Turn Out The Lights

Back in the day, when men were men and quarterbacks didn't wear dresses, giants stalked the earth.

Rugged, tough, manly men like Bart Starr, Sonny Jurgensen, Roman Gabriel, Y.A. Title, and Billy Kilmer swaggered their way around the gridiron. Among the toughest of these was an East Texas boy. 

I grew up watching Don Meridith play quarterback. He was a high school legend - All State in both football and basketball at Mt. Vernon, TX. Later, in college, back when SMU was a football powerhouse (it was known as Southern Meredith University when he played there), he was a two-time All American. Finally, as the quarterback for America's Team, he was an All Pro and NFL Player of the Year.

Many people forget, but in the early years (the 1960s) the Cowboys were an expansion team. In the beginning, they were pathetic. As a young player, Meredith alternated snaps with Eddie LeBaron - not one of Tom Landry's better innovations. After a couple of years he became the full-time quarterback. Unfortunately, back then the Cowboys offensive line was as porous as obama's national defense plans. Meredith got the snot knocked out of him.



Ben Roethlisberger has received a lot of positive press yesterday for playing with a broken nose and a sprained foot. No argument - he deserves it. But Meredith played with multiple broken noses, a broken ankle, fractured ribs, a punctured lung, and pneumonia, among other ailments. He was one tough SOB.

He was also a natural leader, with a good ol' boy demeanor and sense of humor that endeared him to his teammates.



After his playing career was over he became one of the first football jocks to make a successful transition from the field to the broadcast booth. He helped make Monday Night Football a resounding success by kicking Howard Cosell's ass on a regular basis. (For those of you too young to remember, MNF was initially (a) an experiment that no one knew how it would turn out, and (b) a cultural happening that changed Monday nights forever - at least for the first few years. It's hard to explain, back in the early days of cable and before Thursday and Saturday NFL games, how meaningful MNF games were.)

Despite his public persona, Meredith was at heart a shy, introverted, and complex individual. He had a brief acting career, but then retired to a reclusive existence in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Turn out the lights, Don. R.I.P.

Tangled

Our 14 year old daughter and I went to see Tangled this afternoon. Given my work situation and schedule, we don't get to spend a lot of time together, so today I was happy to give up some football for a little father-daughter bonding time.

For those of you not familiar with the movie, it's the Disney version of the Rapunzel fairy tale. It's a well done film - great animation and production values, good story line, a couple of nice plot twists - the whole enchilada.

Without giving away too much, it's a coming of age story. A teen-aged girl who has spent her whole life in a tower suddenly gets out into the world. It has everything - adventure, comedy, betrayal, heartbreak, the aforementioned plot twists, and of course the requisite happy ending. I could have done without a couple of the songs, but overall it's a very good movie. I highly recommend it - two thumbs up.

However, the point of this post is not to do a Siskel and Ebert imitation. As 'the girl' sat there happily munching on popcorn and slurping her drink, I was struck by the parallels between the movie and where she is in her life's journey. Sometimes when I look at her I see the beautiful, self-confident, resourceful woman she's going to be. Other times I see the awestruck little girl she used to be, gazing in wonderment at all the new and exciting things in this great big wonderful world. I can handle either one of those versions. But I'm woefully ill-equipped to deal with her at this in-between stage.

I have no experience with daughters. I have an older son from a previous marriage, plus a first-born son from my current marriage. My sister has two boys. My wife's sister has three boys. No one in our family knows what to do with a girl.

With boys, it's like a Wild Kingdom video. As soon as they begin to challenge the alpha male (that would be me) they're booted out of the nest to fend for themselves. But with a girl, I alternate between screening her friends with a thoroughness that makes TSA employees look like slackers, and cowering in a corner while she reads me the riot act.

"Daddy, I'm not a child anymore!"

Well, actually, yes you are, and you always will be to me. The challenge is (1) for me to deal with the fact that she is metamorphosing from my little girl to a strong, independent woman, and (2) to hide from her the fact that I'm totally incapable of (1).

Have you ever seen Taken...?

Sunday Funnies

If you live in an area where there is substantial snowfall, remember to roll up your windows.

A husband and his wife were sitting down with their morning cups of coffee when the weather report came on the radio.

"There will be 3 to 5 inches of snow today," the announcer said. "You must park your cars on the odd-numbered sides of the street."

The wife got up, mumbled something about "Damn snow," and headed outside.

The next morning the forecast was for another 4 inches of snow. The radio announcer instructed everyone to park on the even-numbered sides of the street so the snow plows could do their job. The wife shook her head, grumbled, and stomped outside.

For the third day in a row several inches of snow fell. The radio announcer was in the middle of saying "Park your cars on the - ." Right then the power went out.

The wife said, "Oh great. Now what am I supposed to do?"

Without looking up from his paper the husband said, "Why don't you just leave the car in the garage today?"

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my father's 93rd birthday. We had a small get-together of family and friends at our place.

Dad is Polish. He's the only one of thirteen kids born in the U.S. The remainder were born in the Old Country.

It's always amazing to hear his stories. About half of his siblings died in the Influenza Epidemic of 1918.

Dad's father was a coal miner in western PA. His mother was a homemaker. They couldn't afford to support all their kids, so Dad was apprenticed out to a doctor's family when he was 12. He took care of the doctor's horse and drove him in a horse-and-buggy when the doctor went on his house calls (!). He left the doctor when he was 16 and lied about his age to join the old CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps).

In the late 1930s he joined the Army. After landing at Normandy and then rolling across Europe with Patton's Third Army, he was wounded at the Battle of the Bulge. He recovered and went on to transfer into the old Army Air Corps, which later became the U.S. Air Force. He retired as a Chief Master Sergeant. 

In honor of our heritage, today's meal consisted of two types of Polish sausage from Redlinski's Meat Market in Buffalo, NY. Side dishes were pierogis from Polana Foods in Chicago, homemade sauerkraut, German potato salad (with bacon, of course), and good ol' HEB organic applesauce. Dessert was a Mexican Chocolate Cake (family recipe). 

Oh yeah, we also had some beer, wine, and champagne.

Dad's doctor would have a fit if he knew what he ate today, but I figured that if the Great Depression, WW II, Korea, and Viet Nam, plus a couple of strokes, didn't kill him, a few sausages, some drinks, and a hunk of cake wouldn't do any harm.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for being the man you are, and for passing so much on to me.

Friday Follies Happy Hour

It's been a long semester, but it's mercifully over (almost). So today we're celebrating Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happy Hour.



Cold beer and hot wings - sounds pretty damn good about now...

End Of The Semester Blues

I taught my last class of the semester this afternoon. (I still have a couple of finals to give, but they don't count since they're already prepared, and grading won't be too difficult because the classes are relatively small.)

Usually this is a cause for celebration, but for some reason I feel mildly depressed. Perhaps this is due to a vague sense of disappointment. Classes and semesters are like people. They have their own personalities, and each one is different. Some are pleasant, some are challenging, some are inspirational, but I've never had one this discouraging. Nothing confrontational, nothing outstandingly negative, just a lingering feeling of disconnectedness. I felt like never I really reached the kids.

They came to class for the most part, they did okay on assignments, projects, and exams, but there was no spark, no motivation - just an overwhelming atmosphere of ennui (a fancy french word that means a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction that comes from having too much time on one's hands and too little will to find something productive to do).

Maybe next semester I need to change my teaching style...

Slow Grind

The wheels of justice grind exceedingly slow, but sometimes they do grind.

The judge in the Petit home invasion and murder case has agreed with the jury's recommendation and sentenced one of the sick fucks involved to death. The other will be tried a few months from now.

Steven Hayes, convicted of a brutal 2007 home invasion in which a Connecticut mother and her two daughters were killed, was sentenced Thursday to die for the crime.

In a strong and clear voice, the judge sentences Hayes to death on each of the six capital felonies.

"This is a terrible sentence. But in truth it is a sentence you wrote for yourself in flames on July 23, 2007 . . . your fate is now in the hands of others. May God have mercy on your soul."

A jury found Hayes guilty of killing Jennifer Hawke-Petit, 48, and her daughters - 7-year-old Hayley Petit and 11-year-old Michaela Petit - in their Cheshire, Connecticut, home in 2007.

It recommended that Hayes, 47, should die for his role in the deaths.

"The impact of these crimes against our family is like the impact of a bomb going off in your house . . ." William Petit, who survived the crime said. "I awoke to a confused terror . . . I'll always remember my father's face when I asked about the girls, and he just shook his head fro side to side and sobbed . . . Our home was no more . . ."

Hayes' lawyer, Thomas Ullman, said he was not surprised by the jury's decision - and that Hayes was actually pleased with the outcome.

Hayes isn't the only one pleased with the outcome. I for one am overjoyed.  

"He wants to die," said Ullman last month. "He has categorized this process as suicide by state. He was unable to kill himself in prison and saw this as a way for the state to kill him."

Just turn him loose in the general population and he'll get his wish about dying in prison.

The only problem is that this POS will stay alive, costing taxpayers hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars while the automatic appeals process plays itself out.

Prosecutors alleged Hayes and co-defendant Joshua Komisarjevsky invaded the home of Dr. William Petit on July 23, 2007, beat and tied up Petit, raped and strangled Hawke-Petit, molested one of their daughters and set the house on fire before attempting to flee.

This bare-bones recital of what took place that night doesn't do justice to the horrific nature of the events, or the unendurable impact that they have had on surviving family members and friends. I've posted before about this crime. It disgusts and sickens me.

I just can't imagine what the Petit family went through. Your home is supposed to be a sanctuary, a haven, a place to go where you are safe and in the presence of loved ones. To have it violated in such a manner - well, words fail me.

All I can say is Burn, Baby, Burn...

Sick, Sick People

I've spent much of the day grading end-of-semester projects, a sometimes gratifying, sometimes depressing exercise. Today was depressing.

It appears that, despite my best efforts, the students actually got dumber rather than smarter over the past three months. I guess all that Four Loko is killing off their brain cells faster than I can educate them.

Anyway, I took a break and indulged in some Internet bottom-feeding. I eventually ended up at The Smoking Gun and without even trying confirmed that there are some sick, sick people out there.

Walmart Pleasure Seeker Barred From Retail Giant

The Florida man arrested after he was caught masturbating in the toy aisle of a Walmart with the aid of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue has cut a plea deal that bars him from future visits to the retail giant “or any store where children’s toys are sold,” court records show.

The deal spares Black, who spent a month in custody following his September 14 arrest, further jail time. The conviction, though, will likely have a negative impact on Black’s career as a substitute teacher. 

Gee, ya think?

When confronted by cops, Black admitted that he had been masturbating in the store’s toy aisle, claiming that he was driven to the lewd act after he spotted “some pretty girls which made him aroused.” He told officers that he “grabbed a magazine and then found a back aisle and began to masturbate until he relieved himself on the floor.”

The magazine he selected was the 2010 Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue featuring model Brooklyn Decker on its cover.

Well, I can't fault him for his taste.

A Walmart worker told investigators that Black “ejaculated onto the floor and wiped his hand on a toy along with rubbing his foot in the suspected semen on the floor.” He then “discarded the magazine behind some toys and proceeded to the front of the store,” employees reported. The defiled toy was a lightsaber (apparently of the "Star Wars" variety), according to a law enforcement source.

Is there any other kind of light saber besides the Star Wars variety?

Black--who claimed he was shopping for a toy for his daughter--assured arresting officers that, “I swear I’m not a pervert.”

Yeah, and I'm often mistaken for a young Sean Connery.

As if defiling a Star Wars light saber wasn't bad enough, another prev evidently prefers Harry Potter.

Man Arrested For Pleasuring Self During New "Harry Potter" Movie

What kind of a guy exposes himself and touches his genitals during a screening of the new Harry Potter movie?

Meet Alexander Ofner.

The South Carolina man, 39, was arrested yesterday afternoon at Sea Turtle Cinemas after Bluffton Police Department officers responded to a 911 call about Ofner’s alleged indecent exposure. Using the projection booth as an observation post (as “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” unspooled nearby), cops spotted Ofner in the act, according to police.

Ofner, seated in the theater’s back row, was then arrested for his alleged X-rated behavior during the PG-13 movie. He was booked into the Beaufort County Detention Center

Our 14 year old daughter went to see “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” Her review was pretty negative, even without the 'special added attraction.'

And just to prove that it's not only men that can get out of hand (so to speak...), we have a young lady who became so distraught because her boyfriend spurned her amorous advances that she stabbed him.

"Not Tonight, Honey" Bust

Early Saturday morning, the 19-year-old Louisiana woman wanted some sex from her boyfriend. But Todd Stewart, 35, was apparently not in the mood. In fact, he tried to push Phillips off of him in the bedroom of the pair's West Monroe home. That much the couple can agree upon, according to Ouachita Parish Sheriff's Office reports. 

19 year old girlfriend, 35 year old boyfriend. That's a big indicator of some serious issues right there.

Phillips claims Stewart became violent after rebuffing her advances. Stewart told an investigator that he left the bedroom to sleep on a living room couch, but that Phillips 'would not leave him alone.' 

Happened to me all the time in my younger days...

At some point, he added, things got physical and he was stabbed in the lower lip with 'a long metal object which appeared to be a knife.'

For her part, the frisky Phillips acknowledged to Deputy Shane Smith that she struck Stewart, but said it was done 'to protect herself.'

Phillips was charged with aggravated battery, while a bloody Stewart was charged with simple battery.

It's a sad state of affairs when items like this are more interesting, and better written, than my students' best efforts.

Sigh...

I Just Don't Get It

I'm a simple person, with a simple outlook on life. Take what God gave you, do the best you can with it, and move on.

Evidently other people have a different perspective, as evidenced by the following.

Dr. Michael Salzhauer, a renowned plastic surgeon, wrote My Beautiful Mommy to help patients explain their transformation to their children. The story guides children through Mommy's surgery and healing process in a friendly, nonthreatening way.

Through vivid illustrations and straightforward dialogue, My Beautiful Mommy explains a parent's physical transformation in a breezy, child-friendly manner. You and your child will follow along as Mommy goes through her plastic surgery experience and learn how the entire family pitches in to help Mommy achieve her beautiful results.

As any parent will tell you - children are very perceptive. It is nearly impossible to hide a plastic surgery transformation from your children. In my years of experience, trying to do so adds additional and unnecessary stress for both parent and child. Throughout the process young children can become confused.

During the initial consultation they may ask themselves questions such as Why is Mommy going to the doctor? Is Mommy sick? If these questions are not addressed, the child will often imagine fantastical scenarios to fill in the gaps of information they are lacking. This phenomenon becomes more pronounced after the surgery.

This book is designed to explain to your child what to expect - from the initial consultation to the final result. It is recommended that you read this with your child (and spouse) at least three times during the plastic surgery process: once prior to the initial consultation (if they will be coming along), once more prior to the surgery, and then again during the post-operative healing phase. Encourage your child to ask questions as you read. Answer them in an honest and straightforward manner in language they will understand.

If you follow this advice, you will be able to calm your children's fears, address their concerns, and help your family to sail easily through the plastic surgery experience.

And not to leave Dad out, we have Where Did Daddy's Hair Go?

The day Jeremiah hears his father called Baldy is the day he realizes that the man has no hair. This sets him on a mission to find the lost locks. His search raises question after question: Does it hurt to lose hair? Was his father sad to lose it? Will Jeremiah lose his hair someday? And what does it matter how we look on the outside, compared to who we are on the inside?

Young Jeremiah never noticed it before, but now he can’t seem to think of anything else: his daddy is missing a lot of hair! In fact, Daddy even says that he has “lost” his hair. But whatever’s lost can be found again, right? Jeremiah’s search leads him all over the house and yard. Not a sign of the missing hair. Luckily, Dad isn’t too upset about it. So maybe it’s not such a big deal to misplace a full head of hair after all?

In coming to terms with his father’s baldness, Jeremiah also ends up embracing diversity.

WTF?!? Going bald = embracing diversity? Speaking as a follicularly-challenged individual, I find this highly offensive. And Mommys who think they have either too much or not enough flesh (or that it is distributed improperly) are not only encouraged to artificially move it around, but to share that experience with their kids? At what point does the desire to feel positively about oneself become an illness?

Like I said, I'm a simple person. A few Shiners are all I need to make me feel better about myself...

Early FID

I know this is in advance of FID, but good news just won't wait. 

One Iranian Nuclear Scientist Killed In A Car Bomb Attack, Another Injured 

For the second time in less than a year, an Iranian physicist died in a bomb blast, adding to the mystery of what appear to be attacks against Iran's nuclear brain trust.

Majid Shahriari, a nuclear scientist at the capital's prestigious Shahid Beheshti University, died in the Monday morning attack. Another Shahid Beheshti nuclear scientist, Fereydoun Abbasi (was) injured in a separate attack about the same time.

Congrats to either the CIA or, more likely, the Mossad. Whoever did it deserves our thanks.

Both scientists attacked Monday were driving to work shortly before 8 a.m. when they were approached by motorcyclists who either attached bombs to or threw them at vehicles, police said.

Payback's a bitch, ain't it, mo-fo's. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.

This is just too cool to pass up. I'm gonna crank up the volume, pop another Shiner, and sing along at the top of my lungs.

Score one for the good guys...

Fat Lip, Fat Head

FOD rules!!!

The President has a fat lip.  

The guy can't catch a break these days. A few weeks ago, Obama received a political black eye; now, while enjoying his favorite athletic activity over the Thanksgiving weekend, the President is popped in the face by a friend.

Couldn't happen to a more deserving person. Of course, NPR put a positive spin on it, "That Fat Lip Might Give Obama Some Street Cred," speculating that the scar might "actually fortify President Obama's profile, as he contends with Kim Jong Il, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad or Vladimir Putin," the idea being that emulating Scarface Al Capone could have intimidation potential.

NPR did provide an interesting side note, pointing out that "when Sarah Palin played point guard for the Wasilla High team that won an Alaska state championship, her nickname was 'Sarah Barracuda.'" 

I'd love to see that one-on-one match-up...

And in a related story, Bergheim Follies has just learned that Barney Frank has resigned from congress to take his dream job working for the TSA.

A Visit Of Biblical Proportions

I just got back from making the final airport run to take the last of our Thanksgiving holiday guests home. It was a fine four days - a good time was had by all - but certain aspects of it reminded me of stories from the Bible.

The most obvious parallel is to the plaque of locusts that Moses visited upon Egypt. We had four high-school boys here, and they consumed food like the government consumes taxes. There was no satisfying them, no end to their insatiable appetite, and you got near their flashing silverware or chomping teeth at your own risk. It was like watching branches disappear into a wood chipper.  

A representative breakfast (and another Biblical parallel - take note of how everything goes by twos):
2 pounds of bacon
2 dozen eggs
2 tubes of biscuits
2 quarts of orange juice
2 jars of salsa

I got tired of standing at the stove and cooking, so the next day I whipped up a quick breakfast casserole - 2 pounds of pork sausage, 4 pounds of hash browns, 2 onions, 2 cups of shredded cheese, 2 cups of milk, and 6 eggs. There were actually leftovers, although that might have had something to do with the two tubes of biscuits and 1 pound of sweet rolls that were served along with the casserole.

Thanksgiving dinner consisted of an 18 pound turkey and a 6 pound turkey breast, along with a 4 pound baked ham and a multitude of side dishes. Dessert was 5 pies and a chocolate cake. We actually had enough leftovers for two more meals ... barely.

But all in all it was a good holiday. We enjoy each others company. The kids are good kids. There was a nice mix of shopping for the gals, football for the guys, outdoor activities for everyone (the weather was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous), and they left before we got tired of them (and visa versa). Even the dogs behaved themselves.

Now it's back to the grind. One more week of classes, then finals. Of course, the administrators have crammed all the meetings they blew off earlier in the year into the next week, but I can tolerate them because in 10 short days it'll be the between-semester break for me. Thirty days of no students, no classes, and no administrators. Of course, I have some research projects to work on and a couple of conferences to attend, but that's okay. It beats the regular routine.

It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it...

Sunday Funnies

Freya was driving home on Black Friday when she saw an elderly Apache woman walking along the side of the road outside Albuquerque, New Mexico.  She stopped the car and asked the woman if she would like a lift?

With a silent nod, the woman climbed into the car.  Freya tried in vain to make conversation with the Apache woman.

The old Apache looked closely at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a red gift bag on the seat next to Freya.

'What's in the bag?' asked the old woman.

'It's a bottle of gin that I got for my husband.'

The Apache woman was silent for another minute or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said, 'Good trade.'

Friday Follies Happy Hour - Saturday Version

Thanksgiving threw me off schedule. Here's the Happy Hour video, one day late.

This week's selection was inspired by the news of Willie Nelson getting busted for pot - again.

A U.S. Border Patrol spokesman says country singer Willie Nelson was charged with marijuana possession after 6 ounces was found aboard his tour bus in Texas.

Patrol spokesman Bill Brooks says the bus pulled into the Sierra Blanca, Texas, checkpoint about 9 a.m. Friday. Brooks says an officer smelled pot when a door was opened and a search turned up marijuana.

Brooks says the Hudspeth County sheriff was contacted and Nelson was among three people arrested.

Sheriff Arvin West didn't immediately return a phone message left at his home Friday, but he told the El Paso Times that Nelson claimed the marijuana was his. The singer was held briefly a $2,500 bond before being released.

Nelson spokeswoman Elaine Schock declined to comment.

Texas A&M Does It Again

Dr. Calvin Rickson, a scientist from Texas A&M University, has invented a  bra that keeps women's breasts from jiggling, bouncing up and down, and prevents the nipples from  pushing through the fabric when cold weather sets in.

 
At a news conference, after announcing the invention, a large group of men took Dr. Rickson outside and kicked the shit out of him.

It's All About The Gravy

Turkey: The Means to a Socially Illicit End

In a recent essay, Jeffrey Tucker observed: "turkey isn't delicious." He then went on at considerable length to show how to make a meal of turkey more delicious – and how not to cook the bird. He misses the point. He confuses ends with means.

Mr. Tucker knows a lot about preparing turkey. I don't. I do know a lot about eating turkey. And let me say from the start: Thanksgiving dinner is not about eating turkey. It's about stuffing yourself with a high-fat, low-nutrition food that is socially questionable except at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Thanksgiving dinner is a revered middle-class celebration in America precisely because the middle class won't allow itself the culinary debauchery of a food that lower-class families in the South have delighted in for three centuries, several times a week. That food is gravy. I don't mean wimpy, light-colored turkey juice gravy. I mean thick, brown, clogs-your-arteries gravy.

Do we use lots of gravy on a plate full of turkey? Of course. Why? Because we like gravy. Turkey is a socially acceptable excuse to eat gravy, in the same way that artichoke leaves are a socially acceptable excuse to eat mayonnaise or melted butter. I mean, what socially conscious middle-class American would, in full public view, ladle out a plate of gravy and then consume it, spoonful by spoonful? But fork after fork of gravy smothering pieces of turkey are part of the annual ritual.

But couldn't you use a piece of bread to sop up the gravy, which would be a whole lot less trouble and a lot cheaper than buying a 22-pound turkey? In the rural South, yes. Not elsewhere. So non-Southerners have a substitute. It's called a hot turkey sandwich. You can also eat a mayonnaise sandwich, which lots of people do this time of year. It's called a cold turkey sandwich. Leftover turkey's main function is to enable us to enjoy another round of foods that we refuse to eat without a socially acceptable excuse.

Turkey is also about freedom of choice. "Would you like white meat or dark meat?" White meat means a double portion of gravy, because white meat is dry if the cook has aimed at producing decent dark meat. The cook is always entitled to this excuse for dry white turkey: "But I followed the recipe!" She did, indeed. White turkey meat is dry because it has so little fat in it. So, it's socially acceptable to load up on gravy. A gravy-loving, socially conscious person cannot easily justify a lot of gravy on dark meat. So, he or she chooses white meat.

With Thanksgiving dinner, we also get to eat mashed potatoes, which call out dryly for another ladle of gravy. So, it's two for the price of one.

No; it's actually three: don't forget about the dressing. And here's the great part: you are allowed to heap gravy on top of really high-fat dressing – as Tucker says, dressing made with pig. Thanksgiving dinner is hog heaven for gravy lovers, which means most of us.

When it comes to Thanksgiving dinner, one phrase comes to mind: "Everything extra is gravy."

Pumpkin Pie

Turkey is to gravy what pumpkin is to sugar. It justifies an indulgence. Pumpkin, like turkey, is good for you. But can you imagine anyone actually wanting to eat cooked orange vegetable in a crust? Not without a boat load of sugar! But sugar is on the outs these days in health-conscious circles, in the same way that gravy is out. So, Americans eat orange vegetable pie at Thanksgiving. With whipped cream. It's socially acceptable. It's even expected.

You think I'm kidding. Well, if you do, try a helping of sugar-free canned cranberry sauce. See how tasty that is. Wash it down with a glass of skim milk. (A milk chaser is ghastly enough with sugared cranberry sauce.)

Conclusion

Thanksgiving dinner is about consuming otherwise socially unacceptable quantities of gravy and sugar. Turkey, pumpkin, and cranberries serve as justifications for eating what we really want, but find it socially unacceptable to eat by themselves.

"Honey, please pass me the gravy dish. I've got a plate full of white meat here."

"All right, but save room for dessert. I've baked a high-nutrition orange vegetable pie."

Best wishes to you and yours for a safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving.

California Ponders Suicide - Texas Offers A Knife

Col. Nick Rowe has written several posts lamenting the foolish - nay, even self-destructive - choices made by California politicos and special interest groups. Now Forbes has highlighted this trend, and by contrasting it with the path that Texas has taken shown it for the dead-end road it truly is.

California Suggests Suicide; Texas Asks: Can I Lend You a Knife?

In the future, historians may likely mark the 2010 midterm elections as the end of the California era and the beginning of the Texas one. In one stunning stroke, amid a national conservative tide, California voters essentially ratified a political and regulatory regime that has left much of the state unemployed and many others looking for the exits.

California  has become a cautionary tale of mismanagement of what by all rights should be the country’s most prosperous big state. Its poverty rate is at least two points above the national average; its unemployment rate nearly three points above the national average.  On Friday Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger was forced yet again to call an emergency session in order to deal with the state’s enormous budget problems.

This state of crisis is likely to become the norm for the Golden State. In contrast to other hard-hit states like Pennsylvania, Ohio and Nevada, which all opted for pro-business, fiscally responsible candidates, California voters decisively handed virtually total power to a motley coalition of Democratic-machine politicians, public employee unions, green activists and rent-seeking special interests.

Texas’ trajectory, however, looks quite the opposite. California was recently ranked by Chief Executive magazine as having the worst business climate in the nation, while Texas’ was considered the best. Both Democrats and Republicans in the Lone State State generally embrace the gospel of economic growth and limited public sector expenditure.

Since 1998, California’s economy has not produced a single new net job, notes economist John Husing. Public employment has swelled, but private jobs have declined.  Critically, as Texas grew its middle-income jobs by 16%, one of the highest rates in the nation, California, at 2.1% growth, ranked near the bottom. In the year ending September, Texas accounted for roughly half of all the new jobs created in the country.

Even more revealing is California’s diminishing preeminence in high-tech and science-based (or STEM–Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics) jobs. Over the past decade California’s supposed bulwark grew a mere 2%–less than half the national rate. In contrast, Texas’ tech-related employment surged 14%. Since 2002 the Lone Star state added 80,000 STEM jobs; California, a mere 17,000.

Hollywood too is shifting frames, with more and more film production going to Michigan, New Mexico, New York and other states. In 2002, 82% of all film production took place in California–now it’s down to roughly 30%. And plans by Los Angeles County, the epicenter of the film industry, to double permit fees for film, television and commercial productions certainly won’t help.

What on earth is LA thinking? An entire industry is moving production outside the city, and their solution is to double fees for the remainder?

International trade, the third linchpin of the California economy, is also under assault. Tough environmental regulations and the anticipated widening in 2014 of the Panama Canal are emboldening competitors, particularly across the entire southern tier of the country, most notably in Houston ... to lure high-paid blue collar jobs away from California’s ports.

Most worrisome of all, these telltale signs of palpable economic decline seem to escape most of the state’s top leaders. The newly minted Lieutenant Governor, San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom, insists “there’s nothing wrong with California” and claims other states “would love to have the problems of California.”

Newsom does a pretty good ostrich imitation: "There's nothing wrong here that more taxes and regulations can't fix."

But it’s not only the flaky Newsom who is out of sync with reality. Jerry Brown, a far savvier politician, maintains “green jobs,” up to 500,000 of them, will turn the state around. Theoretically, these jobs might make up for losses created by ever stronger controls on traditional productive businesses like agriculture, warehousing and manufacturing. But its highly unlikely.

Construction will be particularly hard hit, since Brown also aims to force Californians, four-fifths of whom prefer single-family houses, into dense urban apartment districts. Over time, this approach will send home prices soaring and drive even more middle-class Californians to the exits.

Ultimately the “green jobs” strategy, effective as a campaign plank, represents a cruel delusion. Given the likely direction of the new GOP-dominated House of Representatives in Washington, massive federal subsidies for the solar and wind industries, as well as such boondoggles as high-speed rail, are likely to be scaled back significantly.  Without subsidies, federal loans or draconian national regulations, many green-related ventures will cut as oppose to add jobs, as is already beginning to occur. The survivors, increasingly forced to compete on a market basis, will likely move to China, Arizona or even Texas, already the nation’s leader in wind energy production.

Tom Hayden, a ’60s radical turned environmental zealot, admits that given the current national climate the only way California can maintain Brown’s “green vision” will be to impose “some combination of rate hikes and tax revenues.”  Such an approach may help bail out green investors, but seems likely to drive even more businesses out of the state.

My God. If even Tom Hayden can figure it out, why can't the rest of the politicians?

California’s decline is particularly tragic, as it is unnecessary and largely unforced. The state still possesses the basic assets–energy, fertile land, remarkable entrepreneurial talent–to restore its luster. But given its current political trajectory, you can count on Texans, and others, to keep picking up both the state’s jobs and skilled workers. If California wishes to commit economic suicide, Texas and other competitors will gladly lend them a knife.

A recent list of jobs and businesses fleeing California is staggering.  

By pure coincidence, the headline in today's San Antonio newspaper announced that San Diego-based Petco (the pet store people) is moving a portion of its corporate headquarters, and 400 high-paying financial, accounting, and management jobs, from San Diego to San Antonio. Anyone want to bet that there's another Petco shoe out there getting ready to drop?

San Antonio also snagged the Toyota Tacoma production line from CA when Toyota shut down its Fremont CA plant last spring.

However, the purpose of this post is not to blow San Antonio's horn. It's rather to express the concern that CA will eventually become another member of the PIGS club. (The PIGS are Portugal, Ireland, Greece, and Spain, all of whom have mismanaged their economy to the point where massive bailouts are necessary.) If this happens in CA, guess who'll get stuck with the tab?

That's right, the U.S. taxpayer.

After all, California is too big to fail...

And So It Begins

My wife and I spent all morning, and untold hundreds of dollars, at the grocery store today. Friends and family are coming for Thanksgiving, and God forbid that any of them should go home without totally trashing their Body Mass Index.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The weather is usually superior to summer or winter holidays. There's not the gift-giving pressure associated with Christmas or Valentines Day. And we usually get at least a four-day weekend to do nothing but eat, drink, and watch football. What's not to like?

To make it even better, I like to cook. I start planning at least a week in advance, selecting recipes, making lists, and creating schedules. It drove my wife crazy at first, but over time she came to see the wisdom of my method.

The ultimate was about 16 years ago when we had just moved into a new house in Houston. Friends and family came from all over the country. There were so many of them we needed three large turkeys to feed them all. I got overly ambitious and prepared one using the traditional oven-roasted method, I smoked the second one, and deep-fried the third Cajun style. Somehow they all were ready at the same time, along with a multitude of side dishes. To this day I'm not sure how I pulled it off, but I'm wise enough to to stop when I'm ahead. That's the last time I tried anything on that scale.

Still, we will have several guests this year. So today was shopping. Tomorrow is preparing the ancillary meals (that is, what we'll feed them before the Great Feast). Since we're expecting crisp weather, I'm making a couple of gallons of chili. Wednesday will be spent preparing the side dishes. For example, I make the dressing ahead of time, refrigerate it, and then pop it in the oven alongside the bird.

Thursday, of course, is devoted to The Bird. In addition to roasting one, I'm trying something a little new this year. I'm a sucker for infomercials. I saw one a couple of weeks ago for an indoor turkey fryer. After a little research I ordered one. I'm going to fry just a turkey breast this time around. Between the big bird in the oven, the breast, and a baked ham, I figure that should satisfy the hordes. (We'll have four teenage boys here, all jocks, so 'hordes' is not an exaggeration, at least when it comes to consumption of vittles.)

To give you some idea of how the weekend will go, at least for the adults, about half a bottle of sherry is used in roasting the turkey. The dressing is made with brandy. Whiskey Sweet Potatoes are served as a side dish. Dessert is a choice of Jack Daniel's Chocolate Pecan Pie, Pumpkin Pie with Bourbon Cream Sauce, or Bread Pudding soaked in Rum Sauce.

Recipes available upon request...

Busy Week

I'm writing my final exams this week (I create new ones every semester, so that any students who prepare using old exams get what they deserve), plus we're having friends and family come visit for Thanksgiving, so blogging may be affected. For example, today's effort is a simple visual aid to help illustrate FOD.

And while we're at it, let's throw in a little commentary on Bill Clinton, just for the hell of it.

Students at my university were assigned to read two books: "Titanic," and "My Life" by Bill Clinton.

One student turned in the following book report, arguing that the two books were nearly identical.  

Titanic:         cost -  $29.99
Clinton:        cost -  $29.99

Titanic:         Over 3  hours to  read
Clinton :       Over 3  hours to read

Titanic:         The story of  Jack and Rose, their forbidden love, and subsequent catastrophe.
Clinton :       The  story of Bill and Monica, their forbidden  love,  and subsequent catastrophe.

Titanic:         Jack is a starving artist.
Clinton :        Bill is a bullshit artist.

Titanic:         In one scene, Jack enjoys a good cigar.
Clinton :        Ditto for Bill.

Titanic:         During the ordeal, Rose's dress gets ruined.
Clinton :       Ditto for Monica.

Titanic:         Jack teaches Rose to spit.
Clinton :       Let's not go there.

Titanic:         Rose gets to keep her jewelry.
Clinton :       Monica is  forced to return her gifts.

Titanic:         Rose remembers Jack for the rest of her life.
Clinton :       Clinton remembers Monica for the rest of his life.

Titanic:         Rose goes down on a vessel full of seamen.
Clinton :       Monica...ooh, let's not go there, either.

Titanic:         Jack surrenders to an icy death.
Clinton :       Bill goes home to Hilary - basically the same thing.  

He received an A+ for his  report.

(Thanks, Terry)

Sunday Funnies

How To Cook A Turkey:

Step 1: Go buy a turkey
Step 2: Take a drink of whiskey
Step 3: Put turkey in the oven
Step 4: Take another 2 drinks of whiskey
Step 5: Set the degree at 375 ovens
Step 6: Take 3 more whiskeys of drink
Step 7: Turk the bastey
Step 8: Whiskey another bottle of get
Step 9: Ponder the meat thermometer
Step 10: Glass yourself a pour of whiskey
Step 11: Bake the whiskey for 4 hours
Step 12: Take the oven out of the turkey
Step 13: Floor the turkey up off of the pick
Step 14: Turk the carvey
Step 15: Get yourself another scottle of botch
Step 16: Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey
Step 17: Bless the dinner and pass out