A Career Kamikaze......And a Confession of Sorts

This is one of those stories I can write that might actually be acceptable for my boys to read. I have so many yet "on hold", that they probably need to remain shielded from for a while yet. This one does not involve Texas Rangers, indictments, or a midnight meeting with a boat or a plane. Just a good old fashioned story about learning things the hard way. The other stories will have to wait a while or be told in the second or third person.......

Why DO kamikaze pilots wear helmets? Probably the ones that do, fit the colloquial definitions:(1. said of exploits, missions, etc: suicidally dangerous or 2. foolhardy, reckless), and are safe in the knowledge that while they shouldn't be attempting a particular feat or adventure, that that little voice or driving force is gonna win anyway, so a helmet probably is warranted.

Do any of you have kids that take that approach towards having fun and well, life? I'm batting .500 in that department - .333 if all three of us boys are averaged in...... My oldest is the one who calculates risks and studies possible outcomes. He's the one who, when I am trying to defend my driving, slam dunks the conversation with "but dad, you smacked a train in broad daylight".(he's also the only one of the two who's had a broken bone, but in all fairness to him, the little one gave him the push) Hard to argue with that one.
My baby,(11)on the other hand, is the one who'll grab my hand and jump, no questions asked, and then get down to working on a landing spot and if necessary, "plan B" with me, cool as a cucumber. Mom mans the medicine cabinet and the E.R. transportation,(so far it's been just her driving for the most part - she's only called for an ambulance once - for me after a motorcycle exhibition gone wrong) so consequently, in most cases, she insisted on driving on our family excursions.
Works for me. Freed me up to look out the window with Buford and take pictures.....
I took out my skis this weekend, (I love my skis)in preparation for the next four or five months and some anticipated road trips to the "Land of Enchantment". They looked great, but upon closer inspection revealed some surface rust on the edges. Time for a run to the ski shop for re-edging and a hot wax. That made me think of a time once long ago in Austin. Another "kamikaze" experience if you will....... I have somewhere, an old pair of Bauer or CCM hockey skates I liked almost as much as I do my skis. I worked a second job as a guard on the ice at the Ice Age rink in Northcross Mall, played hockey VERY briefly, and mostly just enjoyed skating. One night after we resurfaced the ice, and even before the door had closed on the Zamboni, I hit the ice nad made a mad dash, at full speed, the length of the rink. My then wife, was standing behind the boards and plexiglass at the opposite end of the rink, and my plan was to barrel up to just shy of the wall and hockey stop about a foot away from her, spraying the glass with snow/shaved ice. What I failed to mention here (and also failed to remember in the heat of the moment and at the height of my testosterone fueled charge), is that I had had my skates sharpened that day. Anyone who has ice skated or played hockey will know that to initate such a spectacular stop, all that is required is a subtle flick of the hips and a lean and a twist into it. What I also overlooked was how fresh edges & new ice act in concert. In so doing, let me just say that in executing the ever so slight hip flick maneuver to pull my stunt, absolutely nothing happened. I hit those boards in an explosion of flesh, denim, hair and plywood in what to anyone looking, had to have all the appearances of a man/boy in a full bore, effort at ending it all right then and there. Oh, and I crumpled and fell like a garbage bag full of vanilla wafers too. As I recall, I then pulled myself up, opened the door and vanished down the stairs rather than take a victory lap in front of the crowd who, if they hadn't seen it, they heard it and came running from as far away as The Drag and Antone's. God, I am so happy that I had the presence of mind not to yell "hey y'all, watch this" just before I pulled the pin on that one. I really do try and impart the wisdom I have gained from incidents like this over the years, to my boys and to any youngsters who will listen. Problem is, when you're under thirty, and the adrenalin is pumping and you really know better, there's always that little voice........."go ahead, YOU CAN DO IT"......

A Little Revolution of Sorts

Well, the last couple of days have certainly been interesting for myself and a few other current and former Vicad bloggers. I think in a cranky moment, I probably forced the hand of the questionable "editors" at the "paper"........I basically begged them to pull the plug on me, and they did. That's not all bad, though the behavior I exhibited online with them was like less than acceptable, by anybody's standards. I kinda took the Popeye "that's all I can stands, cause I can't stands no more" tack I guess. I had a long run with them, and for the first couple of years, the format was enjoyable, and the stable of accepted bloggers, was a respectable bunch, with a couple of esteemed writers, a slew of rookies, and a good cross section of readers and commenters, some of whom in time, took the initiative to start their own blogs, and in a few cases, do a damn good job as well. It's too bad the management and editorial staff of the Advocate couldn't hold up their end of the deal, but rather, brought in a really clueless editor, followed by a few of his pals, who in my estimation, turned out to be a bunch of carpetbaggers, with little if any, grasp of the local culture, history, or what their long time subscribers and readers wanted in a newspaper. Basically, they brought in a geek team, with a Myspace/Facebook, freaking Twitter mentality, and supplanted over the course of nearly three years, everything and everybody that had made the Advocate what it was. I suppose we will see in the long run, or sooner, if my estimation of the mess there is accurate. I will say, that as it had finally devolved to, I and apparently some others will say good riddance, to the pitiful new bunch that is sinking the ship, and good luck to the remaining old guard who are in such a cover their own ass panic mode, that they sit idly by and watch the fiasco unfold and cower to the carpetbaggers, because they hold the hatchet. For anyone who questions my assessment of these preppie wannabe newspapermen, I urge you so sit in on some of their sophomoric commentary and clueless to the fact that are being broadcast live silliness, to go here at ten oclock, any weekday morning:
http://www.livestream.com/victoriaadvocatelive?referrer=mogulus
Feel free to monitor these dweebfests and report back to me, and particularly to them. Get involved. It is an interactive netmeeting. I'll be lurking to see......
My task now, is to try to shed this grouchy attitude that came about as a result of this de-evolution of a paper that I was raised reading, and finally allowed to write in on occasion, and try to rediscover the pleasure and gratification I derived from telling an occasional story, or sharing an opinion, and reading the comments and reactions of those who read them.............
The part I will not miss, is some of the johnny come lately jerks that showed up after Mistuh Cobler turned the forums into a free for all wankfest, and instituted a set of rules, then totally disregarded those rules and rode roughshod over the flock, indiscriminately nuking and banning any and all who challenged his horseshit dictator editorial style, and worse yet, took a couple, three of the old guard folks and instilled the fear of God in them, regarding their employment/retirement possibilities, and dragged them down to his level.
I'll be fine......and I will continue to blog here, and hopefully, will give this burr in my ass a dose of merthiolate and forget it all. I will be watching and waiting though, for the day when those Kansas/Colorado boys' "let's hitch our star to the hispanic angle" bunch act finally wears thin and circulation falls to the point that the owners give them the boot. I only hope it happens before they decide that it's a better plan to just throw in the towel and close the doors and turn out the lights.

Mistuh Cobler......as J Would Say

Just an FYI. IMHO, this newspaper is a joke, and your comment about being a free agent soon, may come sooner than you think if you and your cronies don't get serious about putting some quality and some THOUGHT back into what graces your pages and if your online circus continues in the direction is is headed. I was once proud to have been chosen as one of the original bloggers to grace the pages here, and hoping against hope that the nightmare of the Myface fustercluck you have created, would eventually raise some flags and scare the owners into reigning you in. Having been removed a second time, is proof enough to me that you are spineless and clueless as far as what sells as news and how to gather and report it without duping your readers into doing the legwork for you. I'd ordinar1ly close with "good luck", but I honestly hope your run of luck runs out soon, and that the Advocate is restored to it's past status as a respected regional publication, rather than continue to be ridden into the ground by a bunch of wannabe internet geeks who come cheaper than actual newspapermen (and women). To have been ousted by your henchmen for a second time feels a lot better than it did the first time. Almost a validation of sorts. Enjoy your little literary circle jerk with your boy who can do no wrong. A token you wanted, a token you got. He'll be the cause of your ultimately being dumped too.

Kicked Out Of Hell - What's Next

I almost feel a bit silly, even writing this........but I was canned by a small town south Texico newspaper as a blogger, after almost six years of writing for them, and seeing the paper go through a handful of software upgrades, and a transformation from a respected locally published daily, that rivaled the city rags for content, columnists. and generally a good morning read, to a tabloid type publication, with a Myface style blog and comments forum that opened it's pages to an really wide range of daily posters. While for the most part, the folks blogging, though waaaaaay too many, were reasonably benign and actually in a number of cases, very informative and entertaining, there was one or two, who made it their mission in life, to monopolize the bandwidth and basically create in one case at least, a bully pulpit, tolerated, if not feared by the wimp editorial staff, due to it being penned by a boy of color, a token blogger if you will.........whose every word was combative or hate laced, yet in the eyes of the pale ranger editor of questionable credentials, a midwest yes man, who surrounded himself with like types, or struggling interns, who was actually afraid to take steps to limit or criticize the posts of said token blogger. Damn shame actually, because I honestly believe that in the long run, said token blo.......gger, and the aforementioned editor will both be unceremoniously stripped of their respective "duties" and will be looking for a new gig as well......
The Victoria Advocate was once a really good regional daily newspaper. Could be that rather than rcover, it will just go the way of so many other papers.........only at maybe an earlier date than it might have, had the owners not nade the fatal funn.......er, mistake of hiring the breadbasket shyster, "let's draft citizen reporters to do our work for us" bunch that is at the helm of thier hellbound train. No big.........I live in the city.......I have the Chronicle, The Times, the Morning News, and the WaPo all available at the local newsstand. In Vic, they have only the dying Advocate........well, there is a better paper available......for those who'll drive to Port Lavaca to pick one up........

Padre Signs With Another Team, His Ball's In Pope's Court Now

Father Alberto Cutie, the Catholic priest from Fla. who admitted having a romantic affair and breaking his vow of celibacy, is joining the Episcopal Church to be with the woman he loves, he said Thursday. To show this will not be completely tongue in cheek, I will allow that despite my preponderance to use wordplay, his last name is actually pronounced koo-tee-AY.

For what it's worth, his new team announced that he will go right into the rotation, and make his first start on Sunday, after his usual six days rest.
A spokesman from the diocese he is leaving, John C. Favalora, archbishop of the Catholic Church's Miami archdiocese, had a few choice words for the departing pastor, starting with the Revelation that he hasn't been granted his release yet. Apparently he signed a no trade clause, that only the GM (Pope,you guess what GM is an acronym for) can sign off on.....well, he's the one that can hold the pen anyway.

As with many such team switches, it seems that a rivalry is sure to develop. According to CNN, Favalora also had harsh words for the Episcopal church's decision to accept Cutie. "This truly is a serious setback for ecumenical relations and cooperation between us," he said.

This in a way, shouldn't come as such a shock to many folks. The practice of taking, or inventing a new gig to improve one's lot in life, isn't like a new concept, even in religion, especially in this country. If you don't think so, think of the original bunch of settlers being primarily Catholic or Church of England.....okay, not counting Salem, Mass. Now go open your Sunday paper or Yellow Pages, and thumb over to the church directory. I rest my case. Even in my hometown, Footloose, Tx, there are a number of folks who years ago, swapped dunking for dancin'. The drive was two blocks closer on Sunday, and the possibilities on Friday and Saturday night increased exponentially.

Well, all kidding aside, I wish the man the best. He is in love, and that is a natural and wonderful thing...........and by the way, she's a cutie too.......sorry, couldn't resist.

A Tale of Two Blogs - Well, Three Actually

First the two. I find myself back in good graces of The Victoria Advocate, after being banned. I am not going to go into that other than to say that I accepted being excommunicated, and I moved on, and created or re-created my blog here.
I had or have mixed emotions about being reinstated in that space. I have been blogging there through at least a couple of management and editor changes at the Advocate, and a couple of format an software changes to the blogs. I started out writing stories and a a few opinion pieces, and was fortunate to be part of a small group of writers that was accustomed to their writings being around for a day or two, and having some meaningful dialogue and interaction with a few readers. Needless to say, I was disappointed in the first change instituted by current management, when it became a free for all, anybody could blog if they could remember a password and username. I think after a rocky period, I adapted to the format, however much I grumbled from time to time. It just wasn't the same, and our stories and writings were pushed off the front page, almost before some late sleepers were able to even see them, and quite honestly, there were so many flippant and inconsistent new bloggers, that a lot of the old readers and commenters just gave up and quit reading. Well, was I in for a shock when the latest change was implemented. Same story, tenfold. What once was a small group of reasonably literate writers and readers/commenters, had turned into an absolute circus of geeks, freaks, and a 75/25 mix of some actual serious bloggers/commenters with something constructive to contribute, and in a reasonably literate fashion, and a majority of others just looking for a fight and someone to disagree with and a limited at best grasp of proper grammar, and the spelling skills of fifth graders. Now that I probably have pissed off management again, and that 75%, let me say that I realize that this is apparently the direction our society is headed, when it comes to online newspapers. Which is another reason I started my parallel blog. It is my blog. Only. If some of the other bloggers want to do one, more power to 'em, but what is on my page, is all that will ever be there. If I go a month between comments, that is fine too. As much as I do and have enjoyed the interaction with readers here, at times, I tire of some of the hayseed, illiterate vermin who come out from under the baseboards with no intention of doing anything but harassing and dealing out vicious personal attacks to the other bloggers.
So for anyone who has bothered to stay with me to this point, most everything you see there on my blog will have been published on Blogger first. There will be things posted here that are not relevant there, and there will be things posted here, that would likely get me busted again there. I am not belittling the Advocate forum in any way, and being interested in the issues and comings and goings of the place I was raised and have family and friends, I would like to contribute and participate there as long as I can. By the same token, I would like to invite anyone who reads my blogs there, to feel free to check this blog site also, as well as that of
http://thegrey-beardloon.blogspot.com/ a former staff writer and blogger for the Vicad, and a fine wordsmith and veteran writer and newspaperman with a keen wit, whom I am sure you will find quite informative and very entertaining, with daily (when the urge hits him) to many other very good blogs, online publications and such.

Weight A Minute, This Can't Be Right..........

.......which is what I thought when I retrieved our invoice for a night in the old Stephen F. Austin Hotel this morning. Even feeling the effects of a five mile UPSTREAM kayak paddle on the Colorado yesterday, and a night of walking the streets of downtown Austin, I was still cognizant enough to glance at the document and see a short laundry list of outrageously priced little hotel room treats that we were apparently being gouged to the tune of about fifty bucks for. Now mind you while I have stayed in posh Manhattan hotels, as well as places with stick walls a thatched roof and a hammock for a bed, most of my hotel stays are in places like I stayed last night. Porcelain throne, plastic shampoo & conditioner bottles, a Klingon coffee maker, little pads and pens that go directly into the pocket of your backpack, a ten dollar bottle of Fiji water, that is like a fire alarm under glass - you don't dare open it unless your first born is choking on a continental breakfast bagel. Then there is the fridge. Most hotel/motels in rural recreational areas come with a functional, empty fridge, as opposed to the ones in the city which come with a tiny fully stocked fridge and a list hidden somewhere nearby with some really astonishing prices associated with sample sized candy bars, Red Bulls, Evian, and nuts and pretzels. I can safely say that I have never been on death's door from hunger and attempted to even sniff of one of these little high priced treats, so you can imagine my surprise at being charged an arm and a leg for a couple of midget water bottles, energy drinks and a can of pretzels almost light enough to float away on it's own. Which lead me to wonder at 7AM, even if I had gotten the munchies and raided that little treasure box, how did they know? Did they send someone to surreptitiously slip into our room as we slept, with a little flashlight to inventory the fridge? When I brought this to the attention of my partner,(an engineer by trade), she thought for a second or two, then reminded me that I had rearranged the contents of the box the night before to make room for a hunk of cheese and a bottle of White Truck Sauvignon Blanc (2007, which I highly recommend), and asked me what items I had to relocate to make room.........and sure enough, everything I moved was on the list even though with my photographic memory, I carefully returned each to it's proper place after I wiped them down for fingerprints. She surmised that the fridge had weight sensors that charged the little high priced treat to your room when it was moved. Well strip my gears and call me shiftless, if she wasn't dead on. What will they think of next? Call me a country boy for not figuring that one out. I wonder if the bed is also similarly rigged with little sensors that send activity reports back to hotel comm central. I'd really like to see that printout......... Next time, just for them making me wonder about all of these things, I think I am going to slam that bottle of Fiji water and refill it with tap water. Surely the glass top desk doesn't have pressure sensors..........