It Ain't Me.....

Words here would be a waste of space......

Told ya.....
Okay - one more

R.I.P. Big Man.......

Half Iraq, or A Noggin'?

I watched a "nurse in" news story on the local ABC affiliate yesterday. Seems there was a revolt of sorts in progress after a local mom was chastised by what likely was a Baptist or Penecostal Target employee for breast feeding her infant, covered and discretely, while doing her shopping. Now while I will say that my position on the issue leans toward allowing discrete breast feeding as necessary, I have to confess that if I observe it in progress, I will likely steal a glance, looking for a brief glimpse of the proverbial second base.....or is it third? In the news story on Ch 13, as I was dutifully watching and noting every detail, I caught what I thought to be a glimpse of a nassive mammary, and in the process of patting myself on the back for my good fortune, I caught a replay..........
Have you ever noticed how much a newborn's bald head, resembles third base?????????

I must relate this story to my breast friends.......

A New Year, A New Leaf........

......and you may or may not notice, that I've retired my obssession with the Victoria Advocate, and removed related posts. Fact is, as pitiful as it is, I have come to realize that I am no longer a part of it, and better yet, it is no longer a part of me. The friends and contacts I made there, I still communicate with here and by e-mail and on Facebook. The cretins, misfit antagonists and misguided jesus freaks stinking up my once hometown paper, are a thing of the past. When my dad died, still struggling to fetch his paper from the bar ditch the carrier seemed to delight in depositing it into as opposed to his drivewy or sidewalk, that ended a tradition we have as a family participated in since 1959. For me, it ended in 2007,(I suspect a number of others share that dubious milestone).
Whatever the case, short of the second sitting for the last supper, actually occurring in Chris Cobler's office, or bigj's Sam Houston State dropout's alumni dance, I am pretty much going to concentrate on what I do best - telling stories - a few true, others, up for debate.

Excuse Me Deer.........Are You In The Mood?

Let me start by saying - I don't hunt......except for fish, which brings to mind the clever Santa/car salesman Chevy truck commercial running this cool yule season. You see, this article in the outdoors part of the sports section of the Chronicle caught my eye this morning. The header said "bucks are vulnerable now, during their mating season"....... Well duh, I thought. Then it occurred to me that everything considered, the deer hunters are pretty much in the same boat - except that their mating season has no opening and closing dates. Now mind you, this doesn't exactly when one takes into account deer feeders, blinds, scopes that can tell if a deer is a natural blonde, and oh, that 30-06 Winchester, level the playing field, but it is something to think about. Like I said, I am not a Linda McCartney, "don't eat anything with a face" fanatic, in fact, I kind of dig venison sausage kolaches,

....okay, nerd time - the extended version.......

The Sad State of Print News....

......and of those who are hastening it's demise. I found out a couple of weeks ago, after nearly two years of buying my morning paper from Mustafa and Walid, full retail I might ad, that the Chronicle is actually hurting enough for circulation numbers, that their carriers now will enter a beehive apartment complex such as mine and trudge up the stairs to put a paper on my mat. After all this time of doing without, I was shocked at the first one that I brought in in it's plastic sleeve. It was a Tuesday edition, and while it was the Chronicle, if was smaller than I remember the sports section alone being, just 6-8 years ago. I tell you that to tell you this: It is still a traditional newspaper in every sense of the word, and that is a hell of a lot more than I can say for the Advocate. I find the print edition to be a complete embarrassment, compared to what I saw, as recently as 2006. It is poorly laid out, and so biased and one track minded in it's tone, that I am shocked it is still in circulation. I think that they are surviving simply due to the fact that "old habits die hard". That is the print edition. Their online edition, and "blogs" and forum, have become a complete free for all, with a few intelligent hangers on, diluted by a bevy of religious freaks, redneck philosophers, and just total morons stinking up the place. I will read it until the powers that be hopefully sell it to someone with some editorial aptitude and the ability to make it into a newspaper again. By the same token, I will not be surprised at the announcement that they are just closing their doors. Like I said, old habits die hard. Just ask the recurring "spotlight blogger"/editor...........

Crying In Carolina......

......for sure I miss my friends and my beautiful family in Texas, but no these tears are tears not of sadness, but of a reaction to Klingon pollen and histimines like I haven't experienced since moving from Seadrift to Austin. Funny, moving from Austin to Houston, cured me completely. Go figure. Maybe the exhaust fumes killed the allergens there.
From day one out here, my eyes have been weeping and my sinuses boiling. I have so far, resisted the obvious over the counter poisons, and going to the doctor for him to get his hand deeper into my pockets than it is over my blood pressure and cholesterol.......

A nice hotel desk clerk who moonlights as a nutritionist, recommended I try some of the local honey, made from local pollen by local bees, as a possible source of relief. Two doses in my diet today and so far, so good. I am prepared as a "plan B", in the event the honeybees bomb, to sample the local corn next. Best delivery system I have come up with so far, is trying the local moonshine......
My friend the nutritionist suggested mixing it with the honey, should I resort to such a "cure". My old friend the Grey-Beard Loon seems to be in agreement as well, that the "shine" is at least worth a try, if not actually a damned good plan......
So if you see me with a Mason Jar full of water...........

Lima Time! A Happy Memory of a Good Man

As much as a lot of celebrities, sports stars, and persons of note pass, and many times it turns out that their death was a result of their inability to control or deal with their their fame and fortune, there are those other tragic stories of a truly decent, gifted person, with role model stuff. Talent, charisma, and a gift of being able to impart that way of appreciating life and living it to the fullest, to others. Jose Lima was such a person, and he died this morning.
He passed away this morning at his home in California. What a heartbreaking piece of news. My condolences to Jose's family and friends. As one who loves the sport of baseball, I can say that there are few who measure up to the caliber of person that Jose Lima embodied. A truly gifted athlete, he was so much more as a person. He was the light of the Astros team, and a person who loved his life and lived it to the fullest. In addition to a talented baseball pitcher, he was a great dancer, and a talented singer in his own salsa band.
I am a father, and the one "Lima Time" moment that I will forever remember, was at at game in the Astrodome. It was before the start of the game, and Jose and some of the young PR girls were tossing soft Astros promotional "baseballs" into the crowd. My oldest son was maybe four at the time, and he ran from our seats down to the rail by the Astros bullpen along the first base line in the outfield and disappeared into the crow lining the rail, as they were down to one last ball - in Jose's hand, to toss into the crowd. I watched him look into the crowd of fans and kids lined up with outstretched hands. Then I saw his face light up with the sweetest big Lima smile that was so typical of Jose, then he walked to the railing and disappeared behind the crowd standing there. A couple of seconds later my little beaming, grinning Stephen came running back to our seats a couple of rows up, holding the ball the Jose handed to him. As I sit here with a tear on my cheek, after hearing the tragic news, I can safely say that that smile as he locked gazes with my little boy, and the one that he put on my boy's face that day, is the way I will forever remember Jose Lima. I am eternally grateful for the one little thing Jose did and for the influence that it had on myself, and most surely on my son. A truly wonderful soul. Rest in peace, Jose.