Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

Letter from the Editor

2008-02-07T00:36:00.001-06:00

Dear Mr. President,

I hear you're getting ready to take over things around here. Congratulations on the new job – I think. I hope you're ready to go to work on Day 1 without any on-the-job training because things haven't exactly been going well lately. And we haven't been too happy with the leadership or the direction they took us in.

You're looking a lot older than you once did. You've been around this business for a long time now. Some people doubt your ability to get the job done. They say we're simply holding on to the past by supporting you. They say we needed new blood, maybe even some younger blood. But there's something about you – you've made us excited. You've given us hope.

But your predecessors certainly did you no favors.

Performance ratings for our leaders have hit all-time lows the past few years, so it's hard to imagine you making things any worse. But you're not here just to maintain the status quo. A lot of people have been clamoring for change around here. They want a new direction. That's why you're here. To make some sense of the mess you've been left with.

We used to have it pretty good. But it's been a long eight years here. The late '90s seem so long ago. And the people of this great nation deserve better. We all know George W. used to run things around here, but we're not looking to the past – it's all about the future. Of course, we want things to get better in the here and now, too. But we all know the most important thing you can do is help raise the next generation that will keep this nation great for years to come.

So, good luck President Nolan Ryan. You'll certainly need it. The fans of the Texas Ranger nation salute you.

Super Week

2008-02-05T09:14:00.000-06:00

Three days. Two Supers. Just 36 hours after basking in the glow of a Patriots' defeat on Super Sunday, I'm gearing up for another favorite pastime – election season in all it's glory. Happy Super Tuesday!

18-1

2008-02-03T11:58:00.000-06:00

Super Bowl XLII was supposed to be a sacrificial ceremony. New York was the lamb, and New England was the man with the knife needing to spill just one last team's blood before it's coronation as the greatest team of all time. And when Tom Brady tossed an easy touchdown to Randy Moss with 2:42 left in the fourth quarter, the Patriots had Giants' head pressed down and the knife raised. But this sacrificial lamb had other ideas. And with 35 seconds left, Eli Manning and Plaxico Burress picked the Giants up off the altar, and it was the Patriots' blood this was spilled before the football gods.

And what a sacrifice it was.

People have been trying to quantify the Patriots' place in history for months. Were they the best team the NFL has ever seen? Where does Tom Brady rank among the league's best quarterbacks? Is Bill Belichick (Spygate aside) the greatest coach of all time? And just when the media had sized all three for their crowns, the Giants reminded us how silly it is to have all that talk was before the final game has been played.

It turns out the greatest team of all time isn't even the best team this season.

The greatest quarterback of all time was bested by a quarterback previously known more for his shortcomings and his older brother.

And the best coach of all time didn't even stay on the field for the last play as the clock expired to congratulate a coach who likely had to convince his team's management why he should have kept his job after a disappointing season last year.

(Quick aside: What happened to the gray hoodie? Did the ratty, old garment finally fall apart in the wash? Maybe this fancy, red short-sleeved hoodie simply was his dress hoodie only pulled out of the closet for coronation ceremonies. Now, we might never see him without the gray rag ever again.)

I've always heard it said that people only remember the winners of the Super Bowl, not the losers. I don't think that will be the case this year. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if people have more trouble remembering what team was responsible for putting the only blemish on the '07 Patriots' record. And that gives this Cowboys fan some satisfaction. Because I don't really want to have to dwell on the winners of this game – this is the same team who knocked the Cowboys out of the playoffs three weeks ago. But I don't think I'll forget it was the day the whole world came to crown the Patriots dynasty, but the crown everyone spent the past five months sizing for them for still ended up being a little too big after all.

Rage against the DPS

2007-12-22T18:24:00.000-06:00

We interrupt your happy holidays for this (jaded?) rant.

My driver's license expires in two weeks. I had hopes of renewing it yesterday before I go out of town later next week. So I set out for the Department of Public Safety office a little after 2 p.m. But I did not find a waiting line, government forms and a new mugshot for the ID waiting for me. No, instead I found myself staring at my dim reflection outside of a locked glass door reading a sign that said:

"We will close at 12 p.m. Friday because of the Christmas holiday."

On Dec. 24, I would have no problem with being in this situation. Even Dec. 23 wouldn't be absurd. But I would like to point out the ridiculousness of finding myself in this situation on Dec. 21 -- four days before Christmas. What did that half day give them? An extra 5 hours to drive to their holiday vacation locations? They already had two full weekend days to get wherever they were going before Christmas Eve came around. To top it off, the office will remain closed Dec. 26. So they already were looking at a five day holiday -- Saturday through Wednesday -- before they decided they needed an extra five hours off.

Perhaps it's just me being callous because I've worked on just about every holiday in the past 16 months, but it all just seems a little excessive. I'm all for time off around the holidays. And usually it's not a problem. If one business closes shop a little early, there's some other business that probably kept its doors open. But this is a government operation. It's not like I can take my money and my driver's license to another business. Surely my state sales tax isn't going toward these peoples' vacation pay so they can take a superfluous half-day the week before Christmas. But I guess it does, and I guess I don't have much recourse. So I rant. On here. To you.

And my license continues to speed toward uselessness. Here's hoping the DPS can find a few hours to come in Thursday or Friday morning to work before they begin their New Year's holiday, which, no doubt, will extend from noon Dec. 28 through Jan. 2.

I now return you to your happy holidays.

The unPatriot

2007-09-14T03:08:00.000-05:00

Since early in the decade, I often have said I have an irrational hatred for Bill Belichick, head coach of the NFL's New England Patriots. Since the turn of the millenium, we have seen the Patriots crank out win after win and three Super Bowl titles. Yet every time I'd see this man, I couldn't help but bristle.

My hatred never really made sense. By all accounts, he was an excellent coach. He was successful. He was low-key. And he clearly cared more about coaching football than what the public thought about his physical appearance, as confirmed by his Sunday gameday apparel — what can only be described as a homeless man's poncho (pictured above). That should have inspired me to respect him, or at least respect what he had accomplished. But all his success? Just made me tired of seeing him. His low-key nature? Just made him seem arrogant. And the homeless man's poncho? Just made him seem like, well, a homeless man. And the one thing I know about homeless men — sometimes they get desperate. As The Office's Creed Bratton once said, "The only difference between me and a homeless man is this job. I will do whatever it takes to survive — just like I did when I was a homeless man." Well if that's what defines a homeless man, then it appears Bill Belichick has more in common with a homeless man than just the poncho.

Belichick fined $500,000 by NFL for taping Jets' signals

So how long has this been going on? I just don't see any reason to believe that last Sunday was the first time Belichick has resorted to video taping the opposing teams signals. Maybe it was earlier this season. Or maybe it was 2005 -- the last year the Patriots won the Super Bowl. Or maybe it was in 2001, just before they went on to win their first Super Bowl. I don't know. I don't really care. The man cheated. Oh, he apologized. My guess, though, is that he came across as tight-lipped and unrepentant-sounding as ever. But I still feel a little better — knowing my hatred wasn't so irrational at all.

God bless the Russians

2007-09-13T00:40:00.001-05:00

Russian Governor Sponsors Conception Day

MOSCOW (AP) — A Russian region best known as the birthplace of Vladimir Lenin has found a novel way to fight the nation's birthrate crisis: It has declared Sept. 12 the Day of Conception and for the third year running is giving couples time off from work to procreate.

The hope is for a brood of babies exactly nine months later on Russia's national day. Couples who "give birth to a patriot" during the June 12 festivities win money, cars, refrigerators and other prizes.

Ulyanovsk, a region on the Volga River about 550 miles east of Moscow, has held similar contests since 2005. Since then, the number of competitors, and the number of babies born to them, has been on the rise.

Alexei Bezrukov and his wife, Yulia, won a 250,000 ruble prize — equivalent to $10,000 — in June after she gave birth to a baby boy, Andrei. Bezrukov said patriotism wasn't their motive for having a child, their third, although the money was welcome.

"It was a patriotic atmosphere, you know when everyone around is celebrating, but I wasn't thinking of anything but my son," he said. "The whole thing is great, it's great to get 250,000 rubles when you have a new baby to take care of."

Russia, with one-seventh of the Earth's land surface, has just 141.4 million citizens, making it one of the most sparsely settled countries in the world. With a low birthrate and very high death rate, the population has been shrinking since the early 1990s.

It is now falling by almost half a percent each year. Demographic experts expect the decline to accelerate, estimating that Russia's population could fall below 100 million by 2050.

In his state of the nation address last year, President Vladimir Putin called the demographic crisis the most acute problem facing Russia and announced a broad effort to boost Russia's birthrate, including cash incentives to families to have more than one child.

Ulyanovsk Governor Sergei Morozov has added an element of fun to the national campaign.

When he held the first competition in 2005, 311 women signed up to take part — and qualify for a half-day off from work. In June 2006, 46 more babies were born in Ulyanovsk's 25 hospitals than in June of the previous year, including 28 born on June 12, officials in the governor's office said.

More than 500 women signed up for the second contest on Sept. 12, 2006. Exactly nine months later, 78 babies, triple the region's daily average, were born. They were welcomed into the world as Russia's national anthem was played, the officials said.

Since the campaign began, the birthrate in the region has risen steadily and is up 4.5 percent so far this year over the same period in 2006, according to the regional administration's Web site.

Everyone who has a baby in an Ulyanovsk hospital on Russia Day gets some kind of prize. But the grand prize winners are couples judged to be the fittest parents by a committee that deliberates for two weeks over the selection.

The 2007 grand prize went to Irina and Andrei Kartuzov, who received a UAZ-Patriot, an SUV made in Ulyanovsk. They told reporters they were planning to have another child anyway when they heard about the contest.

Irina Kartuzova had to have a Caesarian section to deliver the baby and it was scheduled for June 12.

The selection committee chose the Kartuzovs from among the 78 couples because of their "respectability" and "commendable parenting" of their two older children, a spokesman for the governor said.

Other contestants won video cameras, TVs, refrigerators and washing machines.

Under the federal program, women who give birth to a second or subsequent child are to receive certificates worth $10,000, which can be used to pay for education or to improve the family's living conditions.

Monthly support payments were raised this year to $60 from $28.

The Perfect Storm ...

2007-08-16T02:24:00.000-05:00

... And I'm not even referring to Tropical Storm Erin.

Tonight was one of those nights at work where just the right number of things all happened at once and converged to create the perfect disaster of an evening. And I was just lucky enough to be on A1 duty when it happened. You see, on any given front page, you often have one big package of stories that all go together. Some of these go on the front, and the rest go on the jump page. Tonight, there were three of those packages — all on the front page. Just having one of those would have required quite a bit of work. Three was just unheard of (for me at least). I just lived through it all and don't particularly want to relive it, so I won't bore you with the details. Just know that no one died and we made deadline. Some nights, that's all you can hope for.

And then there was the real storm. This one isn't so perfect, but it is bearing down on the Coastal Bend. Tropical Storm Erin is supposed to come ashore between 9 a.m. and noon today, likely just north of Corpus. By tropical storm standards, it's a fairly week storm — winds just above 40 mph. Here on the ever-windy coast, that isn't so outrageous. What's going to get us though is the inches and inches of rain it's going to drop on an already saturated coast. Flooding is going to happen again tomorrow. It's just a question of where and if I'll drive by another submerged vehicle on the way to work. Overhead street signs were particularly helpful as I came home from work last night. People shouldn't try driving through standing water, so the signs offered this spot-on advice:

Turn around
Don't drown

Thanks road signs. I'll keep that in mind.

I'll be storm watching tomorrow morning and early afternoon before I have to head in to work. Perhaps I'll have some of my own pictures. Stay tuned ...

Waterworld

2007-08-15T01:51:00.000-05:00

With no school or work to take summerlong breaks from these days, I guess blogging got put on the chopping block. But summertime is waning, so I should get back to it.

As this post's subject suggests, I'm living in a town with water on the brain. Water from the sky and water from the ground. These developments come on the heels of the rainiest July in the history of Corpus. So rainy, in fact, that I drove right by a truck stuck in an intersection submerged in water up to its windows. That's the kind of thing you always hear about or see pictures of but rarely see yourself. Now I can check that one off. As a result of the rain, the ground saturated and the rivers flooded. With all that water filling our water system and no one needing to use it for jobs like watering or irrigating, more water was in the system than our purification system could handle. That was all several weeks ago.

The city has since switched to a straight chlorine solution to purify the city's water. As a result, showering this week has been more like diving into the YMCA pool. Perhaps the actual content of the water isn't like that bad, but the smell is. The taste isn't too tasty either. So people have been angry about that.

After all that, the news today that the city water might have turned up bacteria in a test last week and are recommending we boil our water for the time being. So people are freaking out again, bottles of water flying off the shelves at all the area stores. Never mind that subsequent tests of the water came back clean. I'm guessing that won't be enough to convince people to drink straight from their taps tomorrow.

To top it off, the National Weather Service tonight decided the disturbance out in the Gulf is going to turn in to something and has issued a tropical storm watch for South Texas. This means that tropical storm conditions are possible within the next 36 hours.

And there goes any water that was left on the store shelves.

A tropical storm is classified as such when the winds are between 39 and 73 mph. All reports are that rain is going to be more of an issue with this storm, so the winds will probably be on the low side. And that's a pretty big circle where the storm might end up. Might not even have anything to be concerned about at all.

Not that I'm concerned. I've kind of been looking forward to this ever since moving down here. Maybe "looking forward to" isn't quite right -- more like intrigued. I don't particularly want to experience a major hurricane, but I do have a thing for bad storms (NOTE: not destructive storms). If there's lots of wind, lightning and thunder, then I want a front-row seat. Maybe I'll get one come Thursday. Maybe I won't. But there's still two and a half more months left in storm season. And I'll have a few gallons of water in the pantry just in case.

Midnight magic

2007-07-20T18:12:00.000-05:00

My Mac is back, and it's charged as well as ever. After almost a week of relying on the Wii for all my Internet needs, it feels good to type something more than a few sentences long in less than a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, the new power adapter came just in time for me to begin my self-imposed media lockdown. Why a self-imposed media lockdown? To avoid seeing some giant spoiler plastered across the Internet or television about the final Harry Potter book. Then ending of Book 5 was spoiled for my by a 10-year-old the summer I worked ACU Camps, and I won't have that happening to me for the last book.

The book will be released in fewer than six hours now and my festivities have already begun. The day began with an hour-long wait at Barnes and Noble at 9 a.m. to get a ticket, thus reserving my place in line for later this evening. I've passed the time this afternoon by playing most of all the Potter movies in the background of whatever I've been doing around the apartment. I'll round out my day with another viewing of HP5 in the theatre before making my way to Barnes and Noble again, this time to retrieve the book. Some of you might this would put the average person on Potter overload, but I don't think that's really possible for me -- not with all the anticipation for this final book.

It's time to leave now, but I just wanted to write now, since I know I won't again until I have finished the final tome. I anticipate a Sunday afternoon finish before I have to go back in to work. Until then, it's time to begin my media lockdown. Books have just been released in England, so spoilers could pop up any moment.

Power failure

2007-07-15T14:47:00.000-05:00

Nintendo's Wii is not the ideal machine to blog from. Yet, that is what I have been reduced to. All because my Macbook Pro's power adapter has failed me yesterday. With no charge left on the laptop, I'm left to surf the Web and blog from my Wii's trial version Internet browser. No physical keyboard. Just a motion-sensing Wiimote and a virtual, on-screen keyboard. Needless to say, I'm setting no WPM record typing on here.

So my computer and I are at the mercy of the Apple store and FedEx. Maybe they'll come through for us tomorrow. Maybe not until Thursday. I'll bring you more whenever that is. But if this doesn't prove my blogging dedication more so than my posting frequency, I don't know what will.

J.G. Wentworth can help ...

2007-07-11T01:56:00.001-05:00

Two things gleaned about the late-night TV-watching crowd after analyzing the advertisements.

• Judging by the sheer number of ads and companies providing this service, just about every one in this TV demographic needs cash now and is seeking immediate liquidity from their annuity or structured settlement. Several businesses advertise this service, but I'm particularly tired of that one old guy always appearing to hawk his company's version of this service. You know the one I'm talking about. Lesson here: Don't get locked into a longterm annuity or structure a settlement so that you find yourself needing cash now.

• Anyone else who doesn't need cash now has been involved in a fall, an auto accident or any kind of accident and needs a lawyer now. Lawyer advertisements are great because any town you go to, there are different lawyers, but the commercials really are all the same. And every community has that one lawyer or two that everyone claims to hate because of their commercials, but they must be well off enough to inundate the airwaves with their low-quality advertisements.

In the first 4 days of July, it rained more than 13 inches here. That made it the wettest July since 1976. Not just the wettest first week of July, but for the entire month ... in the first four days. The ramifications of this downpour and the inevitable flooding and standing puddles -- mosquitos. Lots of mosquitos. And very large ones, at that. For the oddsmakers out there, this week's betting line: Odds that I will get West Nile virus in the next month -- 53:1.

You stay classy, Tyler, Texas

2007-07-10T10:43:00.000-05:00

[Pulls out rag and lemon-fresh Pledge to dust away the cobwebs]

Many apologies for the absence. I've put you all through much worse though, but I'll do my best to get back on the blogging wagon.

I think I've blogged before about the strange things that always seem to happen in my hometown -- things that typically land it on some national newscast from time to time. This time, it will be featured on a reality TV show. I'll just let this YouTube clip of a Good Morning America story set the stage:

Lauren Jones finished up her monthlong stint on Tyler's CBS affiliate a few days ago. I don't know what kind of portrayal Tyler will get or even how much it will be portrayed at all when the show begins airing Aug. 21. But it doesn't take much imagination to guess what kind of image will be portrayed of any small city in the heart of East Texas. When the show boasts no cast other than the good people of Tyler, you know we're all in for a treat. Will it be trashy? Coming from FOX, there isn't any doubt. Will it make a mockery of broadcast journalism? Maybe, but having seen some of the newscasts of certain stations in Tyler, they could do no worse. Oh, and did I mention that I absolutely cannot wait.

I'm sure coming to Tyler was a bit of a shock for Miss Jones. Not only I'm sure did she experience culture shock, but apparently there probably with a bit of media shock as well. She was ripped from the covers of such magazines as, well, the types of magazines you get on when you're a "WWE diva" and swimsuit model, and thrust onto the likes of Tyler Today. I didn't even know such a magazine existed by that name. I don't know how she feels about this; maybe she's proud. She is, in all likelihood, the first swimsuit model ever to grace its cover. And I guess she has that right to be proud; this is, after all, Tyler's oldest city magazine from all the way back in the dark ages of 1989.

Suffice to say, Aug. 21 cannot come fast enough. You can bet you'll read more about this on here in the coming weeks.

And as Lauren Jones' forerunner as anchorwoman, Ms. Veronica Corningstone, would say, "Thanks for stopping by."

If Bill Cosby said it, it must be good

2007-06-18T01:55:00.000-05:00

Reason number 103 it's good to be an adult: If you want cinnamon toast at 1 a.m., you can have cinnamon toast at 1 a.m. If you don't have the ingredients to to make cinnamon toast at 1 a.m., you can go to the grocery store at 1 a.m. and make cinnamon toast at 1:15 a.m.

Same goes for chocolate cake. When you live alone and you want a chocolate cake, there's no reason not to make one. So you make it, and it's good. It's only after you make it and have enjoyed a piece or two that you realize that you now have an entire chocolate cake on your hands. Now, there's nothing inherently wrong with this. Some might even suggest there's something very right about it. And as the name of this blog would suggest, chocolate cake goes fine with any meal. But when you live alone and have a whole chocolate cake on your hands, you could have that cake for every meal and still be eating it for two weeks. You just suck it up and shovel it down and realize there are worse things to have on your hands.

Turn a flakier shade of pale

2007-06-13T14:34:00.001-05:00

I did my best to stave off the inevitable skin peel -- and not the chemical kind that you pay lots of money for at the spa. The sunburn simply was too much for the back of my neck and shoulders. I might have done enough to avoid significant peeling on my face and arms. That's crucial because I can cover up my peeling shoulders well enough. Should be back to normal in another day or two.

In other news, it's time to start getting excited about Harry Potter again. We're a month out from the release of the fifth film, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. And later in July, we've got the release of the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. So, now is the time to bust out the first four DVDs for a pre-movie screening. Or crack open Book 6, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, to catch you up on where the series has left off. Or fire up your iPod to listen to the downloaded book on CD that you may or may not have illegally. Now's the time.

And if you, for some reason, need a little help becoming excited, here's a little reminder:

Turn a redder shade of pale

2007-06-11T02:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, apparently I joined the entire city of Corpus Christi on a 2.5-mile stretch of beach on North Padre Island. That was the site of the 30th annual C-Sculptures event Saturday. A combination of beach, sand sculpting, live music and lots of people. When you're still relatively new in a town and experiencing events for the first time, it's hard to know much about the annual events and if they're worth attending. My general rule is that any event where you can be barefoot and half-dressed and not be in the minority is bound to be a fine time indeed. So I headed out just after lunch Saturday. On any normal day, I could leave my apartment and be standing in the ocean in less than 20 minutes. On this day, I was still in my car an hour and 20 minutes later. It's kind of hard to get to the beach when all the access roads are closed and the police are wandering around the roads looking confused. It was easy to blame them at the time, and I did. But I had no idea.

I mentioned earlier that I joined the entire city of Corpus Christi at the beach. And I wasn't exaggerating that much. If I told you there were 30,000 people on the couple of miles of beach yesterday, you'd probably envision a pretty crowded time. Well, 30,000 was only the number of people who camped out on the beach the night before for the event. Police estimated there were 100,000 people on the beach at any given time throughout the day. It became so crowded that police shut off beach access roads and turned people away. They estimated that as many as 250,000 people tried to attend this one day event. Considering the city has roughly 280,000 people, that's a pretty high attendance rate. Upon discovering that, police were absolved from any responsibility in the traffic gridlock.

And traffic gridlock is exactly what we experienced. That's what happens when you try to filter that many cars through a few access roads when everyone is trying to leave. So instead of getting caught up in that, I hung out on the beach while the crowds thinned. Not a bad alternative to idling in a row of cars. Except when you don't prepare your skin for that sort of exposure. I'm usually religious about sunscreen application. But I didn't make provisions to reapply. And so now, in the days after, I still get to lay around barefoot and half dressed, but that's mainly because my shoulders don't like the feel of anything other than aloe and lotion for the time being.

'With the first pick of the 2007 First-Year Players Draft ...'

2007-06-09T02:34:00.000-05:00

It's 2 a.m. Perfect time for a late-night snack of bacon and pineapple-orange-banana juice. It's also the perfect time to get back to blogging.

I'm going to label myself as a real baseball nerd here, but I've spent the past couple days keeping up with the MLB draft both on TV and online. It's the first year the draft has ever been aired on TV, mainly because there usually just isn't enough interest. It's difficult for even baseball fans to get excited. First off, the draft is 50 rounds long. With 30 teams picking, that's up to 1,500 names called in a two day period. Compare this to the NFL when just over 200 will go, or basketball when around 60 will be drafted. And in the other sports, even the casual fan will know about the top players being drafted. You'd be hard pressed to find and NBA fan this year who doesn't know the names Greg Oden or Kevin Durant. Most NFL fans knew JaMarcus Russell hailed from LSU. But before yesterday, I would wager a guess than 95 percent of baseball fans didn't know who David Price is, much less that he played for Vanderbilt. Now, he's only the first overall player selected in this year's baseball draft by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. I'd bet that even after yesterday, 70 percent of baseball fans still don't know who he is. And why should they right now? Even the best prospects out of this draft won't sniff the major leagues for a couple of years. Realistically, teams are looking at 3 to 5 years of development before these prospects are ready to help out the major league team. It's just hard to get excited about the 2011 season yet. Unless, of course, you're a Ranger fan, when that's probably all you've got to look forward to for the next couple years.

The main thing worth noting after watching the first round of this draft on TV: Commissioner Bud Selig seemed very confused.

He'd come wandering out from behind the curtain up to the podium every 5 minutes to announce each pick looking like he wasn't quite sure where he was or what he was doing. His announcements of each player drafted were more like questions, like he had just heard of some of the players and some of the teams. But I won't bash Bud too much more. He gets plenty of that from everyone else around the league. I did realize something else about Bud though. He's got a long lost brother, from a fairly weighty gene pool.

It's none other than the brilliant astrophysicist Stephen Hawking. That's not meant as a slight to either one of them, but the resemblance is uncanny. But don't just take my word for it, or even just the pictures above.

I'll never be able to read A Brief History of Time the same ever again.

Outsourced

2007-06-03T01:17:00.000-05:00

I've accepted the fact that if someone needs to call Microsoft for product support (and you can bet someone, somewhere, at this second does need Microsoft product support) that when they dial the number and someone answers, they are not speaking to you direct from Redmond, Wash. More like New Delhi, India. Or at least some remote location here in the states. Major corporations often outsource these kinds of jobs. It's cheaper. It allows them to focus on other things. It's a common business practice. Fine, I get that. But there's some places that when I look up the phone number in the phone book, I expect to be talking to someone at the address listed in the phone book. Like when I order a pizza. Apparently, I was wrong.

I decided I wanted Pizza Hut yesterday because I hadn't had anything from there in a while. It's not the greatest, but it's a good choice if you want a place that piles on the pepperonis. I look them up in the phone book to find quite a few locations around town, all listed with different phone numbers. I find the one that's in the shopping center directly across the street from me and call to make my order, which I plan on going to pick up at the store. So I wait 15 minutes and head over. When I give them my name, the woman just kind of stares at me and asks what phone number the order was under. So I give her my phone number and she proceeds to type it in on the computer only to discover that no such order is at the store or was taken by the store.

The story goes on, but here's basically what happened. Apparently, when you dial any one of the different Pizza Hut phone numbers in Corpus, even though there's many different numbers, they all are answered at one single, mystery location. The order is then relayed by computer to whichever location you called. But calling the number for the specific store you want to use apparently didn't matter to whoever was answering phones yesterday because they sent the order to the store on the other side of town. The lady actually at the Pizza Hut store made it sound like this was a common problem. Two pizzas were made for me yesterday. I paid for and received one. So whatever money they are saving by not having someone answer the phone at each location, they're losing in wasted pizzas. Thanks a lot, outsourcing.

Always be giving each other your props and your snaps

2007-05-29T03:10:00.000-05:00

Today you get a double dose of news I find interesting that you might not have read about. The subjects of today's winning stories have my undying respect -- both for very different reasons, but they have my respect, nonetheless. I'll let their stories speak for themselves.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Man breaks sleep deprivation record

A man has claimed a new record by succeeding in his bid to stay awake for 11 days as part of his research into human sleep.

Tony Wright, 42, began his attempt on the 264-hour record at 6 a.m. on May 14 at the Studio Bar in Penzance, west Cornwall.

A qualified horticulturist, he relied on a raw food diet, including fruit, salad, seeds and nuts, to help keep him awake.

After setting the record just after 6 a.m. on Friday, he said: "I feel pretty good but a bit shaky. It has not really sunk in yet that I have beaten the record.

"I do not feel tired yet, but there is a bit of adrenaline pumping around at the moment."

He said his diet and intake of herb tea "seemed to make a big difference to my ability to stay awake and remain functional".

Mr Wright had the help of friends, chatting and playing pool, to keep him awake. He has conducted 15 years of research into human sleep, and claimed each side of the human brain requires a different amount of sleep. With appropriate preparation, it is possible to stay awake and remain functional for long periods, he said.

During his record bid he said he had one "near sleep experience" and found the most difficult thing to do was writing his website diary while sleep-deprived.

Student Randy Gardner set the Guinness World Record in 1964 as part of a science project in San Diego, US.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, apparently there has since been questions raised about if he actually broke the record or not. You can Google that if you'd like. I don't even care. Eleven days is pretty freaking amazing. Here's to you, Tony Wright. I don't even feel like I can boast about my tales of sleep deprivation anymore.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Man Wrestles Leopard That Jumped in Bed

JERUSALEM (AP) - A man clad only in underwear and a T-shirt wrestled a wild leopard to the floor and pinned it for 20 minutes after the cat leapt through a window of his home and hopped into bed with his sleeping family.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen every day," said 49-year-old Arthur Du Mosch, a nature guide. "I don't know why I did it. I wasn't thinking, I just acted."

Raviv Shapira, who heads the southern district of the Israel Nature and Parks Protection Authority, said a half dozen leopards have been spotted recently near Du Mosch's small community in the Negev desert in southern Israel, although they rarely threaten humans.

Shapira said it was probably food that lured the big cat. Leopards living near humans are usually too old to hunt in the wild and resort to chasing down domestic dogs and cats for food, he added.

Du Mosch's pet cat was in the bed with him at the time, along with his young daughter who had been frightened by a mosquito in her own room.

Shapira said the leopard was very weak when park rangers arrived at Du Mosch's home after the surprise late-night visit. He said nature officials would likely release it back into the wild.

Du Mosch said he probably would not have been able to control the big cat were it in better health. As a nature guide, he said, he was familiar with animals and did his best to hold down the leopard without harming it. He said he took it all in stride, "but the kids were excited."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

If I had a list of 10 things (well, maybe 100 things) I wanted to do before I died, reading that story would make me want to add pinning a wild leopard to the floor to the list. And because I don't have a list like that, reading that story makes me want to create that list just so I could add "wild leopard encounter" to it. Now if someone just has a wild leopard to spare. We really don't get too many native ones here on the coast. You can just leave it on my back porch. Or in my car. I won't be too particular.

Please silence your cell phones

2007-05-27T02:07:00.000-05:00

Tonight I joined the rest of America in this year's official Memorial Day Weekend activity: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. As with any summer blockbuster on opening weekend, the theatre filled up pretty quickly. Which always begs the ever-important, movie-experience question: What kind of people will be sitting around you. Because if you're one of the unlucky ones, you have a show killer near you. That's right -- a show killer. One who kills the movie-going experience. For years, there's been the same old culprits. The crying baby. The person who refuses to turn his cell phone off. The chatty friends. The middle school gang of friends. The big-haired old lady who refuses to sit anywhere but directly in front of you. The person who thinks they're the official movie narrator. You get the idea. And we've all experienced them.

But tonight, I realized that the changing technologies has brought a new threat into the theatres: Text-messaging high school girl. This silent threat might be considerate enough to silence the cell phone. But that just means you won't get any warning each time they flip open their phones lighting up a 4-foot radius in the theatre with their 2-inch LCD screen. Luckily, kids these days can type 85 WPM on a numeric keypad, so their phones only have to be open for about 6 seconds to type a response roughly the length of this blog post.

I swear, though, this girl next to me tonight almost sent me in to an epileptic seizure from all the flashing LCD screens. It was like a strobe light. And if the cell phone girl happens to be sitting next to her friend, then you've probably got chatty friends to deal with now because they both have to have a giggle about whatever 12-letter acronym sentence thy just typed to their friend working at Abercrombie and Fitch. I just hope, for their sake, that they have unlimited text messaging on their cell phone plan. Otherwise, that $7.50 movie just became an even more expensive chat room.

Don't you want to earn Schrute Bucks?

2007-05-25T15:48:00.000-05:00

This morning I opened my eyes to the sound of rain falling and the rumblings of thunder. Perfect opportunity to lie in bed for another hour, dozing off and on listening to the rain. Also a perfect opportunity to visit the newly opened Shipley Do-Nuts across the street for a couple sausage kolaches and a bag of doughnut holes. What a way to start the weekend. The rain has turned into more than a constant drizzle. Just enough that you really don't want to get out in it. You'd think I'd be used to this kind of rain after nine months of living in a coastal town. But I've been surprised at how often it threatens to rain around here but doesn't actually do anything. Those grey clouds come rolling in right off the Gulf, and just when you think we're gonna get a shower, they keep right on blowing by.

For some reason, my nights designing the front page at work have been designated the nights for something to go horribly wrong. This week's disaster waited until the very end of the evening, just about the time some of the night crew can begin to filter out. When you're on front page duty, though, you're there until the bitter end. Even if there's a big problem waiting for you at the bitter end and there's few people left to do anything about it. But I won't lie, I like getting to be that guy. Every once in a while.

What do you want on your Tombstone?

2007-05-22T23:50:00.000-05:00

A major streak ended today, and this one had nothing to do with consecutive blog posts. I managed to eat a pizza for lunch without burning the roof of my mouth. This might seem like a simple thing, but I think I've burned my mouth eating oven-cooked pizzas every time since ... oh ... high school. And considering I typically eat a couple of them a week nowadays, that's a lot of first- or second-degree burns. In fact, I really shouldn't have any feeling left on the roof of my mouth at all. I don't know what's so hard about waiting 3 minutes after it comes out of the toaster, but it's a skill that has escaped me for years. I think it's part of a larger problem, though. If Superman has Kryptonite, then I've got heat. It's my weakness. If I get to close to it, I'm going to get burned ... literally ... in a couple various ways. I've already mentioned the pizza example. Then there's the fact that I rarely escape a cooking or baking excursion in the oven without burning a finger or my hand on a hot surface. It has nothing to do with my cooking ability. The food usually turns out fine. My fingers, often, do not. And ever since I was a child, I've always sunburned very easily. Too easily. I guess it's what I get for being the prototypical Aryan specimen. Such is my lot in life. This one, I've learned to cope with. That entails sealing myself with sunscreen whenever I have plans to set foot in the sun and reapplying, oh, every hour or so. But the others -- I think I'll just learn to live with them. Either that, or invest in some really good oven mitts.

What a long, strange journey it's been

2007-05-21T23:44:00.000-05:00

Today marks two milestones for this blog. First, today marks the end of the 21-straight-days-of-blogging-regardless-of-what's-going-on experiment. What a journey it's been. Before the experiment began, blogging had become a chore. I'd sit around thinking about what I wanted to write (big surprise) for so long that I either wouldn't ever get around to writing anything or I'd scare myself away from posting in the first place because I didn't want to spend the time to crank out a post. But that was old Blogger Jonathan. Old Blogger Jonathan wanted each post to be perfect. New Blogger Jonathan simply doesn't care about that. He knows that even if one post wasn't great, as long as he is consistently posting new thoughts, a poor or undeveloped post will eventually be buried among new ones. Enough with the third-person omniscient, but you get the picture. Which brings me to my second milestone ...

After almost 2 and a half years of blogging, I have finally reached 50 posts. Shameful, I know. And almost half of those posts have come during the 21-days experiment. But at least I'm well on my way to pulling my average up to two posts a month. Even in that small sample, I've noticed the nature of the posts changing through the years. Sometimes the posts were sporadic but lengthy life updates, such as when I was away on a summer job. Sometimes they were about random things that happened in my life. Sometimes they simply were me trying to be witty. Never really any rhyme or reason to what kind of post it would be. But lately (during the 21-day experiment at least), the blog has more or less morphed into a typical journal where I simply write short blurbs about what's going on that day. Might be about work. Might be about a new hobby. Might be about an upcoming event. Might even throw in the occasional deep though. There never used to be any good reason to keep a running chronicle of my life on this thing because most of its readers were already around me for several hours (or more) each day. But now that I've been off on my own, this seems to make the most sense. And I think I'm happy with where the blog has arrived for now. And because I continue to get comments from different people on most days' posts, I'll assume the readers mostly are satisfied. So I'll keep 'em coming if you'll keep on coming back. I'm not guaranteeing they'll keep coming every day now that my experiment is up, but that's what I'll shoot for.

And it wouldn't be a milestone post, if I didn't give thank my faithful, or even unfaithful, readers. There really wouldn't be a point to all this without you. All seven of you.

Don't underestimate the Force

2007-05-20T15:21:00.000-05:00

(Yes, I've been going through the Star Wars films ...)

A quick post before beginning my work week. I'd first like to report that I am feeling moderately well. Definitely sore, but I think I've been sorer at other points in my life. I'd also like to point out that I've probably never been cleaner in my life. I've maintained my regular daily shower the past two days, but nothing feels quite as good to the sore muscles than a nice soak in a bath, which I've done the past two days as well. I'm sure this will make me reach my 3-bath-a-year average much more quickly this year, though. You see, ever since I discovered the shower (late elementary school, perhaps?) I haven't been one to utilize an actual bath very often. Save two circumstances. When I'm sick or when I'm very sore. And usually some combination of these adds up to 3 baths or so each year. I think I'll allow myself more without much remorse this year.

As my good friend Justin Scott, future J.D., has discussed in the past, running can develop into a sort of addiction for the people who are really into it. I'm certainly far off from developing any kind of addiction to running, but I think I can understand now how it happens. You run one distance and you think, "You know, I could probably add a little more to that," or "I could probably do that a little faster." Then pretty soon, you're looking for new distances or times to challenge you, and it becomes a vicious cycle. And since I ran approximately a 7K yesterday, my thoughts have been how close that seems to a 10K and how I could probably achieve that if I actually disciplined my training a little better. So that's my next goal. I don't know if I'll participate in something as structured as an actual race again, but that's the distance I'm shooting for next. Once I hit that, we'll see where it leads from there.

I just felt like running

2007-05-19T18:05:00.000-05:00

What better way to enjoy my pain of the day than an entirely mental journal of the morning's events that I have transcribed from my couch? Before we get to that, though, here's a few things to catch you up if you didn't know. Today I took part in a relay marathon on a six-member team made up of people from the newspaper. We were all in decent enough shape, but not the peak of physical fitness either. Most of us would have been happy just to finish our legs in a respectable enough time. Me? I was just hoping to keep my miles under 10 minutes on average, and I would have been thrilled to finish in less than 40 minutes. I got the "privilege" of running the first leg, which started at 7 a.m. but would require an even earlier wake-up call. It's also the only leg that's entirely on the sand of the beach. I had heard that there were some portions of the beach that the sand remained packed down pretty well, so I hoped that wouldn't be too much of a factor. My leg consisted of running about 2.2 miles south down the beach to a turnaround and then back to the original starting line where I would hand off to a teammate who would continue running north (and yes, it is a little disheartening that my leg in no way got us any closer to the finish line). And now for the entirely mental journal that I bring to you to the best of my recollection.

4 a.m. - Didn't even need the three extra alarms set on my phone. Was able to hop (or at least crawl) right out of bed. Who would have thought it, especially at 4 a.m. (I've gone to bed later than this time.)

4:22 - No matter what I do, these arms simply aren't made for a tank top shirt. However, that is what the company has provided its sponsored teams. So it's what I wear. Also, note to self: when tank tops are unavoidable, order one in a size smaller than you normally wear. This thing might fall off me.

4:55 - At the H.E.B. just before the bridge to North Padre Island to catch buses to the starting line with all the other first and second leggers. Haven't seen this many people gathered together before 5 a.m. in a long time. Maybe never.5

5:25 - Let off the bus a good half a mile away from the starting line. Wouldn't be so disconcerting if it still wasn't the dead of night. The stars are still out, and we're all hiking in to darkness. Guess it's a good warmup

5:34 - Now we wait. Race doesn't start until 7 a.m. We just wait for the 3,000-plus people running either the first or the second leg to all get here.

6:26 - Powerbars are weird. They're chewy, but at the same time, they're grainy. What do they put in these things?

6:50 - Time to find a place in the horde of people. Our beach isn't that wide to begin with. Couple that with trying to squeeze 1,500 runners in a small area of it, and it makes for a very crowded area.

7:01 - Starting horn.

7:02 - I thought the sand was supposed to be more packed down than this. It most certainly is not. Most others seem to agree. Lots of traversing back and forth across the beach trying to find a lane that's solid.

7:05 - What was I thinking?

7:14 - In awe of the Kenyan who's already hit the turnaround and just passed me going the other way. I believe he finished in something just over 18 minutes.

7:21 - I hit the turnaround, but I can't let up any if I want to keep my time close to the 40-minute mark.

7:28 - Trouble strikes. All of a sudden I feel like I need to slow it down.

7:29 - There's never a reason to schedule rests during a run even if you really feel like you need it if you can coordinate those times with a quick and effective throw-up break. Some of you might be grossed out by this. But if you really know me, then you know that this really is no big deal for me. Just like any other week during the fall semester of my junior year of college.

7:31 - That's the best thing that could have happened. I feel good now, got my breath, and I'm good to go for the last push. Just lost a bit of time, so I'll have to pick it up.

7:42 - Make the handoff in just over 40 minutes. Don't feel like collapsing or anything, but it's good to be done. And even with the lost time, I still managed to keep the miles under 10 minutes each on average. And since the sand was even harder than anticipated, I'm thrilled to have kept it close to 40 minutes.

And so ends the mental journal. But the worst part of it all, I think, was still to come. Because now there are 1,500 tired people who want to leave North Padre Island, and most want to go back to Corpus over the one and only bridge in that direction. Many have their own cars there, but the rest of us pile on to shuttles. Of course, I was one of the group that didn't have a seat but was standing in the aisle. Who knew that it would take us an hour and a half to travel the 5 miles back to the H.E.B. I think I was more glad to be done with that trip than the actual run.

And now I'm lying on the couch, where I plan to be the rest of the day. It's not that I'm hurting so much right now. I did take a pre-emptive strike dose of Advil just in case. I'm just feeling tired, both from the run and from being up since 4 a.m. Tomorrow is when the soreness sets in. But until then, I'm just kicking back on the couch running up my electric bill to get it so cold I want to use a blanket. Maybe I'll get out a little later for some celebratory KFC. But that's going to be it.

I have something that no one else has: My brain

2007-05-18T20:51:00.000-05:00

I come to you today at a different time than normal. The 2 a.m. posts had to be put on hold for a few days this weekend. It just wouldn't have meshed well with tomorrow's 4:15 a.m. wake-up time. That's right, the day of the race is upon us. And because I was off work the day before and the day of the race (and also probably because I'm the youngest) I get to run the first leg of the marathon. So I have to be at the shuttle stop to catch a ride to the starting line by 5 a.m. That actually might be the hardest part of this whole ordeal. So I'm shooting to go to bed earlier than I have in years -- no later than 10 p.m. We'll see how that goes. One of the relay veterans at work swears the first leg is the best because it's not hot yet and you get it out of the way instead of waiting at one of the exchange points for a while as other runners pass by. But it's also the one and only leg that's run on the beach, so we'll see how the sand treats me.

I've cleared most of my afternoon tomorrow in case I just feel like lying around the rest of the day. I'll get back to you all when it's all over.

Something has gone horribly wrong

2007-05-17T02:46:00.000-05:00

A strange thing happened tonight. At about 9 p.m. tonight, everyone in the newsroom could be seen milling around the floor, mingling, watching TV. Not a soul was working on the paper. 9 p.m. typically signals the beginning of crunch time -- the final push toward deadline. A scene like this could only mean one thing. Something had gone horribly wrong. A server crashed had crashed with our database on it. We couldn't get into any pages to design them. Editors could open stories to edit them. So we mingled around the office for an hour while we waited for the problem to be fixed. Didn't matter if it was going to be one, two or three hours. When putting out a newspaper, you don't just call it a night if the computers are down. It just means you stay later. Luckily things had been going well up until the crash. We only missed an hour of work, but our last page was sent only half an hour after our original deadline. Not bad at all.

The whole situation got me thinking about all the newsroom disasters I've been involved in during my eight years in newspapers. I've decided I've had my share already, but I'm sure I'm not done with them. I thought I'd run through the ones I could think of right off hand. All these fall into the category of some sort of major work stoppage or hinderance to work that lasted more than a few minutes. And I'm not even going to count your basic frantic days when some news broke really late or we had to wait on some developing story like election nights. Some of you will remember some of these, feel free to chime in with your own.

Sophomore year of high school (Spring 2000): My first year on the high school newspaper staff is coming to a close as the staff works to put out its big senior issue. We arrived at the office early Saturday to discover that power is out to the entire school. The editor and his father promptly rent a gas-powered generator that we set up outside the office that gives us enough juice to power a few computers, the printer and a lamp. Power isn't restored until we return Monday for school, so we worked the whole weekend like that.

Sophomore year of college ('03-'04): Power goes on and off in the Don Morris Center so often that by the time you get the computer restarted and working on a page again, the power has flickered again. Makes making any progress on a page very difficult. Lots of banging and yelling heard coming from the editor's office.

Junior and senior years of college ('04-'06): More building power issues, except these weren't just surges. We're talking several hours of power outages. This category could be split into several crises if I simply remembered how many times this happened. I remember at least two times. Once junior year during a thunderstorm. Resulted in the hardcore staffers (you know who you are) hanging out around a dark office, lined up at the windows watching the storm until power was restored. Another time, and probably the longest outage I remember, resulted in the cancellation of Opinion writing class and more sitting around waiting for hours. It was also during these times that we discovered one of the more glaring weaknesses of the building.

Summer 2005:A former city commissioner of Miami walks into the lobby of The Miami Herald and fatally shoots himself a mere 5 floors below my feet on the sports copy desk. The building is locked down for a while as all the employees stay inside and continue working while we all wonder what's going on below.

I'm sure there's even more that I'm not even remembering. Maybe you recall some more. I'd love to have my memory jogged if I've left out your favorite. But as awful as some of these were to experience, I don't know that I'd trade any of them. Even thinking back on them now made me think of so much else that I didn't put on the list. Perhaps they'll make other lists on another day.

Let me break this down for you Bob-O style

2007-05-16T02:28:00.000-05:00

Signs that you might be in over your head: Packaging and instructions for your recently purchased tools come only in a foreign language.

I experienced this earlier today when some bonsai tools arrived in the mail. As I pulled each tool out, I was greeted by more and more little Japanese symbols and very few characters that made any sense to me. At least there won't be any suggesting that these aren't authentic from Japan. They all look like what I ordered, but unless I learn Japanese, I'll never know if they have the same names as the things I ordered. At least the three spools of aluminum wire were labeled 1.5 mm, 2.0 mm and 2.5 mm -- I know what those characters mean, and that's what I wanted. But now I've got an even harder task than learning Japanese so I can read about these tools I got -- Now, I have to learn how to use the tools to make the bonsai trees do what I want them to do.

At least I have a book to get me started. And at least it's in English -- not that that's all that helpful in some cases. Flipping through the book today was a bit like flipping through your physics textbook on the first day of class. Lots of pictures, diagrams and symbols, but a lot of stuff I still don't understand. I always knew there was more to this art than Mr. Miyagi let on in The Karate Kid, but some of this stuff goes really in-depth. Guess it will just be a learning process for quite a while. But that's the exciting thing about learning a new hobby. First up: figuring out how to wire the branches.

From the land under the land down under

2007-05-15T00:41:00.000-05:00

Who doesn't enjoy a good idiot-criminal story? You know the kind: some guy (or girl ... no discrimination on this blog) does something illegal, then follows that poor decision up by doing something just plain dumb that often results in this person's apprehension. And when I see one, I usually have a good chuckle, ask a bunch of rhetorical questions that only God and that criminal know the answer to (What was that guy thinking? How could she do that? etc.) and then move on with my day. But one of these stories caught my eye today for one reason alone: it's location. The dateline read "Wellington, New Zealand." And I realized I have a great opportunity to understand this story a little better. You see, I've got my very own New Zealand expert among this blog's readership. A former employee of its government, even. So, former Kiwi, enlighten us with your insight on the following:

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Man breaks into,
then out of jail cell

WELLINGTON, New Zealand (AP) -- A bumbling intruder broke into an empty New Zealand police station and accidentally locked himself in a cell, but managed to smash his way out again just before authorities arrived.

Sgt. Graham McGurk on Monday said the person broke into the deserted police station in the town of Matamata on North Island on Saturday night through the front office.

The intruder went to the cell bloc, and was accidentally locked in when a self-closing door clicked shut.

As police rushed to respond to an intruder alarm at the post, the intruder used a wooden chair that was inside the cell to smash through a window -- supposedly outfitted with shatter-proof glass -- to freedom.

Arriving officers could hear the intruder, but he fled through the front of the station as police were closing in from the back, McGurk said.

"It was quite unusual. The offender has almost done the job for us, getting himself locked in our cell," he said.

It wasn't known why the person broke into the police station, and nothing was stolen, McGurk said.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

So, now it's time for the rhetorical questions. Except, maybe this time I can get some answers, if my well traveled friend would be so kind as to ablige. First, what kind of police station these days is ever empty? Are the New Zealand jails so nice that this is how some guy might want to spend his Saturday night? And what's up with having a conveniently placed escape window in a cell? Is it common practice to make sure even the inmates have a view of the beautiful countryside?

So many questions, but I'm sure you all can think of the rest on your own. But lastly (I ask more rhetorically this time to no one in particular), what ever happened to a good, old-fashioned empty concrete jail cell surrounded by unshatterable iron bars? It might have made the New Zealand streets might have been a safer place today. But, judging by this guy's criminal abilities, I'm not going to lose much sleep worrying about what he might do next.

You have failed me for the last time

2007-05-14T02:02:00.001-05:00

This was an important weekend for the cinema. At long last, the season finale of Chad Vader premiered online. Episode 8 brought to a close Season 1, which have been sporadically posted online during the past 10 months. Hold on, I feel I may have lost some of you. A little background. Chad Vader, as the name would suggest, is the younger, less well known, less talented brother of the infamous Darth. Season 1 chronicles his journey, which begins at Empire-Mart, where Chad is day-shift manager. As with most any viral video online, you either know exactly what I'm talking about, or you have missed out on it entirely. If you're in the latter group, don't fret. I bring to you Chad Vader: Episode I

Now, count yourself ready for the other seven episodes. They only get better, and it's a great way to spend 40 minutes.

You've been graveled

2007-05-13T02:14:00.000-05:00

First, let me just say that TV on DVD has to be one of the top 10 innovations of the decade. Easily. It doesn't even matter if it was innovated before this decade.

Now, for the real purpose of today's post. My apartment needs a name. This name need not make sense. It just has to sound cool (but bonus points if it does make sense and sound cool). Right now, after thinking about it for about 5 minutes, I think I'm most partial to The Crow's Nest. Although, The Priory does have a certain ring to it. Or, The Model Home, simply for the constant Arrested Development references I could make. Or I could be like the Texas Rangers and first name it The Apartment in Corpus Christi. Then, after everyone (who at first hated the name) gets used to that, sell the naming rights to to a failing business. Then, make up some excuse shortly after that so I can rechristen it Jonathan's Apartment in Corpus Christi. The point is, my apartment needs an identity. And I want to reward the blogging faithful out there with an opportunity to have a hand in that identity. So, if you've got something clever or witty or you simply want me to name it after you, send the suggestion my way. Remember, you can't win if you don't play.

Super Saturday

2007-05-12T02:36:00.000-05:00

For today's post, I'd just like to congratulate my senior friends who are graduating today. After fourish years at ACU, you've earned the right today to count how many times someone tells you that you will change the world.

Today, we've got every journalists dream day: an election. That means everyone is getting called in to work, even if we're normally off on Saturdays. But I won't be working news-side on this election; I'll be helping out with sports. This might be the best possible situation on election night. I get to be around all the excitement of the evening, but I get to avoid some of the headaches of the election news that can't come together until late in the evening. Although, I won't avoid all of this working over in sports, seeing as those events regularly finish late in the evening.

But regardless of the stress or the amount of work or of getting called in on my weekend, there's not many better places to be during an election than a newsroom. Maybe the sounds of that pressure and stress don't sound like your idea of fun night. But it certainly makes for a memorable night. I think my former Optimist cohorts will at least agree with that.

Bust a move

2007-05-11T03:34:00.000-05:00

For years, the arrival of summer has always meant the arrival of something new in my life. While in college, it meant three new jobs in three different places: one in Abilene as a camp counselor, one in Washington, D.C., as a reporting intern, and one in Miami as a copy editing intern. Summers in high school meant a new city to visit in Mexico, a different mountain to climb in Colorado, a different group of people to get to know at camp. Then there were family vacations to some new state and some different landmark. Even last summer brought on a job search which finally culminated in the job I find myself now. Which brings me to this summer.

No more weeks and weeks of time to which I can decide to do as I please. No job search to keep me guessing where I'm going to end up. No big trips planned south of the border or to the top of mountain. I've just recently taken a vacation and don't yet have a reason to take another one. I think for the first time since I was old enough to have summer plans, I've got nothing new happening this summer -- hardly any plans at all to speak of. And that might make this summer the most different summer of all.

Running from running

2007-05-10T03:38:00.001-05:00

I might be speeding toward disaster. The days keep passing by, and before you know it, it will be May 19. And on May 19, I'll be participating in my first ever race: as a member of one of the teams in the city's relay marathon. Of course, I use the term "race" very loosely. It's only a race in the sense that they'll be timing us and there's a start and finish line. Some people will take the race part a little more seriously; apparently people from all over come to Corpus to take part in this. So there will be some hardcore runners out there. And then there'll be me. It's not that I'm horribly out of shape. I've flirted with physical fitness off an on the past couple years. It's just never been a very deep or meaningful romance. Just enough to get by. But I had been doing better the past few months. In case you haven't noticed, though, the past couple weeks, I've been a little preoccupied with work. There hasn't been much getting out, and I don't think that will change a whole lot between now and the race.

But running just has never been my forte. Oh, I'll do it because it's efficient enough exercise. But I've never really learned to enjoy it. I could walk all day -- and on a couple of occasions I've done just that. I've hiked up mountains and even backpacked 100+ miles over a span of 10.5 days and come through just fine (just with two incredibly numb big toes). And I chose to do these things. But when I trade in the hiking boots for running shoes and increase the pace, and it becomes something I do more out of necessity than desire.

But there I'll be in 9 days, likely running on the beach or across the causeway bridge. The distance isn't even all that terrifying, but it's certainly farther than I would normally choose to go. But, as the youngest member of my team, I'd really prefer not to embarrass myself. I make no guarantees though. I figure I'm young enough that I can do something stupid to my body every once in a while and it will forgive me. But my body and I might not be on speaking terms next weekend. Or my body might flip me off for several consecutive days after the race (maybe even the dreaded double deuce). Maybe I just need to get on the 'roids for the next few days. Doubt I'll be urine tested at the finish line. I could stand a little 'roid rage as a side effect. Might be kinda entertaining. Just don't let the commissioner of Major League Baseball know.

There's nothing on my horizon except everything

2007-05-09T02:11:00.000-05:00

Today, my company put out its procedures for what we do in case of a hurricane seeing as hurricane season officially begins in less than a month. Now, for many of you, the answer to this dilemma is simple: Get the heck out of town. But it's not so simple for a newspaper man. In case you haven't noticed, a lot of newspapers' best work happens during crises ... and a hurricane certainly qualifies as a crisis. Even the New Orleans Times-Picayune continued to publish after Katrina, albeit in an off-site location. Here though, we've got the option of being part of the all-volunteer staff in the case of a direct hit by a storm. I must say, it's quite tempting. However, the odds of this coming in to play should not be that strong. This town, for whatever reason, doesn't get hit by hurricanes that often. I say the odds of those shouldn't be strong because this town has never gone through an entire hurricane season with me living in its city limits. Some of you might call that a little ego-centric (narcissistic, even) -- whatever. I long ago have determined that I am a news blackhole -- wherever I go, major or bizarre news events seem to get sucked in, too. If you don't believe me, test me, but I think this is now well document history (or at least a pretty strong theory). And I think it's been more than a year since I found myself in the midst of some major news event, so the time is definitely ripe. So, forget what the climatologists tell you -- I'm getting ready for a hurricane. Now I just need to decide where I'd rather be when it hits: stuck in traffic on I-37 on the way to San Antonio or in a building (whicn I'm sure is built like a bunker) a couple hundred yards from the ocean.

How would I describe myself? Three words: Hard working ... alpha male ... jackhammer ... merciless ... insatiable

2007-05-08T02:45:00.000-05:00

What a night. I'm happy to announce that everyone left the newsroom alive tonight because, apparently, this isn't always a guarantee. During training last week, we asked the people from the software company what was the worst experience they had seen for a paper making the switch to new software. Without hesitation, one of them breaks into a story of one employee at some paper dying of a heart attack during the first week. You might say that's just an unfortunate coincidence, and that's what we said, but after going throught the first day of the switch, you begin to think that a connection could be possible. All things considered, I think it went pretty well, and, as I've said recently, there's always something very satisfying about finishing an exhausting day on the job.

I promise I'll get to other topics besides newspaper software one of these days. It's just all I've been living and breathing the past two weeks. I realize that two-thirds of my readership (somewhere in the neighborhood of four people) do not care how an article travels between computer programs from the metro editors to the designers to the copy editors back to the designers back to the copy editors back to the designers and then to the presses (althought it's probably a lot more complicated than you think). When my life isn't consumed by this, you'll get something else. It could be worse -- I could go months without posting again (at least I hope that's worse).

I don't really have much else to say tonight. But I've blogged every day for a week, so if I want to make it a habit, I've got 13 more days to go.

'Blood alone moves the wheels of history'

2007-05-07T02:23:00.000-05:00

Today marked the end of our old computer system at work. I got to design the final front page using it. Big deal. Now that system goes the way of Windows 3.1 and Adobe PageMaker. Tomorrow's a bigger day though: The switch to the new system. This will be my third fundamental change in newspaper software in two years (fourth fundamental change in three years). It'll take some time to get used to it. But I'm not so worried about myself. There's something a lot more daunting about the fact that everyone is making this switch at once. When you're the new guy coming in to a room full of knowledgeable people, there's always someone there willing to help or teach. But starting tomorrow, we're all the new guy. A few people know more than others and can help out, but for the most part, we're all just feeling this out together. So that should make for an interesting week. And a long week. And a busy week. But hopefully not a bad week. Get back to me in five days.

And the bonsai tree naming game is still open. Not that I'm not satisfied with John Wayne and Steve Martin. But I gotta keep my options open.

If a bonsai tree falls in the woods, and no one is around to hear it ...

2007-05-06T03:15:00.000-05:00

I bought another bonsai tree today. You might not have known I had one at all, but now I have the beginnings of my own forest. Two little junipers. The one I got today is 5 years old. I'm not exactly sure about my other one, but I'm guessing it's about the same age or maybe a bit older by a couple of years. Because this new one is a little bit younger, it's still fairly pliable and I should be able to form it to my liking. If only everything in life were that pliable. New hobbies are always exciting because theres so much to learn and so many new things you have to get. I may never be a Mr. Miyagi as far as bonsai trees go, but it should be cool to always have a few around to dabble in the art. Makes me feel cultured. Here's a couple pictures of my forest.

I've decided they need names. So I'll solicit suggestions. You have the disadvantage of not being able to be around the trees to know their personality, but I'm sure some of you might be inspired to offer some insight. What do ya got?

Congratulations universe. You win.

2007-05-05T01:08:00.000-05:00

Perhaps this sudden dedication to blogging is actually catching on. I even began to dream about blogging last night. I remember clearly thinking during some all-to-real dream scenario that I would have to blog about that later. I'm not going to blog about that; you don't get to know. But the fact remains: This blog follows me even into my dreams. I don't want to jinx anything, but maybe I'm actually getting the hang of this whole thing.

Life lesson of the day: Don't lick an envelope with an Atomic Fireball in your mouth. It tends to look like you suffered an especially nasty paper cut while sealing the envelope.

The only difference between me and a homeless man is this job

2007-05-04T03:06:00.000-05:00

I've been folding paper airplanes for the better part of an hour and a half. They're littered around me, across the room from me and even in the room beyond. I haven't known what else to do, so I've sat here folding planes. Some have been for flying. Some for decoration. Some glided as far as my apartment allowed and others failed miserably. And those that have failed miserably only bring to mind one thing: my Dallas Mavericks. You see, they were eliminated from the playoffs earlier tonight. The No. 1 seed, a 67-win team with the sixth-best regular season ever, out against a team that had to win on the last day of the season to even make the playoffs. This is hard when you consider the amount of time invested for those fans who have watched or listened to games, or the amount of productivity lost because a TV at the office had the game on in the background. I didn't know what else to do, so I've been folding airplanes. There's something very therapeutic about the repetitive folding and creasing. I've mellowed out now. And of course, I have to offer a special thank to my well-traveled Pacific Northwestern friend who talked me off the edge in this, my hour of great need.

But the week is over (I think/hope). I made it through training at work and have a couple days off before what I'm sure will be the craziest day at work in a long time. That would be the day the entire office switches to the new computer system. But I don't have to think about that now, so I won't. Right now, it's all weekend, all the time -- for two days. I will take suggestions from my more creative readers about what I should do on this fine weekend. Looks like the weather should be good. All options are on the table. And who knows: I just might select your suggestion and would be indebted to you for at least two days. So, let's hear 'em.

Fact: You have a better chance of being hit by a meteorite than eaten by a wolf

2007-05-03T02:17:00.000-05:00

First of all, I would like to thank Mr. Dwight Schrute for the titles of my posts in this uncharacteristic string of posts. I owe this sudden dedication to blogging all to you, Rainn Wilson.

Unfortunately, I have very little of my own thoughts on this fine evening. I'm still in the midst of training week at work and it has consumed most all of my days and evenings and will for at least one more day. So, as my brain is fried with all sorts of computer and software terminology, I'll have to bring someone else's story to you today. I hope you enjoy. I present to you the story of Hector the Chihuahua.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Chihuahua held

for $50 ransom
Dog is wired to look like bomb, tossed into bar

Toledo Blade
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 05.02.2007

TOLEDO, Ohio — Hector went on the ride of his life early Monday.

And it's not one the dog or his owner wants to remember.

The long-haired Chihuahua was dognapped and held for $50 ransom. Then he was bound with duct tape, a broken electrical device and wires to look like a bomb. And he was thrown through the open front door of his owner's bar in Toledo.

"It was hard (that) my dog showed up like that. (Hector) was shakin' and carryin' on, definitely disturbed," said Jerry Dalton, 77, owner of Jerry's Pub. "It was strictly indescribable. My dog, I love him."

Shortly after bar patrons panicked — for they initially thought Hector was a bomb — a woman accused in the crime was handcuffed and booked into the Lucas County jail.

Latonia Hill, 35, was charged with inducing panic, cruelty to animals and menacing. She was being held in jail in lieu of a $3,000 bond on the misdemeanors after arraignment in Toledo Municipal Court.

Police responded to the bar on a bomb threat. There, they were told Hill, the ex-girlfriend of Dalton's son, dognapped the pooch.

She tried to extort money from Dalton for Hector's safe return, and said she would blow up his bar and kill the dog, police said.

Hill is accused of using orange tape to attach the electrical device and wires to Dalton's furry friend, going to the bar, and tossing Hector inside.

Police arrested her at her home at short time later.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I just don't know that I can top that tonight. So I won't try. Feel free to discuss. I know we've got some animal lovers out there. So many possibilities: The fact she wanted only a $50 ransom.The fact that you can be charged with something called "menacing." The mental image of this woman doing a drive-by, but instead of pulling out a gun, she whips out a Chihuahua and hurls it through a door (I'm picturing an old time saloon with those swinging wooden doors). Here's to you, Hector. Glad your safe and sound Hector, and I'm even happier we got to share in your story.

Fact: I am faster than 80 percent of all snakes

2007-05-02T01:30:00.000-05:00

I am worn out.

But this isn't another post like yesterday's. I got home from work a little after 11 p.m. tonight feeling pretty good. But then I sat down to watch the last 9 minutes of Game 5 of the Mavericks/Warriors series. But I wasn't sitting down for long. For about the last 20 minutes minutes of the game, I'm standing in the middle of of my living room. Now, I don't yell often -- about anything. But standing there in front of my television, I'm yelling at the screen, fist pumping along with the players and appealing to the referees. For the final 2 minutes of the game, my fingers are clasped across my scalp and I'm pacing around the coffee table. And by the end (which ended in a Maverick victory, or else I would be writing a much different blog), I'm totally worn out.

Now I realize that much of my readership probably doesn't think it can relate to this, but don't laugh. You do it, too. Whether it's standing in front of your TV watching 24, or Lost, or Alias, or The West Wing or a Liverpool soccer match or The Bachelor, there's something that makes you scream at the TV or gets you worked up over fictional characters.

Now, with all this Mavericks talk, I now come to the question you're all wondering about: What would Jonathan's facial hair look like if he tried to grow a full beard? You have to look no further than the NBA's MVP-to-be (translation: Dirk Nowitzki (pronounced Noh-vit-ski))

Sadly, I have yet to find a quality image that captures this scruff in all its patchiness, but these will give you just a taste of what Dirk Nowitzki has going on. Seeing it live on TV takes it to a whole new level. But rest assured, give me a solid 18 months to not a let a razor touch my face, and I might achieve something close to this.

Question: What kind of bear is best?

2007-05-01T01:38:00.000-05:00

This week might confirm that I have, in fact, aged 12.8 years in the past 11 months.

A little background. Our office is training everyone on a new computer system. This week is my week. This means training from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. beginning today (Monday) through Thursday. But we also still have a paper to put out. So that means Monday through Wednesday, I'm also working my regular shift until at least 11 p.m., and more likely midnight. So that makes for a few 12- or 13-hour days at the office.

Eleven months ago, 12-plus-hour days days at the office not only were not a big deal, they were commonplace. In fact, if I didn't spend about that much time up in my office, I barely knew what to do with myself. Now, as soon as I pass the typical workday point of 9 hours, something flips off in me. I get tired, I feel like I've had a full day of work and have earned the rest of the day off. It's amazing what a few months off that college routine and schedule will do for you.

I took a strange sort of pride in being able to be up and functional for 40 straight hours, or being up and going 20 hours a day for several days in a row during those special times of the year. It makes me a little sad to realize that, even though I have no reason to work like that anymore, that I probably couldn't even if I needed to.

One thing that hasn't changed though is that it still feels good to put in those long hours. Oh, they might be harder on me now than they used to be. But there's something so exhilarating about putting in a long, hard day at work and walking away at night being able to look back on all you were able to accomplish. I often will find myself smiling almost uncontrollably, or humming some happy tune in my head on those nights as I walk from the office to my car to head home. You hear stories about the long-distance runners getting a "runner's high" from a particularly tough run where they had to really exert themselves. This is my runner's high; my drug, if you will.

I guess that's how the rest of life will be. I'll look back every few years and realize that there are things I can't physically handle as well as I could in the past. But I think I'll be happy as long as I can enjoy being able to still push myself to the limit -- even if it's just every once in a while.

Frapee'd

2007-03-27T15:08:00.000-05:00

I have a blender. Actually, I have two blenders -- a regular-sized one and a hand-held one. It's admissions like this that really make you think you are well equipped to handle life on your own. After all, what ill-equipped, unprepared person has a blender they regularly use, much less two. And then days like yesterday come around to keep you guessing on the whole being-well-equipped-for-life-on-your-own thing.

I had my blender out and ready to use, like I do many mornings. The bottom O-ring was screwed on to the glass jar of the blender, and i was set on the base ready to go. So I poured in the yogurt and then went for the juice carton. As I was about to pour the juice in, I noted that the yogurt level was a little low and I was certain I had put more in there, but I proceeded to pour the juice anyway. But instead of filling the glass jar, it disappeared through the bottom of the jar and immediately coated my kitchen counter. Yes, because despite the fact that I had made sure to screw the O-ring on the bottom of the jar nice and tight, that doesn't do a whole freakin' lot of good if you neglect to also attach the blade piece that also holds everything in the jar. So instead of having the beginnings of a fruit smoothie in my beloved blender, I had a sticky counter and blender motor parts now covered in goo.

On the plus side, I did get to take the blender apart (because what isn't fun about taking apart electric and mechanical items?) so that I could clean the innards of the blender as well as I could. It spent the better part of yesterday in pieces while its parts dried out. I think it's about as good as it's going to get.

And now, I will attempt something that might never have been attempted before in the history of blogging. I will put the blender back together and see if it still works. Everyone hold your breath ...

IT WORKS!!

So I still have two working blenders. But I'll hold off on proclaiming my life all together until I can handle correctly and consistently assembling a simple blender for use. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some blending to do.

Most wonderful time of the year ...

2006-11-04T02:36:00.000-06:00

Some people say it's the day after Thanksgiving. Others go for Tax-Free Weekend. These don't come close. So when's the best time to go shopping? Give me the days following Halloween any day. When else are stores literally trying to unload a surplus of all kinds of candy. Other post-holidays offer cheap candy, but it's generally limited in scope. Peeps on the Monday after Easter. Candy hearts on Feb. 15. Only the post-Halloween days offer candy of all kinds, even your basic Butterfingers and Crunch Bars. So find your friendly Super Wal-Mart or H.E.B. and stock up. This time comes but once a year.

And now for the semiregular Gloria Perez update. The story took an unfortunate turn the other day. The latest call came from a hospital. A children's hospital, no less, that specializes in pediatric care of life threatening injuries or illnesses. It wasn't some doctor desperately trying to get ahold of Ms. Perez about some test results. No, this was the business office, no doubt calling to settle a bill for services rendered. To be honest, I had become rather fond of the annoying phone calls and in turn, channeling that annoyance back to the mysterious Ms. Perez. That was a lot easier when I didn't think she might have been bankrupted from paying for her child's medical expenses. I mean, if you're going to leave me as your personal secretary, you should at least let me keep the joy of the position. Now, a little piece of that has been taken from me. Oh, I'll still enjoy unraveling the mystery that is Gloria Perez, I just can't enjoy being angry with her as much anymore.

Mystery begins to unravel

2006-10-31T11:46:00.000-06:00

Gloria Perez.

This is the woman who apparently used to own my new phone number. I've received several more phone calls for this woman from various agencies since I last posted, all of which have helped to unravel the mystery that is Gloria Perez.

I last posted about receiving phone calls from what sounded like a law office. After receiving another one this morning and almost every week day for the past week, I decided I had the call the number back to get them to stop. I discovered the number belongs to Encore Receivable Management, which is a credit and debt service. Translation: They are creditors who handle debt collection for various companies. According to their Web site, they specialize in the markets of communiation services (wireline, wireless and cable), financial services (banks, credit cards and whatnot) and retail companies. I'm not sure who Ms. Perez owed money to. My guess is either a bank or credit card company or a cell phone company, which is why I now have her phone number.

So, although the debt collector service was very telling about my mystery person's past, I was a little disappointed that I wasn't receiving phone calls from law offices. That is, until I actually received a phone call from a law office. The law firm of Linebarger Goggins Blair & Sampson called the other day and wished to speak to Ms. Perez. A quick Googling of this law firm didn't reveal much. Only that they appear to be based in Dallas, as their firm name appeared in the Nov. 9, 2005, minutes of a Dallas City Council meeting. Not too helpful, but at least the stakes for Ms. Perez have been kicked up a notch to legal action.

I have a feeling this will be an ongoing saga as I continue to receive phone calls from various businesses, law firms and debt collection services for Gloria Perez. As annoying as the calls are (especially when they're only recorded messages), I'll admit it's been a rather fun mystery thus far.

Stop harassing phone calls from creditors

2006-10-28T11:05:00.000-05:00

I had my phone number changed recently to a local number. As the old number went away, I thought about who would get that number some day. I wondered if they would ever get calls from companies or salespeople asking for me. I didn't even cross my mind to wonder who's number I was getting now. At least until the calls started coming in. Just hours after changing my number, when only about 4 people knew the new one, I received a recorded message from what sounded like a law firm asking me to call this number for information. I, of course, did not. I've since received the same call almost every day but have yet to answer again. This morning, I received a recorded message from Hollywood Video alerting me that I had outstanding items on my account. Nevermind that I don't have an account with Hollywood Video. But apparently, the former owner of this phone number did.

Side note to all recorded messages: You're making this very difficult on me. If I had received a call from a live person from either of these numbers, I could have easily explained that the person they were trying to reach no longer uses this phone number and to remove it from their list. As it stands now, I would have to call them back, waste my cell phone minutes, to correct someone else's mistake. I won't do it.

I have to wonder just whose number I inherited. Why do I receive phone calls from what sounds like a law firm? What movie did they check out and not return? Why did they change phone numbers? Probably to dodge annoying phone calls, only to leave them to me. Thanks a lot, random person. Thanks a lot.

Tech support needs some tech support

2006-10-06T13:40:00.000-05:00

My phone rang this morning. First I noticed it was an Abilene number. Then I noticed it was coming from an on-campus phone line. I answered. An awkward sounding student "Hello, this is [insert name I forgot] with Team 55." He knew my name and asked if that's who was speaking. Then, he asked if I recently put in a request for help because I was having trouble connecting to FastWeb, or something like that. Now, I don't even know for sure what FastWeb is. I can only assume it has something to do with the campus network. I wanted to say, "Why, yes. Come to think of it, I have been having a lot of trouble connecting to the campus network ever since I graduated and moved to Corpus Christi. Y'all really need to expand the campus network so I can connect seven hours away." But I didn't. I was nice, said I had graduated and it wasn't me who made the request. He said it must've been someone else with my name. Yea, I guess so.

Interstellar introspection

2006-10-01T00:57:00.000-05:00

First, they decide Pluto is not a planet, now this:

Software Changes Armstrong's Moon Quote

Now, granted, I'm a word person. So the fact that fact that Neil Armstrong's grammar makes the news makes me happy. But I've also been a bit of a space enthusiast since a very young age. I can remember using several research opportunities in school to do something about space or the space program. So to find out now that the quote that every school child learns could have been wrong for 37 years is a little disappointing.

I'd say this is two pretty major space-related revelations in a month. Like so many other things, maybe these also tend to come in threes, so I'm holding my breath to see what we find out next. Maybe Yuri Gagarin wasn't the first man in space. Maybe the moon really is made of cheese. I'm holding on to hope for a different moon revelation though, when we'll find out that the man in the moon -- the faint outline of a person's face seen on the moon from Earth -- is not a phenomenon created by the hills and valleys of the surface of the moon, but is in fact an actual man.

Stalked

2006-09-24T01:46:00.000-05:00

I logged on to the actual my.ACU Web site a few days ago for the first time in a month or two. As it has several times during the past four years, it wanted me to confirm my mailing address that they have on record for me. This is nothing unusual; the school has had my home address in Tyler in its system for quite some time. Except, it didn't bring up my family's address in Tyler. ACU's system already had my address in Corpus Christi -- the address I have lived at for less than one month. At no time during the past month have I ever updated my records with ACU. There is no escaping this school. Not that I particularly want to cut off all contact with my alma mater, but it doesn't appear that that choice is even mine to begin with. Once you're on the list, there's no hiding.

Who knew ACU had a bigger network of information gathering intelligence than the CIA (too bad I don't have any friends who work for this agency to find out how this is possible ... )?

Crashing the critics' party

2006-03-05T22:32:00.000-06:00

Going into the evening, I had absolutely no intention of watching this year's Academy Awards (and certainly not devoting one of my precious few blog post to them). No films I felt particularly attached to. A host I'm not particularly a fan of. But channeel surfing produced nothing better, so I embarked on the three-and-a-half-hour odyssey with the rest of America. I tried to tear away by some impromptu channel surfing throughout the show, but it seemed no other network was interested in competing with ABC tonight, so I was there for every video montage, foreign language film and live short action film.

I did find one way to entertain myself: Root for every underdog and film or person that critics didn't pick to win. Call it my protest of all those people who make me feel bad for going to see or enjoying a movie they didn't put their stamp of approval on. You see, film critics and I have a bit of a rocky relationship. There are those that I feel really want to inform people about the art they care deeply about. Those critics I can respect, even if I don't agree with their words. Then there are those critics — a great many of them — who seem to despise the people they're writing to. The ones who like to constantly remind us we are dumb and uneducated for enjoying a film that they did not endorse. The ones who believe their is only one good taste in film — theirs. It makes me wonder. Why do we listen to a few people tell us what is good or entertaining or quality in an art so subjective as film?

Not that I can't empathize with how the critic feels. It's the same way when I pick up a newspaper or watch a newscast on TV. I can't just enjoy them. I pick them apart — from their design to their use of quotations. Outsiders look at me strange if I go off on a diatribe about poor writing or design. They don't notice the subtleties of the use of a dominant element. So I understand perfectly well the feelings going on inside the critics head. But then again, I don't devote several hundred words in my next column telling every reader why they shouldn't read a certain newspaper or how thousands of dollars was wasted on the production of a certain poorly designed front page.

After all, it's hard being the expert among the masses of the uneducated. Having to listen to people talk about a process they know very little about. Listening to everyone else praise something you know was technically flawed. But the questions stands: Why not just let the masses enjoy it? Whether it's a newspaper or a movie, just because it doesn't live up to the expectations of the experts doesn't mean no one else should be able to enjoy it.

So I'll make a deal with you, film critics. You go on reviewing the art that you care so much about. But let me enjoy it, too. Don't make me feel bad for enjoying Crash or thinking that it was a good movie. Don't make me feel uncultured or out of touch for not rushing out to see Brokeback Mountain. Don't look down on me for spending $7.50 to see a popular but poorly reviewed summer blockbuster.

The arts are mine too — even if I don't know a thing about them.

And the winner is ...

2006-02-06T20:26:00.000-06:00

Congratulations to Lori Bredemeyer for officially winning the "First to write a comment on one of my new posts" contest. Lori posted approximately 2.5 days after my first initial post. Unfortunately, because of the blogspot spam going around these past few months, my account settings were changed so I had to approve any new comments — only I was never notified of having received new comments. So a couple commenters had claimed victory by the time I figured out how to approve comments, but Lori beat out the anonymous poster by several days. Now, some people might call it creepy for someone to regularly checking a blog that was left unchanged for almost six months. I am certainly not one of these people, so Lori wins her very own copy of the legendary Homecoming 2005 issue of the Optimist. All prizes can be claimed by the winner at the Optimist office, Room 308 of the Don Morris Center. Thanks for playing.

You All Everybody

2006-02-05T21:47:00.000-06:00

Could there have been a worse miscalculation by a company during the Super Bowl than for Pepsi to create the tagline “Brown and bubbly” for Diet Pepsi?

Seriously, what positive connotations come when utilizing the word “brown” to describe a beverage? That wouldn’t even be a good description for a beer. Pepsi must not have conducted much market research for this one, and if they did, I want to know who thought “brown and bubbly” was a good idea.

Pepsi couldn’t have picked a better year for a dud, however. There wasn’t really one commercial played during the game that sticks out in my mind now. Millions of dollars down the drain.

In what could have been the most amazing piece of cross-promotion for a network television station, ABC should have had the fictional band Driveshaft doing the Super Bowl halftime show. Driveshaft, Dominic Monaghan’s character Charlie’s band from the show Lost, could have led the world in a few rousing choruses of “You All Everybody.” Nothing against The Rolling Stones, but ABC should have seized this opportunity to promote its biggest show on the biggest stage in the world.

No winner yet in the "First to write a comment on one of my new posts" contest. I anticipated that it might take an entire month. We'll see if you people even outdo my expectations.

Only five months after you stopped checking ...

2006-01-29T01:42:00.000-06:00

One week short of six months without an update. Impressive, even by my standards of updating futility. In commemoration of this rechristening of the blog, I thought it'd be interesting to see how long it takes for someone to actually check here and see if something new is posted. So, as soon as you see this, leave some sort of comment. A fabulous prize could be awaiting you. Although if you have something like RSS updates that alert you when something new on a blog has been posted, you'll have to be disqualified because that just doesn't really tell me anything about your blog-checking dedication.

I guess the biggest news to bring to you all now is that there is a new living thing about to take residence in my room of my apartment.

Yes, I'm going to have a bonsai tree. Or at least one that looks something like that after a while. Get back to me on that in five years or so. As we speak, I have a pine seed stratifying in the refrigerator to simulate the winter season, and supposedly in a week or so it'll be ready to plant. It might be destined for failure, but what child born in the '80s who saw The Karate Kid hasn't wanted their own bonsai tree at some point in life. If I had made one of those "50 Things I Want to Do Before I Die" lists, this undoubtedly would have been on there.

And not to be outdone by my true blogging enthusiast friends out there, I had to include the results from this quiz I took. Strange combination of percentages and labels, but at least no one can accuse me of waffling in the middle on most of these categories.

You scored as Republican. <'Imunimaginative's Deviantart Page'>

Anarchism

92%

Republican

92%

Socialist

33%

Fascism

17%

Democrat

17%

Communism

Nazi

Green

What Political Party Do Your Beliefs Put You In?
created with QuizFarm.com

From the far reaches of the United States ...

2005-08-05T13:07:00.000-05:00

And for my final blog from the confines of Miami, I thought a reflection on the most important things I’ve learned this summer might be in order. And since I’ve spent the whole summer editing clichés out of writing (actually I’ve been doing that since I got into journalism), I thought what better way to enjoy my one week of summer vacation than to organize this list in one of the most cliché ways possible: a Top 10 list. And without further adieu, the Top 10 things I learned in a far corner of the United States:

10. A trunkfull of belongings will expand to exactly fill whatever space it is supposed to occupy—whether it’s the trunk, an entire three-bedroom house or one bedroom.

9. An entire day worth of sports that get its own story can be summed up in 15 inches of text with one headline.

8. I still don’t know a thing about auto racing, even after a summer of editing stories and putting together roundups of the day’s auto racing news, and I will never see the fascination with it.

7. Perhaps my whole navigational deficiency is a mental block in Abilene because I managed to navigate around my basic areas in Miami with almost no trouble except my first encounter with Florida toll ways, which put me into work more than half an hour late.

6. Tropical storm force winds and rain aren’t anything to get concerned over, but the mosquitoes that appear on the first hot, humid day after the tropical storm rain can carry you away.

5. 1983 computer technology can still function well in 2005 and even have advantages over other methods of putting together a newspaper.

4. Dial-up Internet is an unfortunate inconvenience. Phasing out the 28.8k and 56k modem was as important a step in this world as the end of nuclear proliferation between the United States and Russia.

3. There is proof that I could in fact be closer to the age of 42 than 22. On any given day during my 1.5-2 hours of driving to and from work, I was just as likely to listen to talk radio as I was my CD player.

2. And if I am in fact closer to 42, there is hope. Men in their late 30s and 40s still quote Celebrity Jeopardy and find it hilarious.

And the No. 1 thing I learned in a far corner of the United States:

1. Once thought simply to be simply an Abilene and Tyler phenomenon, I discovered that I belong somewhere in the center of the strange news universe.

I’m not sure there could be any more important things to learn than those. Thanks folks. I’m out. I’ll see you after a short 20-hour drive if you’re in Tyler or another 4.5-hour drive if you’re in Abilene.

Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things ...

2005-07-30T01:54:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week, I had the full intention of writing an entire blog entry about the shuttle launch I went to Tuesday, but then …

Unbeknownst to those of us in the newsroom on the fifth floor, The Herald was becoming part of that day’s top story, but news like this travels fast. Within a few minutes, you could see a few workers walking around hurriedly. One of them stopped by the sports department and said something softly to our copy desk chief.

“Art Teele just committed suicide in our lobby?”

It was shocking news to be sure, but the name didn’t mean much to me in that moment. Others seemed to know who it was immediately—perhaps a Herald employee? But it only took a few minutes for the story for the story to reach the television news desk, and it was clear that this was no simple Herald employee.

Art Teele, former city commissioner of Miami. Art Teele, indicted just two weeks before on fraud conspiracy and money laundering. Art Teele, the subject off an article from the Miami New Times that morning that detailed his alleged dealings with drugs and prostitutes.

Teele kills self in Herald lobby

Breaking news situations in newsrooms are an interesting phenomenon. Being news people, we are all interested and want to watch the news as it comes. But the newspaper’s deadline does not wait, and especially for those of us in sports and other sections who wouldn’t be directly affected by the coverage, our work just has to continue.

Photos were uploaded on our system soon after from our photographer who was at the scene, and some were asked to weigh in on which would be fit for the front page. Some weren’t fit to appear anywhere.

Perhaps it disturbed me a little that the pictures didn’t disturb me much at first glance. I certainly have seen things much more graphic in the movies. But the cameras down there weren’t shooting a movie. The pool of blood was real as was the man lying in it just 60 or so feet beneath my feet. And when you have to go through that whole thought process just to be disturbed by what you’re looking at, you can’t help but question just how callous you’ve become.

Wednesday was a far cry from Tuesday. Wednesday saw a man who likely felt he had only one thing left he could control, a man who had run out of hope. Tuesday, thousands converged on Titusville and Cape Canaveral filled with hope. At 10:39 a.m., we were all rewarded with the launch of the first space shuttle since Feb. 1, 2003, when the shuttle Columbia blew up over Texas. It was quite a reward, a good thing too, considering what some of us did to be able to see it.

Titusville is about halfway up the state—a solid 3.5-hour drive from Miami. I had to work Monday night until 12:45, and since driving home to sleep a couple of hours would have added 1.5 hours to the round trip, I left straight from work. I don’t normally go to bed until between 2 and 3 a.m. anyway, so staying up that late wasn’t unusual.

The plan was to arrive in Titusville, sleep a few hours and then watch the launch. However, when I arrived at Space View Park at 4:45 a.m., a few people had already begun staking out their front row seats, so I decided to join them. Space View Park is about as close as you can get for an unobstructed view of the launch unless you are actually on Kennedy Space Center property. Even at 10 miles away, I could see the launch pad all lit up in the darkness, as I’m sure they were making preparations even at that hour.

I had hoped to doze a bit while sitting by the water’s edge in the darkness, but as more people started to arrive that became impossible. People started to fill in around me, and by the time the sun began to rise, most of the front row seats had gone.

People kept arriving until launch time, and some estimates said that there were 1,000 some odd people at the park—most of which were behind me and the others that had arrived early, early. There were photographers, videographers and reporters all over the place interviewing some of the people around me. As it got hotter, people began to get testy, arguing about who had moved over into whose spot and whatnot. But as the countdown started, all of that stopped, as people alternated between counting down with the clock holding their breaths in hopes that nothing would go wrong.

It happened a lot more quickly than I had imagined or had seen in movies about launches. And because light travels much more quickly than sound, we didn’t hear the blast until almost a minute after it happened.

I didn’t have much time to hang around. After a few minutes, the shuttle looked like nothing more than a star, and I had to leave. After all, I was due back at The Herald to work that night. It took a long time to get out of Titusville, and by noon I really began to feel the effects of staying up all night. But I made it back home just in time to take a shower, make a dinner, and leave again to make it to work just in time.

Work that night wasn’t as bad as I had expected. I wasn’t so much sleepy as I was just plain worn out. Of course, I it was one of those nights that I couldn’t get off early, so I worked past 1 a.m. But I got home well enough and got to sleep—40 hours after I had last woken up. But it was worth it. It was worth it to see so many people collectively excited and hopeful as half a million gallons on liquid hydrogen fuel blasted a $2 million project into space. It was worth it to be a part of that story only a day before I was part of a completely different story that no one would wish to be a part of.

Dennis the Menace

2005-07-08T15:27:00.000-05:00

When you work at a company throughout an entire year, you might have a couple of weeks of vacation time to use. When you work for 10 weeks as a summer intern, you might be lucky to get a long weekend. That was the first of this week for me. Three off days sandwiched around July 4^th, which they gave me off as a holiday.

July 4^th on Miami Beach was a lot of fun, and I think I broke my record for distance walked barefoot in a five-hour period. There were some good fireworks, and the best part about them was the sheer number of fireworks because every few hundred feet down the entire beach there was someone else orchestrating their own personal show. After walking down the beach for an hour or so I found a decent enough spot to sit down and watch for a while. Down the beach in either direction all I could see was sand, water, people and fireworks. I’ve always said that the beach is a great place to witness human stupidity in action, so putting fire and exploding products in those people’s hands could be disastrous. I’m quite sure that at least one of the people I saw shooting fireworks left that beach without any eyebrows.

For my last two days off I drove down to Key West where I enjoyed the beach, clear blue and green water and the southernmost point in the continental United States. I got in the water for a while, but the signs that read, “Warning, Portuguese man of war could be present in these waters” just didn’t inspire much of a desire to swim for too long.

It appears I missed my first hurricane evacuation by only 24 hours. Hurricane Dennis, the first official hurricane of the season, is expected to hit the Florida Keys during the next 24 hours. As such, they ordered the evacuation of all tourists and nonresidents Thursday. All that is predicted for Miami is a lot of rain because the hurricane was supposed to go right up the western coast of the state and actually make landfall around Alabama. We’re under a tropical storm watch, so there will certainly be a lot of rain and some gusty wind much of Saturday.

House guest

2005-06-22T13:03:00.000-05:00

In and around Miami there are dozens of places are dedicated for people to come to so they can see all kinds of wildlife. I’m thinking about opening my own park in my backyard. Oh, I’m sure there’s the usual fare for most South Florida homes near water: ducks, egrets, mosquitoes. But yesterday, wandering around in my backyard was some iguana-like creature. Based on the pictures I've looked up online so far, I'm fairly sure it was an iguana. He was pretty docile, just walking around snacking on grass mostly, and he let me walk around him to take pictures. But when I got a little too close once he took off running toward the water and dove in and swam off somewhere. Today, another iguana-like creature was back. I'm pretty sure it was a different one because he was a different color and his markings were different.

Anyway, short post today, but it's better than what I normally do--not updating for weeks at a time.

Miami Vice

2005-06-04T18:31:00.001-05:00

And the first week has passed.

Work at The Miami Herald has gone well. The computer system we use here looks something like you might run on an old DOS operating system, and it's full of all sorts of keyboard commands that I haven't quite mastered. I'm signed up for a training session on the system next week, but some of the copy editors have already worked with me on figuring the most important things out. My first day, they just had me observe, play around on the system learning for myself and reading proofs as they were printed. Friday, my third day, I was finally assigned a couple of stories to edit. It was slow going still trying to figure out the system, but I got them done.

As for my second day, well, I probably wasn't going to be too useful yet anyway, so I was sent with the reporters to Game 5 of the Eastern Conference finals with the Miami Heat vs. the Detroit Pistons. We watched the game from about halfway up in the first level and then walked around in the bowels of the arena where the press conference rooms, locker rooms and media rooms are. After watching the postgame press conference with the coachers and some players, I went back to the newsroom to see it all get put together. I know, a really tough day. It's funny--you might think that the sports people would be all excited about getting to cover the Heat while they make their playoff run, but quite a few of them dread playoff game nights because of all the extra work and money that have to go into putting out the special coverage.

A typical shift is from 5 p.m. to 1 a.m., and I just plan for it to take me an hour to get to and from work. It's been a bit strange getting used to my free time being from 10 a.m. (about the time I've been waking up) to 4 p.m. But, if I'm going to live in a beach town, there's really no better time to have free time than the middle of the day. And it appears my off days will fluctuate from week to week. My first weekend is Saturday and Sunday--I don't know how a first-week intern managed to actually get a real weekend off. Then I go back to work two days and am off Wednesday and Thursday. Then, I'm off Tuesday and Thursday. So I guess it'll just be a surprise each week.

Miami itself has been an exciting place to be so far. It's been particularly rainy the last few days, but the sun truly came out for several hours this afternoon, so … a trip to the beach was in order for my first weekend then. With my dad and sister here until today, we've done quite a few of the touristy things like walking around South Beach and driving through the Everglades. At the Everglades, I got to stand just feet away from I think six alligators with not much in between us, so that was pretty exciting.

And I couldn't ask for anything better as far as accommodations go. A man at the Sunset Church of Christ here in Miami offered to let me stay in a three-bedroom house all to myself. He's housing a missionary family here beginning mid-July, so I'll be moving into an extra room in his house for my last three weeks or so, but until then, I've got this place to myself. I've posted pictures of it on my account at www.shutterfly.com (if you want to see them and can't remember my login name and password, just ask me and I'll give it to you instead of posting it on here), but just to give you a taste, here's basically what I have to deal with:

Not a bad deal if you ask me.

My address for the summer if you are interested will be:

14051 SW 74th Terrace
Miami, FL 33183

Even when I move to the other house, which is just next door, I think I'll probably still pick up my mail at this address should I get any.

As for my Internet capabilities throughout the summer, I can use it some at work, but I don't really do that unless it's before work starts or after it finishes. I don't have any access at the house, so I'm using this Internet cafe-type place near my house for the time being. Actually it's more like a place where lots of foul-mouthed 15-year-olds have their parents drop them off so they can play online games and feel like they have done something worthwhile with their lives. Between the cafe and my off times at work, I should have enough access to check and send e-mails regularly as well as update this thing when I have something interesting to say.

Things look to pick up during week 2. I'll know more of what I'm doing, so I guess I can expect a full workload for the most part. It's definitely looking like it's going to be a good summer though. We shall see.

4 8 15 16 23 42

2005-05-28T01:24:00.000-05:00

Well, Nebraska, what can I say about you? As forsaken as that state sounds, it actually wasn’t too bad. I mean, at least they had a Buffalo Wild Wings and I was there with 12 other people who were at least almost as interested in sports and journalism as me. All in all, it was a very nice way to ease into a summer full of sitting in front of a computer screen editing stories for The Miami Herald. And I never thought I’d say it, but Lincoln, Neb., was a nice place for this all to happen.

I’ve had a few people comment since my last post about the fact that they did not think the room I was living in on campus was too bad. Please people. There’s only so much a person can get from a picture, and smell is not one of those things. I think we just about decided that the room was used to store the track team’s uniforms during the school year before they could be laundered. It was a smell that I could get used to, and at the same time, it was a smell I was afraid to become accustomed. After five or so minutes in the room it became an odorless toxin that I was afraid would smother me while I slept. But I survived—with most brain cells in tact.

Spur of the moment thought: This is the most disorganized I’ve ever seen an airport in the limited number of times I have used them in my life. I’m sitting here in the DFW Airport during a three-hour layover while I wait for my flight to Tyler. Two flights have been moved to other gates while I’ve sat here; two flights were overbooked and the crews were looking for two or three people on each flight to volunteer to take a later flight tomorrow; one plane sat at its gate well past its departure time; and the airline decided to stop one plane for maintenance, so its passengers were put on an entirely different flight. We’ll see what adventure they have in store for me on my flight to Tyler.

Speaking of layovers, I’ll be in Tyler in a couple of hours. I’ll be in town for a grand total of 31 hours in which time I must sort through all the things I took to Nebraska, sort through the things I brought back from college and pack up my Corolla with everything I want to take to Miami for the summer. Then there’s Lindsey’s graduation and a 4 a.m. departure time Sunday so my dad and I can get well down the road on our 20-hour drive to South Florida.

I was glad to see the good, old Tyler Independent School District moving its graduation ceremony back indoors to the Oil Palace after three years under the hot May sun at Rose Stadium. I seem to remember writing an editorial about how an outdoor graduation in Texas during May was a poor choice—an editorial that made me the voice for those against this plan on a television news story. Well three years later and scores of gallons of sweat from underneath graduation robes and shirts, ties and dresses, TISD has come to its senses. Why didn’t they just let me make all the decisions?

Scrumtrulescent

2005-05-19T22:14:00.000-05:00

I should be ashamed of myself, shouldn't I? As I crept closer to day 50 without a blog post, I'm sure I should come crawling back to my adoring public, apology in hand. So, to the four of you, I'm sorry. Now, I'm done feeling bad about that.

It's a really good thing I never intended for this thing to be a running diary of the life and times of Jonathan Smith. As I think back to all that's happened over the last 50 days, I'm amazed at that it's all happened since April 1. And I would hate to feel obligated to give a blow-by-blow of the last 50 days. I mean, there was that whole Melody Townsell saga in which several popular political blogs ended up posting links to my Optimist story. My first year as Optimist editor came to a close. There was even an ongoing obsession with the Romanian rock song "Dragostea Din Tei," by O-Zone (insert four-minute break here to pull out my iPod and listen to the song ... OK, so I listened to the song twice, so that was really like eight minutes). Then I spent exactly 10 days living in the same state as my girlfriend before packing it up and heading north to the oasis that is Lincoln, Neb.

Flying into the state on Sunday, I thought my worst nightmares about Nebraska were going to be realized. Even from the air, it's a boring looking state. The roads are all constructed in a perfectly perpendicular grid. And I knew Nebraska was predominately farmland, but it looked more like scorched earth from the air. Apparently, the corn fields are pretty barren this time of year, so flying overhead, it simply looks brown and burnt.

Lincoln, itself, isn't too bad though--at least, not for someone who doesn't need a lot of entertainment venues and whatnot. There's a cheap $2 theatre near campus as well as a nicer one, and an Arby's has been built a mere one block from the dorm. I do consider myself an expert on Lincoln now--at least the part surrounding campus. I kind of accidentally went walking Monday night for about three hours. When I got back, I figured up how far I walked. It came out to something like eight miles. There can't be that much more to the city around campus.

Having spent the last three summers on three different college campuses (ACU, Georgetown and now the University of Nebraska-Lincoln), I've decided to begin a list. It will be a list of things I never want to hear ACU students complaining about again until they have experienced something different. Campus parking has probably been one of the oldest mainstays on the list, but even since being here I've discovered that some campuses charge $200 per semester for a parking permit, and they still oversell the permits so students aren't even guaranteed a spot. But perhaps the most grievous addition to the list this summer has been dorm room accommodations. Say what you want about residence hall policies and rules at ACU, but please do not let me hear you complaining about the halls themselves until you've spent significant time at dorms at other universities. I'll just let this pictures do the talking:

Now, if I were to see that, I wouldn't be too grossly appalled; afterall, the refrigerator/freezer thing is pretty cool. But if I were to see this picture, the first thing I might ask is what the rest of the room looks like from behind where I took the picture. But considering I had to stand at the back of the closet to even get this much in the viewfinder, I don't think me turning around to take a picture of a closet will would be too revealing. That's right. My back is against the farthest back wall. I did not use any amount of zoom to frame this picture. This is the entire room. Not too bad for two guys living out of one suitcase each for two weeks. But imagine spending a whole semester in this place. And these are considered the upperclassmen dorms. Nothing says good morning to your nice warm feet after just waking up in the morning than that nice cold, drab tile. I won't even get into the funk left by what I can only hope was the past inhabitants of the room. This picture doesn't show the can of air freshener we bought to combat it. So ACU underclassmen, be warned. I've lived in Mabee. I've lived in McKinzie. I've lived in Smith. All luxurious accommodations compared to this cell.

Refrigerate after opening

2005-04-01T22:22:00.000-06:00

I've got to get something off my chest that's been bothering me for quite a while. It has offended and perplexed me for a while now, and tonight just pushed me over the edge. I was going down the aisles of our United Supermarket and was in the chilled meats section. Off to the side--not in one of the refrigerated shelves--was a package of pepperonis. Now, I am of the opinion that any meat product should be refrigerated. No animal product should have so many preservatives not to warrant that. Then came that warning in small print at the bottom of the package: Refrigerate after opening.

Don't get me wrong; I'm a big fan of pepperonis, but what magical property do they contain that allows them to sit on a shelf at 72 degrees Fahrenheit for a month before the seal is broken at which time it must go directly into a refrigerator. It was not even that the pepperonis were vacuum-packed packed. Oh no, there was most definitely air in there.

So, why the charade? I could only boil it down to a couple of options. Perhaps, like a fine wine, the pepperonis simply need that time on the lukewarm shelf to cure and age to just the right spiciness. But, maybe even more likely, the warning is simply the company giving the pepperonis an illusion of mortality. Maybe "refrigerate after opening" is the subtle way to say, "Eat these before they go back, and go buy some more."

Maybe next time I make a United run I'll buy one of those packages of pepperonis. Find out what this lie is all about. And after they've sat a month on one of the store's lukewarm shelves, I'll bet they can stand another week on one of mine.

Starring Richard Dean Anderson ...

2005-03-14T19:46:00.000-06:00

Yes my friends, I am back after something like a three-week hiatus. It was really no surprise to me, however. After Sing Song and Lectureship were over, I basically shut down for a few weeks.

Spring break last week was no exception. I honestly can't think of one productive thing I did all week long. I spent the week at home in Tyler, but I didn't go with any delusions that I was actually going to work, so at least I didn't disappoint myself. I decided the theme for the week was reliving different portions of my childhood. On the drive home, I set the tone for the rest of the week by reliving some of my middle school days by listening to all the old school Christian band music I could find in my CD collection. We're talking Jesus Freak DC Talk, Flood Jars of Clay, Big House Audio Adrenaline and Shine Newsboys. I didn't go so retro as to break out any Acapella or AVB, but those days are coming, my friends.

Upon arriving home, I discovered that my father had purchased the entire first season of MacGyver on DVD. I can't think of a better spent $30. This was before Richard Dean Anderson even had anything resembling a mullet.

Pretty much the rest of the week when I wasn't sleeping or working at the church was filled in with one of the 20 episodes I watched. I think my personal favorite had to be the episode the army of millions and millions threatens a cocoa plantation until MacGyver shows up and floods the irrigation trenches, builds a flamethrower and finally breaks the dam flooding the plantation. Classic TV from the mid 80s. I've got two more episodes to watch--the last two of the season--so I'm sure there will be many of you that will want to get in on that action next time I'm home. Season 2 will be out soon enough, then the others, assuming they sell well enough. All I can say is they'd better to make it to season 7 or one of the later ones when in one episode MacGyver gets hit on the head and is knocked unconscious only to dream up this whole two-episode scenario in medieval times. Fantastic.

Word to the wise, unwise, technological or untechnological alike: Don't purchase electronic equipment that is so new that repair center A) don't know anything about it, and B) don't carry supporting accessories. Otherwise you'll end up spending $750+ on computer equipment for what you thought would be $400 tops. Now granted, some of those dollars have been refunded, and I haven't actually spent that much, but this computer seems to be a black hole that will never actually work. But, if anyone happens to have power supply with a 24-pin power connector for the motherboard, let me know.

And now, I'm back at the apartment, sitting here on our living room chair with my laptop and wireless Internet watching whatever is on TV. Yep, you'll find me here a lot over the next eight weeks.

The last thing I'll ever see ...

2005-02-21T00:32:00.000-06:00

During Sing Song and Lectureship, I actually schedule time each night not for sleep, but for sleep deprivation. So it would stand to reason that I am bound to get sick at some point during this slow destruction of my body and sleeping pattern. This year, however, things were cooking along just fine. Seemed like everyone else was getting sick and dropping, but even after an all-nighter, I maintained. Then Saturday hit.

When I arrived at the office around noon, triple cheeseburger in hand, things were normal. Then I saw the light. Quite literally in fact. I began seeing spots of light all over my line of sight. And not just off and on. All the time. Eyes open or closed. I turned out all the lights in my office and turned on the pink lava lamp on the corner of my desk. In the unnatural glow of that lava lamp I prepared for the worst, even thinking to myself, "This is it. The last thing I'm ever going to see with my eyes is the Optimist office." I don't care who you are or how much you love your job, that is a depressing thought.

After a couple of hours the light spots got better and I decided, as my body started feeling achy and weak, that maybe it was just the flu or what everyone else was coming down with. A two-hour trip to the walk-in clinic of Abilene revealed that I didn't have some rare retinal disease that would strike me blind. I didn't even have the flu just like everyone else. No, it turns out it was just time for my monthly sinus infection.

Melanie, you once said I had a tendency to get deathly ill. So maybe this wasn't deathly ill (certainly it was better than being stricken blind), but I believe you more and more each day. Next time you want to make a premonition like that, let's make it something like, "Jonathan has a tendency to win Pulitzers" or "Jonathan has a tendency to have great skills." I think that might be better.

"The First Amendment allows people to have attitudes"

2005-02-12T23:56:00.000-06:00

Well, my friends, it finally happened. I have been called out by Ben F. See. Apparently, he didn't much like the premise of my most recent column about the First Amendment (just scroll to the bottom to see his response). He didn't go so far as to condemn me or tell me to leave ACU, but I'm obviously not allowing God's law to govern my life as the "student adviser" of the Optimist.

I'm not so sure Brother See would fair much better on the First Amendment survey than the high school students I talked about in my column. Especially with his novel idea that the First Amendment now controls what attitudes people can have. I don't know which is scarier: that high school students think the First Amendment goes too far or that Brother See believes the First Amendment includes provisions for freedom of thought (or nonfreedom of thought from his point of view).

If you've got some free time on your hands, scroll through Ben's 20 other online responses to Optimist articles. That's some classic reading. Oh the joys of a devoted, yet misguided, reader. The man even inspired many lines from the second half of that column, so at least he provides me with something to write about in the paper ... and an entire post on my blog.

I'm in a glass case of emotion

2005-02-03T23:10:00.000-06:00

I like to have terms to describe certain times in my life. For example, I described this Christmas break with one word: trendy. I know, I know, three months ago trendy would have been the last word I used for any part of my life. But after three pairs of blue jeans, several long-sleeve shirts that actually fit and an iPod, I decided I had joined the trendy world.

I'm still lingering in the world of trendiness, but I think I've moved on to a new phase. I realized this coming back to school this semester and frequenting the grocery store a few times. I have become domesticated. On the same day each week I go to United. This last week at United I, for the first time, made use of the deli to buy some Swiss cheese. There's just something about using the deli instead of just buying prepackaged cheese that makes me feel like I've reached a new level of domestication. It became obvious to me a couple weeks ago when I was at Wal-Mart and I had this sudden urge to buy a mop. So I did. And I brought that mop home and opened it up with the same excitement as a kid at Christmas.

And now I'm sitting here in my apartment (with mopped floors, mind you) watching the Annenberg Learning Channel. It's some panel discussion with guys like Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, reverends, and professors of ethics and whatnot--kind of like something your professor would tape and show you in a class. Yep, domesticated is definitely the word of the times.

It's a liger ... bred for its skills in magic

2005-02-01T12:33:00.000-06:00

In anticipation of the coming snowfall, if that's what you can call it, I just checked weather.com for an hour-by-hour forecast to see when this fine mist would turn into something more significant. So I clicked on the hour-by-hour forecast and the first thing I see is the forecast for 11 p.m. on Jan. 31. Now, if it were just after noon on Jan. 31 then I might be impressed, but it's Feb. 1. I fail to see the act of faith it took for predict the weather seven and a half hours ago.

It got me thinking though. If weather.com can get so many hits predicting yesterday's weather, maybe this is something I can look into for the Optimist. I'm always trying to think about what's going to get the most hits for the Optimist Online. If weather.com can attract viewers by doing it, I'm certainly not opposed to it. So look soon for a new section for the Optimist Online: Predicting yesterday's weather today.

As I'm sure everyone waits with bated breath to see what Abilene's weather will do this afternoon and evening, I'll try my best to keep it updated on here and make this my first double-post day of my blogging career.

Are you guys having a killer time?

2005-01-25T01:05:00.000-06:00

Random musings from a random day:

I'm not exactly sure how to read this, but in perhaps my favorite Optimist typo of the year, I discovered that Jesus was either consulted about ACU's head football coaching vacancy or was actually considered for the position.

“We wanted to seek someone who had a clear understanding of what an ACU education and what an ACU student athlete experience should be like,” Mosley said. “It was very obvious to Dr. McCaleb and me and the rest of the search committee that got to visit with Christ that he brings a great love and passion for the university and what we stand for.”

Well, I guess if anyone knows what this university stands for, it's Jesus. All I can say is I hope he takes the job. Surely he could breathe some life into that offense. Although I don't know how well it would go over with rival coaches when Jesus begins changing the other team's water to wine and healing seriously injured players on the sidelines. His halftime speeches would be something to behold I'm sure.

I'm not sure what to think of this either, but earlier I began to seriously doubt my ability to stay informed and connected to society when I had to find out that my hometown preacher would be retiring at the end of February from my girlfriend Elizabeth, who is in Oxford, England. Maybe it is just a testament to the ability of news to travel through today's technology. Or maybe it's further proof of where I stand in the Shiloh/Tyler grapevine when someone six time zones away hears news before someone less than five hours away.

I was preparing to leave the Optimist office tonight, and I was feeling pretty good about our status. I actually had a front page designed and mostly prepared. We knew what we were going to do for most of our wild art pictures. I knew the status of all but one story we were planning to run. We were still waiting for features pictures to come in, but I've grown accustomed to that. Yes indeed, I left the office thinking that I had never left on a Monday or Wednesday night (on time at 11:30 mind you) in better shape. Then I realized I had locked my only set of keys in my office.

I'm quite certain I had more to write about, but I'm concerned that I just became very confused by the shadow of my desk lamp on the wall. I'm going to take that as a sign. Here's to one random day.

I caught you a delicious bass

2005-01-20T23:35:00.000-06:00

Look what happens when I actually put my blog address out there for people to see. Days go by without any new postings. I guess all the celebrity got to me. I saw my "profile views" quadruple from four to an amazing 16 during one weekend, and I guess I thought I could get lazy.

Who knew that if you didn't consistently do any physical activity for five and a half years that working out would be so hard. I've been to Powell Fitness Center to work out twice now, and I've done the arms once and the legs once. Tonight was legs for the first time, and I actually can't stand up without significant help from my arms. I think it might be better not even to go to sleep tonight because getting up to turn off my alarm in the morning after lying motionless for several hours will be nigh impossible. I guess I'll just build in a little extra time (say an hour) to become fully extended in the morning. And yes, I did actually use the word nigh earlier in a sentence.

This was a short post today, but my bed is wispering sweet nothings in my ear to heed its call. The weekend is here, and that seem to be the time I have the most opportunity to post. So look back soon if I haven't scared or bored you away by now.

Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills

2005-01-16T23:42:00.000-06:00

It was brought to my attention that my mind apparently works something like the great Jerry Seinfeld—at least my feelings about Extra Strength Tylenol (see blog post from Jan. 15). Although I know not what Miss Knox was referring to yesterday, apparently Mr. Seinfeld had the idea first. I'll swallow my pride and pledge 2 percent of all that I earn from that blog post as royalties to Mr. Seinfeld.

And in what could be the picture of the year, here is Dance Party 2005 at the apartment during Justin's birthday. After Justin began an impromptu screening of his Phish DVD, I made my way out of my room to find this going on:

Before ACU officials become concerned with what you see here, you should notice that this is about as ACU appropriate as a dance party can get. Note the 3-4 feet of space between all bodies in the room, and if you'll look closely you will notice that the majority of the movement is from the waist up. Nothing scandalous here.

I wore khaki pants today for the first time in a good two and a half weeks. It's amazing how quickly I became unaccustomed to them. It was a bit like going back and visiting with all your old high school friends. You think about how good it will be to see all these people you grew up with, but when you get there you realize that you've moved on to other things. The little time you spend with them might be nice reminiscing about how things used to be, but by the end you're ready to go back to all the new things you've come to know. So yea, my khakis are a bit like old high school friends. I think I'll stick with jeans for now, and throw in the occasional khakis on the weekends to mix it up a little bit.

It's a metaphor ... but that really happened

2005-01-15T01:23:00.000-06:00

I wasn't lying when I said I wouldn't post on here for weeks on end. There's a good reason I haven't actually put the URL out there for people to see yet.

I decided yesterday that the best thing for me right now settling into this new semester is a little consistency. What better way to ring in a little consistency than: 1) an allergic reaction in my eye that the doctor described as bubbly; 2) being dropped from my family's insurance; and 3) having my hard drive crash for the second time since this summer. At this rate, I might have finally achieved some consistency just in time for Sing Song to begin.

So while I was in CVS today waiting for my prescription, I wandered around looking at all the different medicines. I ended up on the pain killer aisle, and I just had to ask myself: When are we going to stop calling it Extra Strength Tylenol? l don't know that I've ever seen regular strength Tylenol, and even then why would you take it when there's extra strength to be had? I think the time has come to shed the useless labels.

I have arrived

2004-12-18T16:30:00.000-06:00

I have held out for as long as I could. As much time as I spend at a computer, however, the end result was inevitable. I am now the proud owner of my very own blog.

I always said that if I ever got one, it would end up collecting cobwebs for weeks at a time, and knowing some of my friends' aversion to spiders, that would significantly cut down on my potential readership. The blog still will most likely sit undisturbed for weeks. The ironic part is whenever I actually have time to post something will be the times when absolutely nothing is happening in my life. Much like now; about all I've accomplished in my six hours of consciousness is creating this blog.

So why create a blog? So all of you can read my profound thoughts? Nah, I can't forsee much of that here. To keep you all updated with the daily happening in my life? Please, as long as there's the Optimist, my days will pretty much be the same. Maybe it will be just to keep myself entertained--something to do when I really should be something else. In fact, that will probably be the best way to tell how busy I am. The number of posts I make will probably be directly proportional to the amount of work I should be doing. Look for posts every hour come Sing Song time in Abilene.

I think I want to be done. So much for a profound statement of purpose. Seeing as it is Christmas break and I have nothing to do, I can't guarantee I'll post all that frequently. Find me things to do, and I might find reasons to post.