacation. We're headed to the East Coast to visit her sister in NYC and my friend Jason in Baltimore. I've been to New York City one other time (with Jason, actually) and met the world's dumbest con artist.

There were vendors on every corner selling knock-offs of all things imaginable. Watches were popular and TAG Heuer imitations were particularly hot items.

One night we were walking down the street and this guy walked up to us to ask if we wanted a nice watch real cheap. Unwilling to take no for an answer, he proceeded to show us said watch. It could be mine, my new friend told me, for the low price of $300. That was roughly one-fifth retail according to him. Unfortunatley for him, I had seen about a million fake watches that day and could tell this was a fugazi.

Being the persistent swindler he was, this guy assures me it's the real deal. And he can prove it. He then produces a receipt from his jacket pocket that, he says, proves the watch's value. But, and this is where it gets good, he didn't ACTUALLY pay for it himself. You see, he says, he stole some dude's credit card and bought the watch with it. But he don't need a watch, so he's graciously willing to pass the savings on to me.

So, this guy wanted me to take his word on the authenticity of the watch by convincing me that he was a thief.

The Playmaker Headed to the Hall of Fame

2007-08-05T05:42:00.000-07:00

In today's professional sports landscape where steroids, federal indictments and corruption are standard operating procedure, Michael Irvin would be considered a model citizen. I love the Cowboys and have been a pretty steadfast Irvin apologist, but I can't help but think that he was a pioneer for the bad behavior of today's overpaid and overexposed athletes.

But this weekend is a time for remembering what happened on the field. So here is a little reminder of how amazing it was:

How Superman Should Have Ended

2007-08-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

This clip perpetuates the age-old question: Who's better, Superman or Batman?

What, This Old Thing?

2007-07-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

The other day I was looking for batteries and found the Nintendo Game Boy I got for Christmas...oh...about 17 years ago. Donna and I have been playing it pretty much non-stop all week. It's been a good distraction during the wettest summer on record.

I am happy to report that my Tetris skills are still sharp after all these years. Donna is still working on her game, but we are confident that through hours of practice, she'll get to where she needs to be.

Harry Potter - Maybe You've Heard of It?

2007-07-24T18:47:00.000-07:00

I work in an office full of people eagerly devouring their freshly printed copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. These are perfectly reasonable adults, for the most part, and they've gone completley bonkers. I can't remember the last time something had so many people so excited.

At the same time I am witnessing Potter-mania rage through the adult ranks, I keep seeing articles about the spiritual merits of the series and the implications on children. What's really interesting, and I think very telling, is that some of these articles slam the Potter series for being overtly satanic and dangerous while others actually compare J.K. Rowling to C.S. Lewis.

I have not read any of the books or seen any of the movies, so I can't really comment on the validity of relating the stories to Christianity. But I thought you guys might have some insight.

You all have kids or work with kids and I wanted to know if you've read the books and/or would you let your own kids read them?

Use the comments to respond.

Who Can Throw Away a Career in One Easy Step?

2007-07-21T04:36:00.000-07:00

One sure fire way to lose friends, particularly in the South, is to be mean to a dog. Here are just a few examples of the reverence we have for our four-legged friends:

*************************

Southern dogs in movies:

- Old Yeller

- Skip

- Hubert

Southern dogs in music:

- Big Dog

Southern dogs in literature:

- Old Dan and Little Ann

- Marley

- Hank

Vick is being vilified more than had he done something to an actual person. Even if he's cleared, this will leave more of a stigma than most of the nefarious activities of his contemporaries. People will forgive drug abuse. Steroids? No problem. Even worse, when a superstar beats up the wife it's usually forgotten with a public apology and a little counseling.

But drowning and electrocuting dogs? It's hard to imagine what goes on inside the diseased mind of someone who justifies this. And Vick is not alone. Unfortunately, the next time a public figure does this it will be less shocking. And before long it will barely get our attention. Gun charges and stints in rehab barely make headlines anymore, and I can't even estimate the number of times over the past five years when the words "NFL" and "strip club" have been spoken in the same sentence.

Somewhere Troy Aikman is helping an old lady to cross the street on his way to the grand opening of the Troy Aikman Super Fantastic Center for Disadvantaged Puppies.

The Exception to the 5-Second Rule

2007-07-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

My friend Jeremy is the type of guy who can accomplish anything he wants by simply willing himself to do it. He’s run a marathon, written some cool songs and became a pretty good photographer, all basically because he felt like it.

One semester he decided he wanted to score a 4.0 GPA. Jeremy’s a smart guy, but like most liberal arts majors at SFA, not what you would call a stand-out student. But for some reason he decided to ace every class, a couple of which we were taking together. He disappeared that semester and resurfaced with a perfect 4.0.

Another time we were walking in the woods (something we spent a lot of time doing) and we came across a tree that was about 30ft. tall, straight up and down, no limbs or anything. I made a bet with him that he couldn’t climb it. About 45 seconds later he was standing on top of it. Jeremy made driving his car (or Wyatt’s delivery trucks) look like rocket science, but could take some of the most absurdly challenging tasks and just make them happen. That’s just the kind of guy he is.

But his most impressive feat took place in my living room at Lakewood Village, apartment #129. Jeremy lived way outside of town so he’d spend a lot of time at 129 between classes and in the evenings to avoid making the trip back and forth between Nacogdoches and whatever that Podunk town was called. Anyway, he was over one night and we were hanging out like we always did.

Because I lived with chick-magnet Jonathan, our kitchen was always full of goodies. Homemade cookies and other treats had a way of finding their way to our apartment. On this particular night, we were finishing off a plate of Rice Crispy treats. When Jerms showed up there was only one left. Sometimes a guy gets that look in his eyes when he’s so focused on something everything else kind of fades away. That’s how Jeremy was looking at this Rice Crispy treat. This Rice Crispy treat was about to make his day.

Unfortunately, before he could take a seat on one of our four couches, he fumbled his goody and it landed on the floor. Now, let me remind you that this was the carpet of an apartment that three guys shared, none of whom were passionate about cleanliness. The combination of our heavily trafficked carpet and the stickiness of the Rice Crispy treat was a recipe for disaster. This didn’t bother Jeremy. He picked it up for a closer look and we all knew what was on his mind.

Had it been my Rice Crispy treat that fell on the floor, I would have probably donated it to science. Not Jeremy, his cup was half-full. For the next 10 minutes or so, Jerms painstakingly picked every piece of floor matter off the Rice Crispy treat; carpet fibers, crumbs from other dropped foodstuffs and, of course, enough pubic hair to knit a sweater. When the Rice Crispy treat was picked bald, Jeremy enjoyed it without a trace of dimmed enthusiasm.

We all learned a little something about desire that night.

Word Association

2007-07-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

It’s weird that when I hear a Don Williams song, any Don Williams song, I think not about my wife, but my friend Jonathan. Don Williams, for those of you unfortunate enough to not know who I’m talking about, sings some of the best love songs ever recorded. They’re sappy and sincere, which makes it a little weird that when one of these songs plays my mind wanders to Jonathan.

But let me tell you why.

Jonathan and I were college roommates for two almost-consecutive years. We shared apartment 129 at Lakewood Village with our other friend, Jason. Now, Jonathan was not only good looking, but just about the nicest guy I knew, so he tended to draw a predominately female crowd. On any given night there were usually 2-3 co-eds loitering around # 129, just hanging around.

Despite the attention, or maybe because of it, Jonathan didn’t date much and coasted through most of his school days pretty much unattached. But one semester he decided to develop a crush on one of our neighbors. I think they might have gone out once or twice, but nothing much happened. As guys are prone to do, the more disinterested the neighbor was in Jonathan, the more interested he became in her.

Now, it’s important to know that said neighbor was really only marginally attractive, slightly above average. I would say that among the throngs of girls who found their way in and out of Jonathan’s orbit, she probably ranked somewhere in the middle of the pack in the looks department.

The neighbor's name happens to be the same as one of Don’s best songs. So, naturally, Jonathan would play the song on repeat for hours at a time, over and over. It’s hard to get tired of Don, but Jonathan was pushing the envelope. This lasted a few days until one sunny afternoon he snapped out of it, ready to move on, forget about the unattainable neighbor and, at last, put in another CD. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

Then someone knocked on the door.

I opened it up and standing before me was one of the most confounding images I’ve ever served witness to. Our so-so looking neighbor was standing in our doorway, only now she was an absolute vision. I don’t know if it was how the sunlight was silhouetting her figure or the way her blue dress made her eyes dance, but in that instant Jason and I realized what our roommate had seen in her. We sat for a few seconds with our mouths open before she asked to use our vacuum cleaner or something. By the time she left, Jonathan was in the throws of a full-fledged relapse and Jason and I were following right behind him.

We reset the CD player. Disc 1, track 2, repeat.

Only Somebody From Texas

2007-07-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago I was on a flight from Atlanta to Dallas and struck up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me. He was young, 19, and on his way home from Iraq. He was an air traffic controller in the Air Force and was heading home to California to get married. We talked for a while about the war and hometowns and what he had missed while he was gone.

He had a cast on his wrist and, hoping for a good story, I asked about it. He seemed a little hesitant to tell me about how it happened, which to me suggested maybe it was the result of some traumatic war-related activity. I pushed, and finally he told me he had broken his wrist playing volleyball in the Iraqi desert.

After a little more conversation, he made a comment about the book I was reading. It was a collection of essays written by important Texans. He said he could tell I was from Texas because “only somebody from Texas would read about other Texans.”

I told him only somebody from California would go all the way to Iraq and break their wrist playing beach volleyball.