A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

"A tiger? In Africa?"

I'm kind of torn when it comes to the subject of zoos. Part of me loves being able to go look at animals I'd likely never get a chance to see otherwise, and taking kids to see an elephant for the first time is pretty awesome. Then there's things like "captivity" and "Canadian bears in a subtropical climate" and "elephant herpes" that are decidedly less so.

So I (mostly) like the Houston Zoo. They do a pretty good job making comfortable habitats for the animals, and there's a fine selection of exotic beasties. We've been member for six years now (thanks, Dad), and on any sub-85 degree weekend, we're probably there. She Who Shall Not Be Named is a big fan of the giraffes and the carousel, and I trust/hope the Notorious VHT will follow suit.

So this video was kind of disappointing. It's zoo director Rick Barongi talking about the new African Forest exhibit that opens next year. Now, I realize they were probably just running some stock animal footage for the presentation, but somebody should have made sure the right ape was showing when Barongi talked about chimps and gorillas, and it probably wasn't a great idea to lead the whole thing off with an animal that isn't even found on the continent.

It reminded me of this:

New York state of mind

John Nova Lomax has a piece up on Hair Balls about how the Bronx Bar in the Rice Village, like George W. Bush, isn't too fond of black people:

The weekend visit to Houston had been going well enough for Army Sergeant Mohammed Sesay. Now stationed at Killeen's Fort Hood, he'd been back in the States for less than a week, after serving for over a year at Camp Bucca prison in Iraq, where he had helped guard the estimated 20,000-30,000 detainees -- many of whom had been transferred there from Abu Ghraib. But now that he was back in America, the Sierra Leonean-American soldier came to Houston to have some fun at the invitation of his friend Lamine Faye, a Houstonian originally from Senegal.

The two West Africans hit several clubs in Midtown and on Washington Avenue on Friday night, and on Saturday started out downtown. All without incident. Their luck would change when they decided to end their evening in Rice Village's Bronx Bar.
[...]
Sesay and Faye arrived around midnight. On their way from their car to the door, they ran into a knot of people -- mostly black and Hispanic -- standing around outside the club. These strangers warned Faye and Sesay to expect trouble. "They told us that we weren't going to be allowed in the club," says Sesay. "They said minorities were not being allowed in."

If Sesay and Faye are telling the truth, it's pretty remarkable. I'm not so naïve that I don't believe racism has been eradicated from Houston, but to practice it so blatantly - in one of Houston's more popular areas and with the apparent tacit approval of the HPD officers present - is just...nuts.

I've been to the Bronx Bar once, and then only because it was part of "B" night on HoustonChick's alphabet of the bars game. We didn't have any trouble getting in, surprise surprise, but it was still early and the appeal of the generic Gotham wannabe ambiance was lost on us. There were maybe a dozen people there apart from us, and I confess I don't recall their ethnic makeup.

Another patron in the article describes waiting 15-20 minutes to get in to the Bronx, which brings up another, lesser gripe of mine: why do people wait so goddamn long to get into a bar? Leaving aside the racist question, there are bazillions of places to drink in this city, and more than a few in the Village for that matter. I've just never understood the mentality behind standing in line for the "privilege" of paying $8 for a bottle of beer.

Especially if there aren't any nekkid ladies.

"Why do they call you 'Meat'?"

A youth almost entirely (mis)spent watching bad movies does strange things to a person, as The Wife and I discovered last night. We were dozing through the local news, specifically the story about how a grand jury declined to indict a Metro cop in a fatal shooting outside the Medical Center. Metro chief Thomas Lambert spoke in support of the officer in question, one R.L. Harrington. That, in and of itself, isn't surprising. No, the interesting part of the story - to me anyway - was Lambert's resemblance to a certain 80s teen comedy villain.

This is Chief Lambert:

This is Wallacetown, FL entrepeneur "Porky" Wallace:

Not pictured: Ms. Beulah Balbricker

I guess the destruction of his riverboat casino at the hands of Pee Wee and Tommy and the gang finally convinced him to turn over a new leaf.

How's your pork?

Gentlemen, start your panic:

The Houston area's first local resident to be diagnosed with swine flu has been confirmed in Fort Bend County.

Officials at Fort Bend County's health department said early Wednesday evening that they just received confirmation of the case from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

The resident, a teenage girl, was not hospitalized and is recovering, said the officials. She is a student in Bellaire at Episcopal High School, which starting Thursday will close through the weekend.

STOP ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION FROM FORT BEND COUNTY!

The confirmation came a half a day after the CDC announced that a nearly 2-year-old Mexico City boy who fell ill in Brownsville and was transported for treatment at Texas Children's Hospital in Houston was the first U.S. death.

According to WHO, 26 cases of swine flu have thus far been confirmed in Mexico. Of those, seven resulted in death. We know nothing of what other factors were involved in those deaths. None of the 128 worldwide cases have so far proven fatal.

Meanwhile. guess what's killed more than 13,000 Americans since January?

Since January, more than 13,000 people have died of complications from seasonal flu, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's weekly report on the causes of death in the nation.

No fewer than 800 flu-related deaths were reported in any week between January 1 and April 18, the most recent week for which figures were available.
[...]
Worldwide, the annual death toll from the flu is estimated to be between 250,000 and 500,000.

Wash your hands, sure, and practice common sense, but can we hold off on the comparisons to 1918 for a bit? At least until the "2009 H1N1 Flu" - as we're being instructed to call it - has shown itself to be more dangerous than tonsilitis?

Otherwise who knows what otherwise preventable tragedies might take place...

"Let me tell you of the days of upper middle-class adventure!"

Suppose your son goes to a local high school, one of the few in the area with a rugby team, which he plays for. And suppose that team bills itself as the "Barbarians." Also suppose you're one of those parents who - inadvisedly - advertises their offspring's names and various activities on the back of their Land Rover for every douchebag with a blog to see.

I mean, I'm glad to hear "Christopher" is a Barbarian and all, but I'm not getting a very rapacious vibe.

Mongol General: Hao! Dai ye! We won again! This is good, but what is best in life?
Mongol: The open steppe, fleet horse, falcons at your wrist, and the wind in your hair.
Mongol General: Wrong! [Christopher]! What is best in life?
[Christopher]: To attend a Young Life meeting, buy a skinny decaf mochaccino, and ask Ashley to the prom.
Mongol General: That is good! That is good.

His Tree of Woe is probably getting sent to his room with no Xbox.

Stop the presses

I've been writing for Hair Balls, the Houston Press blog, for a little less than a year now. It's been fun, and they've been remarkably permissive in allowing me to write about pretty much any stupid thing that pops into my head.

One of my latest stupid ideas was attending WrestleMania XXV. Happily, their permissiveness also extends to the print edition, and I actually have a column in this week's paper (page 11, if you feel like picking up a copy...and you live in Houston).

Anyway, here's the link. Hopefully you'll enjoy the Hornswoggle/Kobe Bryant comparison.

Imperialism rears its ugly head

Maybe I'm missing something:

So "Europa" doesn't denote the source of the beans, but rather the Continent's lingering need to exert dominion over the rest of the globe. It's sad, really.

I suppose I could be reading too much into this.

"Sometimes love don't feel like it should, you make it
Hearst so good"

Hair Balls (the Houston Press blog) is doing a pretty bang-up job covering the layoffs taking place at the Houston Chronicle this week. And I'd say this even if I didn't, you know, write for them.

The Chron buried its own skeletal story and disabled comments on the website article, a decision I'd usualy applaud. 12% job cuts are usually big news in Houston (including a whopping 27% of the editorial staff). Even more so when so many of the choices are - from a local news coverage standpoint - pretty baffling.

- NASA reporter Mark Carreau
- Business reporter Bill Hensel Jr., who covered Continental Airlines
- Editorial board members Claudia Kolker and Veronica Bucio
- Oil beat reporter Lynn Cook
- Brazoria County beat reporter Richard Stewart
- All the college sports beat writers (Michael Murphy (UH), MK Bower (Rice), and Terrence Harris (TSU)
- Foreign/national desk editor Chris Shively
- Fashion/entertainment writer Clifford Pugh
- Religion writer Barbara Karkabi
- Book editor Fritz Lanham

No NASA reporter? No more local college sports coverage not provided by wire reports or unpaid bloggers? No coverage of the non-Metro Houston area? No non-white males on the Editorial board?

I had a Chron blog for about a year (some of you may remember it). It was a not-so subtle attempt to worm my way into the paper as a freelancer, which obviously didn't work. Those in charge politely assured me they'd love to have me come on board, but there just wasn't any money for freelancing. Debates about little white lies and the quality of my writing aside, it doesn't look like there's a lot of money for anything there anymore.

Jeff Cohen's and his fellow VPs' salaries aside, that is.

"You don't mow another guy's lawn!"

Any Houston folks have recommendations on landscapers?

Ike didn't just do a number on the house, it more or less destroyed our lawn. I can handle laying sod, tearing out the old beds and planter boxes and - probably - planting new stuff around the perimeter, but I'm pretty much lost on tilling and grading. I could rent a tiller from Aztec and pick up a half dozen day laborers, but drainage is sort of important here in Swampland.

The Fairsley Difference

Dear Greater Heights Neighborhood,

Please build a real fucking grocery store.

Signed,

The Guy Who Just Stood in Line 20 Minutes to Buy Dairy-Free Ice Cream At The Crappy 11th Street Kroger Because He Can't Find It At the Shitty HEB on 18th or the Creepy Ass Fiesta on Studewood

We're moving back into our house in two weeks after living in an apartment off T.C Jester for almost six months (thanks, Ike!), which means we'll once again be next to the halfway decent Kroger on 43rd. But seriously, where do you people in 77007/77008 get your food?

Save Shriner's Hospital

You'll forgive me if I eschew sarcasm for a moment to talk about the impending closure of Shriner's Hospital. This story from last week's Chronicle lays out the problem:

Shriners Hospital for Children-Galveston will suspend operations to cope with a $3 billion shortfall in the Shriners International endowment fund, the organization's president said Tuesday. Shriners is also suspending reconstruction of hospitals in Los Angeles and St. Louis, Mo., said Ralph Semb, president and chief executive officer of Shriners Hospitals for Children.

Semb said the 30-bed hospital in Galveston would not be closed permanently, but that operations would be suspended and an undetermined number of its about 200 employees laid off until financial conditions improved.

"You get to a point where you just can't afford to bleed anymore," Semb said. "We don't want to close anything, but we have to be fiduciarily responsible for the future of this organization."

The economic downturn and plunge in the stock market dramatically slashed the interest payments from the endowment that supports the 22 Shriners hospitals, he said.

The market decline has shrunk the fund to about $5 billion, which is not providing the $850 million needed annually to support the hospitals, Semb said.

All Galveston hospital employees will be paid through March 31, he said.

The hospital is the only pediatric burn center for the Gulf Coast region, including Latin America. It also provides care for spinal injuries and is one of the only places in the U.S. offering clinical services for cleft lip and palates.

Semb can't expect his laid-off employess to sit around until the economy gets better. These are highly trained and experienced people who will find employment elsewhere, meaning they won't necessarily be around when/if the hospital is up and running again. None of which is any help to children requiring ongoing care after suffering what are often horrifying injuries.

There was a meeting between Semb and Shriner's employees yesterday. It apparently didn't go too well:

It was a somber day for hundreds of Shriners Hospital employees and burn patients in Galveston. Many emerged from a nearly two-hour meeting with the CEO of the hospital feeling like they have lost everything, KPRC Local 2 reported Monday.

"They don't care. I'm feeling they don't care about lives or about the kids," said an emotional Diana Salinas, who has worked as a nursing assistant at Shriners for the past two years.

Her daughter was even more upset about the hospital putting so many people out of work after it was devastated by Hurricane Ike.

"I really feel what they're doing is inhumane. They're sort of taking the easy way out, kicking you while you're down," said Cindy Lu Salinas who is a patient care coordinator.

No one with Shriners Hospital would comment, but last week hospital administrator John Swartwout said that the emergency measure was being taken because Shriners had suffered as a result of Hurricane Ike and the downturn in the economy.
[...]
Meanwhile, some young burn patients and their families are trying to plan their next move.

Shriners officials have told them they could seek treatment at their facilities in Cincinnati and other cities.

Galveston Mayor Lyda Ann Thomas is heading to Washington next week, ostensibly to discuss transportation, but also to talk with Texas Congressfolk and Senators Cornyn and Hutchinson about more funding to rebuild.

Aside from calling your elected representatives and leaving a comment, I'm sort of at a loss about what we can do. And while I may not be a big city financial expert, but supporting a place like Shriner's certainly seems like a better use of taxpayer money than funneling more TARP funds to financial institutions that continue to give bonuses to their executives and shore up their market position rather than issue loans.

No sex please, we're Houstonians

Blowing the lid off nookie, indeed:

The city of Houston claimed a significant victory Wednesday in its effort to stamp out strip clubs and pornographic boutiques that have set up shop too close to neighborhoods.

A state district judge ruled in favor of the city's attempt to permanently shut down The Penthouse Club, 2618 Winrock, and ordered an owner of the establishment to pay $42,000 in legal fees.

"This is a good day for Houstonians that want to protect the decency of our neighborhoods for families, and also want to say no to those businesses that degrade and exploit women for profit," said Mayor Bill White.

"This has been a long battle."

The case was a major test of a new front in Houston's long-running battle to enforce its "sexually-oriented business" ordinance, which has withstood multiple challenges that finally held up under the scrutiny of the U.S. Supreme Court.

The law, which requires such companies to operate at least 1,500 feet from schools, day care centers, parks and churches, has been flouted by strip clubs and porn shops since City Council adopted it in 1997.

But with The Penthouse Club, the city tried a new tack: suing to shutter the business under the city's nuisance laws. Now, the city intends to file a massive lawsuit this month using similar measures to close 30 to 40 of the businesses at once.

I applaud Mayor White in his strenuous campaign to stamp out blue balls and overpriced domestic beer in our fair city. And since he seems so keen on "nuisances," I eagerly await similarly swift action against the church that tolls me out of bed every Sunday morning, the high school whose stadium PA echoes into the next county, the pawn shop with the 50-foot high scrolling neon marquee that looms over my backyard, and the drive-thru ATM beeping incessantly as it provides the random drunk with cash for his 2 AM post-SRO Whataburger run.

Patrick Zummo, a private attorney who represented the city in the matter, said the the case against the clubs, bookstores and massage parlors could take as little as a year to get to trial, far shorter than the previous cases that have been mired in legal wrangling.

"We hope a New Year's resolution will be that these businesses won't allow crime at their locations anymore," Zummo said.
[...]
"We have supported this action in the city in its fight the whole way," said Bart Jones, president of the Briargrove neighborhood association.

"My rule of thumb has been if I can't walk my child in the direction of your business, maybe your business shouldn't be in the area where I raise my child."

You know, I was all set to point out to Zummo that apparently blow jobs and coke in the VIP room are more deserving of expensive city lawsuits than the weekly murders committed at those run-down, windowless bars I drive by every day. Moreso, I was fully prepared to call Jones a self-righteous douchebag who selectively excluded the neighborhood liquor stores and gun re-sellers in describing his Danger Gauntlet, but something happened this weekend and now, like Nick Nolte in 48 Hours, I support their efforts 100%.

Let me back up. There's this Mexican restaurant in my neighborhood called Juanita's that sits next to Solid Platinum, a strip club (note, the preciousness of the metal/gem mentioned in the club's name is often inversely proportional to the tastefulness of the club itself...see also The Gold Cup). We eat at Juanita's occasionally because they have really good cheese enchiladas, and until recently never had any trouble with the...denizens next door.

Last Saturday, however, the horrible agenda of these fishnet-clad fifth columnists was laid bare. The Wife and I were walking into Juanita's with She Who Shall Not Be Named when out of the club's doors burst a group of scantily clad women, brandishing weighted nets, spears, and a Dora the Explorer jam box blaring "Pour Some Sugar On Me." Shouldering past us, they quickly snared SWSNBN before either of us could react. The "exotic dancers" were halfway back to Solid Platinum, already sizing my daughter up with a 5T T-back so she could join their growing legion of toddler strippers, when The Wife, coming to her senses faster than me, single-handedly incapacitated them (I'd already fallen victim to those same sex worker wiles that have brought other men, mightier than myself, so very low). We hightailed it out of there, vowing to fight these cesspools wherever we might find them.

In short, I fully support Mayor White in his - dare I say - crusade to rid Houston of exposed naughty bits that is in no way a cynical ploy to appease the deep-pocketed finger waggers that will be greasing the wheels of his Senatorial campaign.

You should see Itchy

I'm watching the Texans doing their best to cough the game up to Green Bay when I hear what sounds like a baby crying outside the apartment. Not having seen any actual infants in residence during our stay in Melrose Place East, I naturally think the cat has escaped. A quick circuit of the place finds Ripley snoozing on SWSNBN's bed, so I head outside and discover the source of the noise, a yowling neighborhood stray I dubbed the Feline Lon Chaney, Sr. (click to enlarge):

The shot was taken from about 25 feet away, as the subject was (probably justifiably) wary of strangers, but it sure looks like somebody dumped some kind of chemical/solvent on him, unless there's another means of removing a cat's ear and turning the surrounding fur white that hasn't occurred to me.

Now, I'm not above occasionally spritzing Ripley with the water bottle to get her off the dining room table, but...jesus.

"Who's strangling the cat?"

I'd be lying if I said I didn't (very) occasionally enjoy the karaoke. This weekend, for example, an old friend of mine is having his regularly scheduled birthday trek to Genji for sake and heartless butchering of various Pogues and Bee Gees classics. In my capacity as a writer for Hair Balls, however, I sometimes have to be more of an asshole, as was the case here.

If Buddha, Mohammed, and Jesus Christ joined hands and strolled down Westheimer turning automobiles into unicorns while singing "Blasphemous Rumors" I don't think it would get as much coverage as that infernal karaoke machine at George Bush Intercontinental Airport (including right here at Hair Balls). And so, to commemorate this latest attempt to put Houston on the cultural map, here are some memorable karaoke scenes from the movies.

5. Duets (20000

I just returned from a meeting with Paul Krugman, Alan Greenspan, and the ghost of John Maynard Keynes, and they all assured me America's current economic crisis is divine retribution for resurrecting Huey Lewis' career.

And so on.

No election home

Voted today. Walked to the Harris County Administration Building at 1001 Preston, got in line at 10:24, was out the door at 10:29. The only glitch wa caused by my last name, which neither the DPS nor Paul Bettencourt can spell correctly.

As for who I voted for, I don't think there's any secret about my Presidential leanings. So of course I wrote in LaRouche.

In Valhalla there is no beer

Via Hair Balls, which I am poised to make my triumphant return to Real Soon Now, comes this disturbing tidbit from Rice's Thresher:

Valhalla, Rice's graduate student pub, is closed indefinitely because of noncompliance with the dry campus policy that took effect during Hurricane Ike. Rice University Police Department Sergeant Carla Barnette said the pub violated alcohol restrictions that applied to the entire campus, which includes all graduate student institutions.

Valhalla manager David Fortunato said he could not comment on the matter, but that the official story was that the pub was closed for renovation.

The no-alcohol mandate began last Friday in preparation for Hurricane Ike and ended at noon Monday. The case is currently under review by the university, and the pub will remain closed until further notice, Barnette said.

I like to think Fortunato at some point cried, "For the love of god, Leebron!"* But it doesn't really work.

I only drank at Valhalla a few times. The most memorable, for me, was when I was accompanied by The Wife and several of her friends. Their presence raised the male:female ratio to about 40:4, which made for an amusing evening.

* As in, Rice Universtity President David Leebron

"There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees"

Checked in with most of our friends this morning. Happily, just about all of them reported nothing more severe than some limbs down and power outages.* Good news all around, yes?

Then some folks went to check on our place. The news was...not so good.

That big-ass tree leaning over is a 60-year old pine (right next to a charming brick well) that, until last night, was perched majestically in our front yard.

Wait, there's more...

Note the intricate and pervasive root system. What this means, to those of you ignorant of the finer botanical nuances, is that one tree so intertwined will tend to take down those in close proximity should it fall.

This is a side view. Note how the original window (with a pane replaced by yours truly following Rita) held together in spite of coniferous intrusion.

Finally, here's what I call the Money Shot:

That's my daughter's room. The reason I can write about this with such jocularity right now is because she wasn't in that room at the time.

Oh sure, you say, chances are she'd have been in the master bedroom in the back with The Wife. Much safer, yes?

That back corner is the master bedroom.

I'm not looking forward to dealing with insurance companies, contractors, and builders for the next six months, but my family's safe. I can laugh off the impending house woes every time I kiss SWSNBN good night here in our hotel room. One thing we've learned from the last couple years is; shit can always get worse. It's going to take more than a tree sitting in our house to throw us off. So once again, fuck you Ike.

Though if anybody had some non-Gulf Coast job prospects they wanted to lob my way, I'd be all ears.

*The Thing That Walks Like a Man, being the contrarian bastard he is, has a rather severe crack in one wall (thanks to a tree falling on a window unit A/C) and some rather unpleasant wiring issues.

"Why don't we do something to take our minds off the storm?"

"Ooh, a Rubik's Cube!"

The Wife and SWSNBN made it here last night. We spent pretty much all of today alternating between walking the beach, swimming in the pool, and napping (thanks to the several maragaritas consumed at lunch). All in all, not too bad a vacation, as long as you don't consider what's going on back home.

As of 9 PM CST on Friday, power was still on at our house. I don't expect that to continue, and I wouldn't be surprised if we extended our vacation a few days to give the necessary personnel in Houston time to start getting things taken care of.

Thanks again to everyone who's commented/e-mailed/called/texted to make sure we're okay. We are. Our thoughts are with everybody still in the Houston metro area, and we hope y'all stay safe.

I try not to watch CNN and the Weather Channel, but my hurricane compulsion usually wins out. I keep seeing footage of the fishing pier and the Flagship and Gaido's and hoping everybody on the island is okay. I hope those giant pines in our yard hold up. I hope nobody floods. I hope, I hope.

It's gonna be a long night for everyone. Take care. Catch you on the flipside.

crIKEy

I'm starting to get sick of living on the fucking Gulf Coast, frankly:

Hurricane Ike's turn toward the Houston area spurred emergency officials this morning to call for a mandatory evacuation of residents in areas that will be subject to a massive storm surge.

Galveston Mayor Lyda Ann Thomas also expanded the evacuation order there to cover the entire island. In addition, Chambers County, which had initially ordered only the evacuation of low-lying businesses and homes, this morning ordered the entire county to evacuate by noon, and a voluntary evacuation has been called for in Liberty County.

Harris County Judge Ed Emmett called for mandatory evacuations of low-lying areas starting at noon today. Those residents are in evacuation zones A and B, specifically ZIP codes 77058, 77059, 77062, 77520, 77546, 77571, 77586 and 77598.

Emmett asked all other Harris County residents to prepare to shelter in place, saying residents whose homes could be inundated by storm surges needed time and room to get to safety.

In an ironically fortuitous turn of events, we made vacation plans to go to Tampa to visit my grandmother this weekend about six months ago. I'm posting this from Belleair Beach, as it happens, so sometimes timing works out in my favor. However, to add more bad news to this weekend, my mother and I actually bumped our flights up to last night because my grandmom had taken a turn for the worse. Unfortunately, she passed away before we could get here.

I'll have a more fitting post about her later. Right now, I'm anxiously awaiting the call from The Wife that she and SWSNBN have made their flight out. After that, I plan on spending a good chunk of the coming weekend sitting on a deck chair with a drink, watching the surf and the pelicans, and trying not to think about what Ike is doing to my house.

To all my friends in Houston, whether you're sheltering in place or bugging out, please be safe.

And if someone wanted to drive by our place on Sunday morning and let me know if I need to extend our stay here, that'd be cool too.

Evil Ed

There's a tropical storm in the Gulf, and we in the Houston area know what that means: buy lots of gas; descend like locusts upon your local supermarket/Home Depot/Wal-Mart for water/batteries/candles/shotgun shells; move the pets into the attic; and prepare for widespread looting, vandalism, and cannnibalism.

Edouard will apparently make landfall tomorrow morning as a strong tropical storm or a minimal Category 1 hurricane. Unlike the case of the Rita debacle, I don't think many area residents apart from those on the coast are going to be bugging out. Here are some links for those who, like me, go into Obsessive Storm Tracker mode every time this shit starts up:

Eric Berger's SciGuy blog
Dr. Jeff Masters' WunderBlog
KPRC's hurricane page - I tend to loathe the local news and their usual panic-mode histrionics, but Frank Billingsley is consistently levelheaded. And he has great hair.
My own "hurricane porn" blog entry - Which, in an abject failure of self-promotion, I failed to repost this year

I'd suggest a hurricane party, but I probably have to be at work Wednesday.

More Balls for your consumption

My second Hair Balls entry, titled Hollywood Destroys Houston: The Top Five, is up for your perusal. As always, we welcome your comments.

My Balls are always bouncing

Earlier this month, there was an entry on Off the Kuff about how Rich Connelly of the Houston Press was taking his weekly column "Hair Balls" online, replacing the HouStoned blog. I need to buy Chuck a beer next time I see him, because had I not read that I probably wouldn't have known to fire an e-mail off to Rich, and I wouldn't now be a contributor. My first Hair Balls entry is a list of the top five films filmed in Houston not set in Houston. Go check it out and leave lots of fawning feedback .

Seriously...fawning. I need the money.

The site updates several times a day, so check often. And I'll be sure to annoy everyone here with reminders as well.

"The lights, the noise, the letter X...it's all designed to inflame the senses!"

So, the Alphabet Game. I could explain it for you, but I figured I might as well let Jessica do it:

My friend Carla and I have both just finished some major hurdles in our life. While in them, our social life was somewhat limited. Is this right for two cute chicks in their (very) early 30s? Hell, no.

We needed a way to launch back into the social scene with fierce abandon. So, we decided to do the "ALPHABET OF BARS!" We'll go to a different bar, each starting with the letters of the alphabet (in order of course) and chronicle our experience.

She and I expect to have tons of fun, discover new places, have great drinks, get lots of embarrassing pictures, find cute boys, (not necessarily in that order) and document the whole damn thing.

And so she has. The Wife and I were present at 'B' night, where I'm...proud to say I was the first to use "bestiality" and "Beelzebub" in conversation. This might sound impressive, except those are pretty much part of my everyday vocabulary.

Stay tuned for week 27, when the Alpbahet Game switches to Cyrillic and we all move to Kiev.

The Hell of Endlessly Signing Autographs

Kung Fu Panda screened tonight. As Dreamworks cartoons go, it wasn't bad. 'Course, when your competition consists of shit like Shark Tale and Madagascar, that's not an accolade I'd go out of my way to publicize.

I got there late, thanks to a few last minute beers at Harlow's traffic, so I didn't know a member of the cast was in attendance (though it would explain why all those seats were blocked off). Upon emerging from the theater, I saw it was none other James "Lo Pan" Hong himself:

Houston's got a lot of hells. And Lo Pan's got a lot of daughters.

And yes, of course I got a picture.

He said I was the only person to identify themselves as big fan of Big Trouble in Little China, and his mystical powers are obviously still in full effect, as he somehow managed to sign the picture a full day before I actually met him. At least he didn't say, "Shut up, Mr. Vonder Haar. You were not brought upon this earth to 'get it.'"

"We'll even provide you with a prescription bong."

"Do you want the wizard, or the skull?"

The Kingwood teenager's story of decapitating a corpse and using the head to smoke marijuana was so outlandish that at first Houston Police Department senior police officer Jim Adkins did not believe it.

Yet, Kevin Wade Jones Jr., 17, appeared almost indifferent as he relayed the bizarre description of his and two friends' activities at an Humble area graveyard, Adkins said.

"I just doubted it because it's very morbid, and I couldn't see anybody doing something like this," Adkins said Thursday.

Not until police went to the home of another Kingwood 17-year-old, Matthew Richard Gonzalez, did the officer believe the tale.

"He regurgitated in his plate of food when I asked him about it," Adkins said. "So I knew there was some truth to the story."
[...]
Houston police believe the teens disturbed the grave of an 11-year-old boy who died in 1921.

The child was buried at an unmarked cemetery believed to be reserved for black veterans and their families, Adkins said.

I knew some real winners in college, including a couple of guys I worked with who were in the occasional habit of making off with headstones from local cemetaries. Rumor was they'd eventually ramped up their desecration to actual corpse abuse, but by then I'd quit the College Republicans.

Can't you get human skulls online? And is it true that ones from India always have perfect teeth?

A few things:

Jones claimed he and his friends used shovels to dig up the body and removed the corpse's head with a garden tool, Adkins said. Jones also revealed he and the other two boys took the severed head to the juvenile's home, where they used the skull as a "bong" to smoke marijuana, the officer said.

They would then use the marijuana to "get high," which would potentially lead to fits of "the giggles" and "munchies." Finally, the boys might listen to "Pink Floyd" before "passing out."

The three boys, all home-schooled, have also been charged in connection with the vehicle break-in.

"Why always Boris?"

Just about every time I see a movie at the Edwards Marq*E the ticket taker is this interesting fellow named - for purposes of this discussion - "Gavrilo." Gavrilo is of indeterminate European origin, though his accent leads me to suspect Slavic ancestry. He's in his mid-40s and looks like a cross between Eastern Promises vintage Viggo Mortensen and that big bastard Bruce Willis kills in the elevator in Die Hard 3. He has a flattop, meaty forearms, and a number of distinctly homemade looking tats, leading me to believe he's either:

1) A Soviet-era gangster on the lam from Jim Belushi and Arnold Schwarzenegger, or

2) Ex-Serbian Special Forces. His sentence for wartime atrocities? Working as the only guy over the age of 25 in an American movie theater.

Still, the dude says 'hi' to me and waves me in without question whenever I show up for a screening, and I suspect he'd do the same even on non-promo nights. I'm not too keen on testing that, however; because he remains, along with Not Suge Knight from Mission Burrito, one of the only elements of potential danger in my lame Wonder Bread life.

With apologies to Rick Blaine

I don't mind a sexual predator masquerading as the spiritual head of a Christian school, I object to a cut-rate one:

Tamiku [Robertson] is talking about her conversations with the co-founder of Parkway Christian School in Spring. Lavern Jordan offered to waive $300 in enrollment fees at Parkway Christian School in exchange for sex.
[...]
Jordan: "Excuse me and I don't mean to be so blunt but I am talking about f------ you, Tamiku."

Robertson: "You talking about what?"

Jordan: "F------ you."

Jordan: "For the $300 I would expect maybe we could get together several times, you think?"

What balls. Not only does the guy prey on mothers who want to get their kids into Parkway, he's haggling over how far those three bills will get him. Later on, Jordan also balks at actually getting a hotel room, suggesting they just "park out back" of the local La Quinta.

I love this town.

Maybe it was something I said

In case it isn't readily apparent from my crappy digital camera's output, two of our neighbors are selling their houses:

It's a bummer, because we're friends with both households, especially the next-door folks. Trey and his family have been regular guests at our cookouts, and I've drank many a beer and lost many a hand of poker at his table. They'll be missed.

But not so much that I'm going to stop screaming "Allāhu Akbar! out the window every time he shows someone the house. That's payback for four years of annoying barking dachsund.

He's gotten pretty quick about hustling prospective buyers inside.

"It's the cops!"
"Worse...the Police Cops."

Saw Street Kings - that new bad cop/bad cop movie starring Keanu Reeves and Forest Whitaker - tonight. I commented to a fellow critic that it seemed to have been written in 1988 to capitalize on the Lethal Weapon franchise. He replied that casting Eric Roberts and Don "The Dragon" Wilson could only improve the finished product.

Yeah, it wasn't good.

There was one curious incident, however. At one point, Reeve's character is questioning a gang member (played by rapper The Game) about the murder of his ex-partner, augmenting his questions with multiple (like, dozens of) blows from a phone book. Now, tonight's screening was sponsored by 97.9 The Box, a local hip-hop radio station, and the audience was not so coincidentally about 75% African-American. The overwhelming response to a fairly blatant depiction of white cop on black suspect brutality? Wild cheers and applause. I was a bit surprised, especially since a Rodney King reference had already been made.

Maybe there were a lot of 50 Cent fans in attendance.

"You see what happens, Larry?"

Oh, now this just breaks my heart:

Borders, the nation's second-largest bookseller, said Thursday it may put itself up for sale and has lined up $42.5 million in financing to help the chain continue operations.

Borders has lost market share both to online companies and to Wal-Mart Stores Inc.
[...]
After postponing its scheduled fourth-quarter earnings results Wednesday, the company reported net income of $64.7 million, or $1.10 a share, compared with a loss of $73.6 million, or $1.22, during the same period last year.

Revenue fell 2 percent to $1.35 billion, from $1.37 billion.

Analysts polled by Thomson Financial expected profits of $1.42 per share on sales of $1.37 billion.

Quarterly results included a $7 million loss from the sale of Irish and British businesses for $13 million.

In yet another sign of pressures on retailers nationwide, Borders suspended quarterly dividends, which it will plow into operations.
[...]
Ann Arbor-based Borders said J.P. Morgan Securities Inc. and Merrill Lynch & Co. have been retained as the company's financial advisers to assist the company as it explores strategic alternatives.

The company said it can give no assurances that a transaction of any kind will occur.

Revenues, shmevenues. Everybody knows this is spectral vengeance for the W. Alabama store knocking down my beloved Ale House.

All good things...

22 in a row is still pretty damn good, but not good enough to overcome the Celtics:

The Rockets lost to Celtics tonight at Toyota Center and were unable to extend their club record 22-win streak to 23 games.

That's some fine coverage. Then again, the game just ended five minutes ago.

I'm not much of a basketball fan, but it was hard not to get caught up in the Rockets' run, especially when they kept it up even after Yao went down 12 games in (and because football's over and baseball hasn't started yet).

And it would've been nice to see more than 50% of the crowd sticking around for the end of the game. Fine, they were down 20 with two minutes to go; stick it out and give the players a hand. They still have the second longest win streak in NBA history.

But if I was a gambling man (uh, pay no attention to those half dozen Final Four brackets I've filled out), I probably would've bet on the Celtics tonight. More interesting - and more ominous for the West - is Boston's performance on this road trip. They beat San Antonio last night, took the starch out of Houston's shirts tonight, and take on the Mavericks Thursday. That's potential bad news for the West's prospects in the post-season (and a consarned embarrassment to Texas pride).

One win away from a perfect NFL season, two World Series titles in three years, the best record in the NBA...when the hell did Boston get so good at everything?

So he wasn't drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's

But was his hair perfect?

Werewolf bandit snared in north Harris County

A man who donned a werewolf mask inside a convenience store Wednesday wasn't engaging in some late Halloween festivities.

Mackinley Breeden, 28, demanded cash, not candy, about 11:30 a.m. when he stormed into a Circle K store in the 5100 block of FM 1960, Harris County deputies said.

The knife-wielding Breeden told the clerk not to move, then grabbed the money from the register and fled. A passerby saw the clerk chasing Breeden from the store, deputies said.

"He (Breeden) still had the mask on," said Harris County Sheriff's Sgt. Noel Araguz. "So, (the witness) put two-and-two together and said it was a robbery."

Rarely has the disconnect between headline and story disappointed me so. At least the savvy passerby realized that lycanthropy only manifests itself after dark. Stupidity, on the other hand, knows no circadian rhythm.

Shouting at the devil

I know Motley Crue's Nikki Sixx wason a book tour promoting The Heroin Diaries, his collection of journal entries documenting his life between Christmas '86 and Christmas '87 (which includes the period I saw them play the Summit with Tim, among others), but is he coming to Houston?

I ask because I swear I just saw him driving a Ford Taurus down Westheimer at Dunlavy.

On second thought, it doesn't seem very likely. There are a shitload of tattoo parlors in that area, however.

"So this is Planet Houston."

Never have I wished I had a big box of signboard letters in my trunk more than when I passed one of our many local Baptist churches today:

Or at least just a 'Z.'

How 'bout this heat?

Nobody's complaining about two months of rainfall now, I reckon.

"Murderous," "bloody hot," "fiery" and "worse than Dallas" were how some portrayed Sunday's sweltering heat, which reached 102 degrees at George Bush Intercontinental Airport.

The combined humidity and temperature created a feels-like heat index of 112 and led the city to declare a heat emergency, the first this year. Many stayed indoors, leaving pools and parks eerily empty during the hottest part of the day.

Houstonians face dangerous heat again today, with temperatures expected to break the 100-degree mark and no relief in sight until Wednesday, forecasters said.

I chose this last weekend to accompany my friend Sir Not Appearing In This Blog and several of his co-workers to the Houston-Chicago pre-season game on Saturday. Naturally for the guy who built Smogdor, tailgating was involved. Not quite as naturally, he and co-worker BT recently purchased a firetruck for just such occasions.

Big Red, the name under which the non-air conditioned, emissions violating monstrosity travels, is a 1971 Mack. Beyond that, I sort of blurred on the details. Did I mention it was really freaking hot?

Obviously, the truck didn't look originally look like this. They've put a ton of work into it already, and by the start of the regular season, they want to have a couple pits installed. I watched some guys working on this one, which I believe is going up top:

In the meantime, they're "making do" with this number:

It has a big brother lurking somewhere. As there were only going to be eight or ten of us in attendance, the little one seemed sufficient.

After some minor prep, which included securing the flags and - in a rare sign of maturity - purchasing more water than beer, we headed down to Reliant Stadium around 5 PM. The reading on the thermometer at the shop when we left was a crisp 105.

Once we rounded everybody up, it didn't take long to make camp. And those tents would come in handy when a freak storm blew up over us around 6 PM.

The view from the top.

The game, like all pre-season affairs, was essentially pointless. New Texans QB Matt Schaub played two series, while Bears starting goat Rex Grossman lasted one less. The "new" Houston offense looked suspiciously like the old, and we went back to the beer and food at halftime.

One of the few existing pictures of BT (center). I think the last guy to take his photo got stabbed in a port-a-john, so I hope everyone appreciates the risk I'm taking.

I don't know who the dork with the hat is, he just kind of showed up.

We're in the habit of being one of the last vehicles out of the lot. I'm not sure that's the best way to commemorate a 20-19 loss, but I wasn't driving.

I made it home a little after midnight, took the greatest shower of my life (not counting a few during my sexually adventurous college days), and collapsed. I think it's safe to say I'll be joining Big Red and the crew a couple more times this season, but probably not until the temperature dips into the relatively frigid 80s.

"There's flooding down in Texas"

"All of the telephone lines are down:"

The Fourth of July turned out to be another soggy day for much of Texas, with 20 counties in Southeast Texas -- including Harris County -- under a flash flood watch that has been extended until Thursday afternoon.

An upper level low pressure system combined with abundant moisture to produce scattered to numerous showers and thunderstorms across the area today, the National Weather Service said.

Rainfall amounts of two to four inches, with isolated amounts of four to six inches can be expected in the watch area by this evening, the weather service said.

The ground in the area is already saturated and any additional heavy rainfall could produce flash flooding.
[...]
The rain that has fallen for nearly two consecutive weeks will continue into the weekend.

In the first three days of July it's rained 1.66 inches at Intercontinental airport and 1.82 inches at Hobby airport.

We've had rain for - literally - three weeks straight. This is somewhere on the spectrum between the folks in central Texas, who've been getting millennial level rainfall, and most of the rest of the country, which is under some variety of drought/fire hazard warning. All things being equal, I'll take a little sogginess.

But it's not all bad news:

The Houston-area temperature is also five to 10 degrees below the average of 93 degrees. Temperatures today are expected to be in the low to mid-80's.

So we got that going for us. Which is nice.

La Dolce Fino

I'm trying really hard here, but I just can't seem to get all that worked up about this story:

As soon as the toll hike story first broke, we set out to do what many of our viewers asked -- investigate if anyone gets a freebie. We asked the toll road for records under state law.

Last week we broke the first story -- 5,500 free tags were out there and all toll road employees got to use the EZ tags for a free commute. Late Wednesday afternoon, we got a computer disk detailing every single free toll for a single year and at first blush, the numbers appear to be staggering.

In one month -- May of 2007 -- there were more than 172,000 free tolls. And the change adds up quickly to $150,000 in one month. If that number holds true, imagine how many millions in tolls have been given away in the fifteen years the freebees have been in effect.

Now remember -- some of the tags are given to emergency vehicles and toll road businesses, but in the few minutes we had to look at just one month, we saw the signs of potential abuse -- tags used very late at night or in the middle of the night.

We looked first at west side cops who have dozens of free tags. You'd expect them to travel the Sam Houston Tollway on the west side, but you see tolls in the south and southeast -- far outside the beats.

Again, we are just starting to look at the data, but we wanted to tell you were on top of it. And as we got the records, the toll road had another announcement.

Two months of policy review is apparently enough for the toll road bosses to figure out they should stop giving away free rides that county leaders never approved. It's been a great perk -- a free commute if you work for the Harris County Toll Road Authority. Hundreds of employees had it for 15 years. Not anymore.

A memo Wednesday morning told toll road employees they'll have to pay like everyone else starting right now. The toll road was questioning its own free ride policy at the same time as it was raising toll rates. But once they wanted more money from you, Eyewitness News wanted to know who was getting freebies. And just days after we got that list, the freebies ended.

This story isn't quite synched with the one that aired on ABC13's broadcast tonight (linked on the same page), which said a mere 650 of those 5,500 free tags were given to HCTRA employees. There was also no breakdown on charges for emergency and police vehicles versus those of Toll Road Authority employees, so it's impossible to tell just how much of the "staggering" $150,000/month total is attributed to HCTRA workers.

I don't doubt there are abuses, and the HCTRA's policy probably stipulated the free tags were only to be used for commuting to and from work and for Toll Road Authority-related business, but look at the numbers: 172000 free tolls / 5500 free tags = 31.3 tolls per tag. I'm no big city mathematician, and even allowing that not every tag is used every day (not that we were given any concrete numbers for any of this) that's not even two per workday in May. This is a scandal?

The story that aired on TV was headed up by ABC13's Ted Oberg and APCB favorite Wayne Dolcefino, who solemnly informed us of this injustice while conveniently ignoring both the common practice of employees getting company perks (do ABC13 employees get discounts for Disneyland resorts and cruises?) and the generally shitty pay earned by county employees.

Maybe it's just me, but my righteous indignation meter failed to register on this.

SB 419 Update - 5/17

Everyone's favorite Senate Bill, 419 (previously discussed here, here, and here), is currently languishing in Calendars. If it doesn't get out of there, it will die. At the least, the insurance industry gets to avoid covering even the relatively meager expenses for speech and occupational therapy. At the most, any chance of getting ABA put back in is lost for good.

I've listed the Calendars Committee membership below. I know I've already asked a lot, but if you're represented by any of the following people (hell, even if you aren't, it's a committee after all), please call them and ask them to put SB 419 on the calendar. It'll only take a couple of minutes.

Rep. Beverly Woolley - (512) 463-0696
Rep. Norma Chavez - (512) 463-0622
Rep. Dan Branch - (512) 463-0367
Rep. Myra Crownover - (512) 463-0582
Rep. Dawnna Dukes - (512) 463-0506
Rep. Gary Elkins - (512) 463-0722
Rep. Ryan Guillen - (512) 463-0416
Rep. Mike "Tuffy" Hamilton - (512) 463-0412
Rep, Larry Taylor...oh, never mind
Rep. Sylvester Turner - (512) 463-0554
Rep. Corbin Van Arsdale - (512) 463-0661

How convenient that Taylor is on both the committees that have screwed this bill. In any event, we won't know if we don't try, right?

Yeah.

Art Carfunkel

Headed downtown with Sir Not Appearing In This Blog and our respective daughters yesterday for the Art Car Parade. I know there's been talk of corporate sponsorship ruining the spirit of the parade (which is funny coming from the newspaper of the city with the original Starbucks across from a Starbucks), but we still had a groovy time.

That said, it does seem like we get more and more cars each year. There were over 300 this time around, and some were rather half-assed. The good ones, however, were pretty damn good.

But first, I'm getting one of these:

That's a Cruzin Cooler: 500 watts, 13 MPH, and 24 12-oz cans of pure awesomeness.

Speaking of pure awesomeness, George Clinton was the Grand Marshal:

And then the parade really began. There were all manner of great cars - both classic Art Car standards and new entries - but there were a few I wanted to point out, including the Dancing Queen, the converted school bus that I feel certain would've been The Thing That Walks Like A Man's favorite entry:

Next up, one of my personal favorites. And all due respect to the Vroom Vroom Room (and the one picture I got of them was hopelessly blurry), but I really enjoyed the car made of Billy Bass and Rocky Lobsters synched up to sing opera:

I guess I'm just a hoosier at heart.

Finally, I had to point out what I thought was either a gross oversight or a joke in somewhat poor taste on the part of the organizers. To wit: the placement of the Jewish car behind the car for the Klein (Katy? Kincaid?) German Club van:

Okay, maybe I was the only one who noticed.

A fine time was had by all, and while there are - admittedly - a number of commercially sponsored entries (Starbucks, McDonald's, the Houston Chronicle), the Art Car Parade remains one of the few events in Houston that is free to attend and that allows people to bring a whatever food they like, lawn chairs and blankets, and a cooler of tall boys (*cough*). Try to do the same at any of the city's other festivals. Or an Astros or Texans game.

"Do you know what happens to a toad when it's hit by a tornado?"

"The same thing that happens to everything else:"

The worst-case scenario for a large tornado striking Houston makes a hurricane look like high surf.

Spinning at 225 mph, the tornado touches down in southwest Houston, skirting the Astrodome and barreling through parts of River Oaks, Montrose and the Heights before exiting the city's northeast edge.

At the end of its run, the tornado will have killed as many as 23,700 people whose residences and business cannot withstand the deadly wind.

That's the conclusion of severe storm researchers using new data to model the effects of large tornadoes striking U.S. metropolitan areas such as Houston, Chicago and Dallas. The researchers say there is little data to know for sure how many people would die in urban structures in a large tornado.

River Oaks? Montrose? What kind of contrarian tornado aims at the wealthy areas of town? Do we really believe a twister would deliberately avoid the fine trailer parks just to our east? Or the low rent housing in our southern neighborhoods? Why must the beautiful people always suffer?

Such a thing has never happened in Houston. But if it did, it could become the deadliest natural disaster ever to strike Texas, perhaps even eclipsing the 8,000 dead from the Galveston Hurricane of 1900.

With a hurricane, people have advance warning, and the gridlock associated with Hurricane Rita aside, generally can get out of the way.

The warning time for tornadoes, is measured in minutes rather than hours or days. The average tornado moves at about 30 mph.

Because the odds of a killer tornado are relatively remote, Houston emergency planners are correct to focus their efforts on hurricanes rather than tornadoes, said Bill Read, meteorologist-in-chief at the Houston/Galveston office of the National Weather Service.

"It is challenging enough for those in emergency preparedness to get people to be concerned about floods and hurricanes -- both of which have a proven track record in our city for taking lives and destroying large amounts of property, without specifically going after a long-track F4 scenario," he said.

The tornado that hit New Orleans earlier this month has gotten everyone a mite squirrely. Yes, if an F4 tornado touched down in metro Houston and stayed on the ground for any length of time, it could be devastating. So could a nuclear airburst over downtown, a category 5 hurricane coming up the Ship Channel, or Martian canisters dropping onto the Galleria. Short of buying an NOAA radio (which you probably ought to have during hurricane season around here anyway), I don't know that we need to panic.

Or distract ourselves further from the Anna Nicole Smith hearings.

Bumper crop

I spend a lot of time on the road these days, so here's a related quiz. Of the following crappy bumper/rear windshield stickers I saw Monday, which is the most obnoxious and why?

1.

2.

3. The last entry was simply 8" high letters on the rear window of some guy's pick-up that spelled out "Panty Dropper," implying that the generic looking F-150 in question causes women to step out of their undergarments. I laughed so hard at the balding jagoff driving I thought he was going to follow me home and...I don't know...drop his panties or something.

Going down rodeo with a shotgun

The concert lineup for the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo was announced earlier today. As we at APCB like to do every year, here's a not-at-all bitchy overview of the "musical" acts involved (via HandStamp):

Tuesday, Feb. 27 -- George Strait
Wednesday, Feb. 28 -- Los Lonely Boys
Thursday, March 1 -- Reba McEntire

Ah, the classics (well, except for Los Lonely Boys, who are apparently too big an act to be shackled by the confines of Go Tejano Day). This will mark George's 20th Rodeo appearance, tying him with Charlie Pride. This will be Reba's 17th.

N00b.

Friday, March 2 - Black Heritage Day with Natalie Cole and KEM

I was pretty excited when I saw this, though a little confused. I mean, only one of the Holograms was black (Shana). Then I read it again.

Saturday, March 3 -- Clay Walker
Sunday, March 4 -- The Cheetah Girls and Hannah Montana

I am at least marginally grateful She Who Shall Not Be Named is not old enough to demand attendance at this one. Though it might be gratifying to kick Hannah's dad in the nuts.

Monday, March 5 -- Josh Turner

All I know about Josh Turner is that "Josh Turner" spelled backwards is "Lon Nol."

Tuesday, March 6 -- Gretchen Wilson
Wednesday, March 7 -- Sheryl Crow

Tough choice, ladies. Which vaguely empowered female singer/songwriter do you want to check out after getting in the X-Terra with the girlfriends and having margaritas at Pappasitos? The one who traded singing heartfelt love songs for lightweight crap like "Soak Up the Sun?" Or the one who shows some talent, but is inextricably linked with the Ass Clowns of the Universe, AKA Big and Rich?

Call me when Neko Case is on the bill.

Thursday, March 8 -- Alan Jackson
Friday, March 9 -- Pat Green
Saturday, March 10 -- Martina McBride

Now we enter that part of the rodeo lineup I like to call Hell on Earth. I know Jackson gets credit for writing his own stuff and standing out from the hairdo country acts of today, but I still can't stand his music. Pat Green always seemed to me like he might someday throw off the shackles of frat boy expectations and...I don't know...turn out more like Robert Earl Keen than Richard Marx.

I was so naive then.

Sunday, March 11 -- Go Tejano Day with Pesado and Emilio

Given my eminent respect for any artist who only goes by their first name, I think I'll give this a pass. Like I was going anyway.

Monday, March 12 -- Spring Break Stampede with Sugarland
Tuesday, March 13 -- Spring Break Stampede with Toby Keith
Wednesday, March 14 - Spring Break Stampede with Rascal Flatts

Sweet zombie jesus, but this might break the record set for Most Consecutive Days of Excruciatingly Shitty Music (previously held by Woodstock '99). Sugarland is bland garbage, Rascal Flatts does a good Take That! impression, but they're about as country as O-Town, and Toby Keith...Toby Keith is a Ford truck man, which you're bound to remember when the marquee reminds you "FORD presents Tony Keith."

What an outlaw.

Thursday, March 15 - Spring Break Stampede -- Beyoncé
Friday, March 16 - Spring Break Stampede -- Dierks Bentley

Wow. Natalie Cole gets a Friday night slot, but Houston's own Beyonce has to play opposite Grey's Anatomy? That's cold.

Oh, and uh, Dierks Bentley sucks,

Saturday, March 17 - Brooks & Dunn
Sunday, March 18 - ZZ Top

Of course, you have your choice of whimper: the bubblegum country duo who outlived their usefulness ten years ago, or the semi-retired tres hombres, who at least have had the decency to fade in semi-obscurity with their dignity (mostly) intact.

"Well, I was sure you'd be on foot, because you always say public transportation is for losers."

I don't read the Houston Press, our local weekly, as much as I used to. I find the old excuses work the best: no time, not enough time, and even less time available to read it. There's also probably an element of professional jealousy, meaning: I'm jealous of those who write professionally. I suppose it helps that I generally like the quality of writing I see in their film reviews, Wilonsky and Weinkauf especially.

So it's always a nice surprise to come upon something like John Nova Lomax's chronicle of his sojourn down the length of Westheimer, on foot, with his friend Geoffrey "Uncle Tick" Muller. How daunting a task is this?

Not from the Loop to Midtown, nor from the Beltway either. By "all the way," I mean just that -- start from where the No. 53 "Westheimer Limited" Metro bus turns around at West Oaks Mall and Highway 6, and then pound the pavement of the entire 16-plus miles, eight zip codes and three U.S. congressional districts, all the way to where Westheimer gives way to Elgin in Midtown.

You might be asking yourself why someone would take on such a challenge. The day after the slog, awaking with blistered feet and sore to the bone, I was wondering the same thing myself. I doubted anyone else had done it, for starters. I also did it because I wanted the physical challenge. I have recently lost about 20 or 30 pounds, and while I'm still no Lance Armstrong -- I could probably stand to shed about 30 or 40 more pounds -- I felt my relatively svelte self needed a test. I just hoped my thighs wouldn't chafe, and thanks to Dr. Atkins, they didn't.

But above all else, I wanted to see if I would gain any insights into H-Town's soul. Westheimer, more than any other thoroughfare, embodies Houston's car-enamored, zoning-free ethos, a damn-near 20-mile phantasmagoria of strip malls, storage facilities, restaurants, big-box retail, office parks, apartment complexes, strip clubs, malls, supermarkets and the occasional church.

Indeed, one could live their entire life purely within the confines of this fabled road and never want for anything, from quality comic books to high-end golf supplies to the best lap dances southeast Texas has to offer.

I've taken a number of ill-advised urban treks of my own. My personal favorite was a late-night hike in February of 1988 from the University of Texas' Jester Dormitory down Congress to Ben White Blvd. and back, a roundtrip of just over six miles (the journey was precipitated by a really meaningful fight with my freshman girlfriend). I hit the road around midnight, and by the time I wandered back to my room (around 5 AM), the cops had stopped me - twice, I'd been offered a ride by a dude who was the spitting image of Redd Foxx, and an English guy tried to pick me up so many times I had to threaten him with physical violence to get him to leave me alone.[1]

In retrospect, the walking ensemble consisting of ripped jeans, a black leather jacket, and black cowboy boots probably screamed "Joe Buck." At least I wasn't wearing a cowboy hat.

But enough about me, how did Lomax's trip go?

So, had we found the soul of Houston? Yes, I would have to say that we did, such as it is. It's ugly, preposterous and inhuman, interspersed with all-too-rare pockets of serenity and beauty. It smells like roasting corn, raw sewage, fish sauce, frying hamburgers and exhaust. (Heavy on the exhaust.) There's sex and God at one end of it and plain old sex at the other. It's chic and tacky, humble and proud. It's Vietnamese, Mexican, Korean, black, white, Muslim and Christian, macho and effete, alive and dead, Red State and Blue. It sounds like the whooshing of cars, and if you close your eyes, you can delude yourself into believing they're waves lapping at a beach. It's the American dream, and it's a prison. And it's got the best sweet tea.

I hate sweet tea, but otherwise he's pretty much on the money.

[1] His swinging technique consisted of telling me he'd already slept with an American woman,and nailing an American man would make his trip complete. Or words to that effect. Hey, I'm sure I've used worse.

"Old Dan and I with throats burned dry
And souls that cry for water"

It didn't have a name, but last Monday's deluge (which dropped about eight inches of rain in our neighborhood) was a tropical system. In the words of Dr. Steve Lyons, it was the result of

a surge of tropical moisture on the verge of becoming a tropical depression (if it were not for shear) rushed north into east Texas and Louisiana as it interacted with an approaching upper-level trough and surface frontal boundary and slid east into Mississippi.

He could've added "and dropped an assload of H2O," but that wouldn't be very professional.

It would've been accurate though, as shown in these front yard photos of Casa Vonder Haar. The first shows the neighbor's driveway and the culvert that runs down our street.

Here's the culvert as it runs in front of our house. During Allison, water was up to those trees in the foreground, so most "rain events" like this don't freak me out like they probably would have if we hadn't experienced 18 inches of rain two weeks after moving into our house.

Finally, Chauncey the Lawn Gnome is not amused.

More rain tonight. Sorry Chauncey.

"Not the church! Jesus lives there!"

I'm a horrible person, because I don't check out the blogs in my blogroll every day like I should. Thanks to my shameful neglect, I missed this post from Off the Kuff yesterday:

City of Houston attorneys and lawyers for many of the city's adult businesses both expect a Dec. 4 trial over "distance requirements" for businesses like strip clubs and adult video stores.

In 1997, Houston City Council passed several revisions to city laws governing the adult industry. Several of those controversial issues have since been resolved. But the city law requiring sexually oriented businesses to be at least 1,500 feet away from a school, church, daycare, park or residential area has faced repeated court challenges and has never been enforced.

The U.S. Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals sent the issue back to the trial court for a final resolution.

Judge Nancy Atlas' decision could maintain the "status quo" in Houston, if she sides with strip club owners who have argued that the city's 1,500-foot rule is "unconstitutional." The judge could also force dozens of adult businesses in the city to close or change their trade if she sides with the city.

I haven't been to a strip club in, oh, days...but I'd be hard-pressed to think of anyplace in Houston that is more than 1,500 feet from a church. They're the only thing in this town more numerous than Starbucks.

Maybe they could put a Men's Club on top of Chase Tower.

Shut up, Flanders

Last night was National Night Out, that annual event in which we all pretend we like our neighbors for 90 minutes and share gossip about those assholes who let their dogs run up and down the street every morning.

I'd like to propose a change in the way the event is held in the future, however. NNO's head office is in Pennsylvania, which leads me to believe the idea itself originated somewhere in the Northern states, for only above the Mason-Dixon Line would one consider it a good idea to stand around outdoors on August 1st. Temperatures still hover in the mid-90s here at 5:30 PM, which has to cause some people to reconsider participating. Hell, the only reason I did was because I knew that otherwise my fellow residents would be mocking that inflatable pool I put in the front yard. Bastards.

What I envision is a sort of rolling series of National Nights Out. Maybe Minneapolis could have one on August 1, for example, Memphis on October 1, and Houston on November 15. At least that way we'd only have about a 50% chance of temps above 80.

Okay, 75%

Have a beer with Kinky

I used to have a "Kinky for Governor" graphic up on the blog. I admit, I initially liked the idea of an iconoclastic outsider shaking things up, and he appeared to annoy both sides of the spectrum equally, which is always amusing. The graphic came down, however, because I got tired of waiting for him to get serious. He's gotten a little better at outlining his positions on certain issues, but the whole campaign still feels like a gimmick.

Having said that, I still may head over to Hans' Bier Haus today (July 29) between 3:00 and 6:00, where - according to the official newsletter I received last week - the Kinkster will be in attendance, meeting his potential constituents.

Assuming She Who Shall Not Be Named can be torn away from her kitchenette, that is.

I think this town could use another Starbucks

Or at least another chain bookstore:

Three Houston landmarks, including the Landmark River Oaks Theatre and the Bookstop in the former Alabama Theater, have been declared endangered by the Greater Houston Preservation Alliance.

The alliance has learned, spokesman David Bush said Friday, that two buildings in the River Oaks Shopping Center could face demolition within two years.

The center is controlled by Weingarten Realty Investors, a Houston-based company that owns and manages about 300 retail properties in the southern United States.

A Weingarten spokeswoman would not confirm the company's plans for the shopping center.
[...]
The GHPA has repeatedly tried to discuss the buildings with Weingarten Realty but has been rebuffed, Bush said.

But a half-dozen tenants of the River Oaks Shopping Center told the Houston Chronicle that a Weingarten's leasing agent informed them of plans to raze parts of the historic shopping center.

The first domino to fall, they said, would be the River Oaks Shopping Center building at the northeast corner of Shepherd and West Gray. Erected in 1937, the curved art deco building is "of national significance," architecture historian Stephen Fox said.

Three Brothers Bakery co-owner Robert Jucker said that when he confronted the leasing agent about rumors the building was to be demolished, she confirmed them, and told him that it would remain standing through the end of this year. "But she wouldn't give me that in writing," he said.

The bakery, located for 17 years in the strip between the Black-Eyed Pea restaurant and Jos. A. Bank clothing store, is on a month-to-month lease, Jucker said.

A number of River Oaks Shopping Center tenants � including owners of Archway Gallery, Chase's Closet and Laff Stop � said that a Weingarten's leasing agent told them the Black-Eyed Pea building would be replaced with a multistory Barnes & Noble.
[...]
Opened in 1939, the River Oaks is Houston's oldest functioning movie theater.

I saw Bubba Ho-Tep at the Landmark River Oaks and got to meet Bruce Campbell that night as well. The Thing That Walks Like A Man and I sat with Joe R. Lansdale and his famlily, marveling in their unmistakeably East Texas grooviness.

That fascinating tidbit aside, when you can go to any of our dozen or so megaplexes and see Little Man on six screens (and have it sell out five of those), preserving one of the few theaters devoted to independent films would seem like a no-brainer. Especially one on which, as far as my experience goes, audiences tend to shut the fuck up and turn off their cell phones. When a city of over four million can barely support three theaters of this kind, however, all bets are off. And with the exception of special screenings like the aforementioned, the LRO doesn't sell out that much.

The Laff Stop is another story entirely. It used to be the only game in town, but then the Improv showed up. Now, big acts go to the Improv, and really big acts play the Verizon Ampitheater.

But don't believe me, check out the coming attractions for the Laff Stop:

Tom Wilson (Biff from Back to the Future) - July 26-29
Bert Kriescher (Fresh Baked Video Games) - August 2-5
Robert Wuhl (Arliss) - August 10-12
Josh Blue (the hippie nutbag from Last Comic Standing) - August 16-19
Robert Kelly (one of the guys on Tourgasm who isn't Dane Cook) - August 30-Sept. 2
Godfrey (the 7Up guy) - Sept. 20-23

And it goes on like this.

The Improv's strength of schedule isn't that much more impressive, but they do have guys like Dave Attell, Pablo Francisco, and Jim Norton coming up (guys who used to play the Laff Stop, it should be noted). And both clubs are suffering from big names like Lewis Black and Dave Chappelle moving on to even larger venues.

In addition to the two segments of the River Oaks center, the preservation alliance placed the art deco Alabama Shepherd Shopping Center on its endangered list because of fears that Barnes & Noble would close the Bookstop if it built in River Oaks. Weingarten also controls The Alabama Center.

Responding to questions via e-mail, Barnes & Noble Inc. spokeswoman Carol Brown wrote that the company had "made no announcement of plans to build in the River Oaks Shopping Center." Brown wouldn't say whether such plans existed.

She also said the chain had no "immediate" plans to move from the Bookstop location.

In 1989, Bookstop won national attention for its creative preservation of the Alabama movie theater, built in 1939. Nine years later, Barnes & Noble bought the Bookstop chain.

Ironically, B&N probably duffed that hand-off when they allowed the Bookstop to keep its old name. In a city with two Starbucks less than 150 feet from each other and Pappasitos as the most popular Mexican restaurant chain, they should've realized that masquerading as an independent bookstore wasn't going to cut it. Now, we stand to lose the best travel book and magazine section in town for the 30 tomes on London and the 20 copies of Maxim and Us Weekly available in your average Barnes & Noble.

I like the aesthetics of the Alabama shopping center as well as anyone, but Cactus lost money and Whole Foods moved on to greener pastures. The Bookstop can't anchor that site in its present incarnation, which is too bad. It was also too bad the Ale House couldn't hold its own against a goddamn Border's Bookstore parking lot, but that's Houston.

Don't worry though; I'm sure the Cingular Wireless store and Curves franchise will be just as pleasantly quirky in their new building.

Well blow me down

The 2006 hurricane season kicks off today. We Gulf Coast denizens are especially skittish this year, for reasons that are obvious and don't require further elaboration. Nobody likes to think about having to hit the evacuation routes again, yet we'll all find ourselves watching the tropical updates for the next six months with a sick mixture of revulsion and anticipation, just the same.

This is also the time of year I trot out my "hurricane porn" entry. Not because I'm especially proud of it (though it is near the top of my rankings for most searched for posts), but because even in the wake of Katrina I feel it's pretty accurate. Moreso, actually.

I'm also not one to deny myself a cheap spike in traffic.

-----
Tropical storms and hurricanes are a big deal in the paved swamp I call home, i.e. Houston, TX. If you don't believe me, check out some of these images from when tropical storm Allison breezed through our humble town a couple years ago. It demonstrated both the awesome destructive power of nature and the necessity of having a cooler for the beer you were planning on drinking during the basketball game until the electricity went out.

Our family was lucky, in that neither our home nor our cars flooded. And once the power finally came back on, we discovered that all local programming (we didn't have cable) was fixed on the admittedly impressive images of the aftermath of the storm...for roughly the next three months.

This kind of coverage was understandable with regard to a titanic bastard of a storm like Allison, but it was only the latest in the local networks' long-standing pattern of milking every possible bit of fear and suspense out of viewers at the approach of tropical weather systems. It hardly seems to matter that computer models are roughly as accurate as a Ouija board while a storm is more than 48 hours out, or that storms like Allison are rare beasts indeed, for these days our doughty weatherpersons breathlessly report every developing tropical depression as if the End Times were upon us. Coverage increases in intensity until the tension is almost to much to take.

I call it "hurricane porn."

First, there's the foreplay, which (unlike in actual pornography) can take several days. It starts with Doppler radar and satellite images that grow progressively larger and, dare I say it, more tumescent as the system approaches the coast. Cloud cover grows and the winds pick up, and most TV stations will have reporters positioned along the coast in areas projected to be in the storm's path. These hardy souls eye the camera with come hither looks of dire urgency (I wish I could find screen captures of local ABC reporter Jessica Willey standing on a pier in Galveston during Claudette's rainy approach wearing a soaked-through white blouse - more than ratings were rising that evening, let me tell you). The anticipation continues to build in this fashion until landfall, which is where you get...

Hot hurricane action: water crashes furiously over the sea wall, palm trees whip back and forth in an orgiastic frenzy and street signs waggle suggestively in the wind. Meanwhile, the rhythmically swaying area street lights almost seem to keep the beat for the omnipresent frenzy. This is the period where one sees the most pervasive coverage. TV stations will often interrupt regular programming in order to cut to live shots of their other reporters, who can be found "braving" the storm by standing right in the middle of the heaviest wind and rains. Speaking only for myself, I'd have a lot more respect for a newsperson who did their report from a bar, sipping a beer and leading off with, "You know, you'd have to be a real idiot to be outside on a night like this..." Maybe someday.

Fortunately, the actual hurricane footage can only last so long, as most systems weaken rapidly once they make landfall. This is why television stations are so desperate for that money shot. You'll know it when you see it: a roof flying off a department store and disintegrating, or one of those aforementioned reporters getting blown into a ditch. If the networks are really lucky, they'll get film of a fireman rescuing a baby from a rooftop, or a woman pulled from her car just before it's covered by rising floodwaters. After something like that, you can't help but feel spent.

Once the storm has blown inland, you can finally bask in the afterglow: blue sky shots of boats beached thirty feet above the tide line, hapless shmoes sweeping water out of their bedrooms, and the weatherman telling us it "could've been worse." That's when you light a cigarette and compare property damage with your neighbors.

I'm waiting for the NOAA to extend hurricane season by a month and a half so it can include May and November sweeps.

Hyperbolic local news broadcasts are nothing new. We Houstonians are regularly treated to investigative reports about strip clubs and hard hitting stories about local contestants on "American Idol" and the like. The problem with hurricane porn is the same as with the boy who cried wolf, then the wolf raised him as one of her own and the boy went on to found Los Lobos...or something: it's hard to pay much attention to the stormcrows when the storms keep veering off into Louisiana or Brownsville. Eventually, another monster hurricane is going to hit Houston, and we're all going to be screwed because we're waiting for Jessica Willey's bikini-cam report.
-----

Post-Rita, I wouldn't be surprised if a number of those who camped out on I-45 for 25 hours might not be a little more inclined to gut it out next time around. We'll probably find out soon enough.

Enter the Muntz

"Ha ha."

A federal jury convicted former Enron chiefs Ken Lay on all counts and Jeff Skilling on most counts today, marking the climax of one of the most notorious corporate scandals in U.S. history and nearly ensuring prison time for two of Houston's best-known executives.

The jury heard 16 weeks of testimony and arguments and made its announcement early on its sixth day of deliberations. The eight-woman, four-man panel found Lay guilty of all six counts. They convicted Skilling on 19 of the 28 counts against him.

U.S. District Judge Sim Lake set a sentencing date of Sept. 11. The two men remain free on bond.

I'm late to the party here, but I must admit to being pleasantly surprised that the jury actually brought in guilty verdicts. There are tons of people in this town who know people affected by Enron's implosion, many of whom are still living with the consequences of Kenny Boy and Company's malfeasance. In the words of one of them I spoke with today, "I hope they find the darkest cell there is and they throw away the key."

Skilling was still - predictably - in denial:

When asked whether he could admit that he had broken the law, Skilling replied, "No. I didn't."

"We fought the good fight," Skilling said. "Some things work; some things don't."

Apparently coming across like a pompous ass in your testimony is one that goes in the "things that don't" column.

Lay tried a different approach:

Shortly before 3 p.m., Lay also made a brief statement to the media outside the courthouse: "Despite what happened today, I'm still a very blessed man. At my left is this beautiful lady that's my wife. I have a very warm, loving family. And, most of all I believe God, in fact, is in control and that, indeed God works all things good for all who love the lord. We love our lord, all this will work for good."

Must be another one of those "mysterious ways" things, eh? Or as The Wife put it, "Where's your messiah now?"

To quote Dennis Miller when he used to be mildly humorous (c. 1993):

"Manuel Noriega wants us to belive he's a changed man, says he found Jesus in a Dade County jail cell. I've got news for you, Manny: every other guy in that place are named Jesus."

The convictions won't change the fact that lives were ruined while these scumbags purchased their ivory backscratchers, but it's a small victory for the good guys.

Tepid for teacher

What, no Fark thread for this guy?

A former Cy-Fair ISD coach groped a high school freshman on several occasions during the current school year � including at least once while on campus � and made sexual overtures to other students, Harris County Sheriff's deputies said today.

James Walter Goode, 38, was charged with three counts of indecency with a child. He was later transferred to the Harris County Jail with a combined bail set at $75,000.

The victim, a 15-year-old 9th grader, said Goode began fondling her last fall, soon after she became a student trainer in the athletic department at Jersey Village High School, 7600 Solomon.

Curious how whenever it's a male teacher messing around with a female student, no women come forward grunting like orangutans and wondering, "Where was this guy when I was in high school?" Man, I never get tired of that one.

Goode also is accused of taking a second girl, 16, from the school cafeteria to a secluded hallway Feb. 26, and later asking to touch her breasts. The complaint said the girl refused and was ordered not to tell anybody what happened.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, if you honestly think there's nothing wrong with a 30-something female teacher having sex with a teenaged boy, then you should also have no problem with a male football coach doing the same.

And don't forget to high five your son and congratulate him on being such a stud.

I know there are some present and former teachers who peruse APCB. I'm curious to hear their thoughts on this kind of thing.

"I'm the head Frog here."

I kicked shooed my first frog of the year off the porch last night, which means...that's right, I get to recycle one of my old posts again.

-----

Spring and summer are frog season in these parts, and while not exactly on the same decibel level as cicadas, the little bastards can be loud. When we moved into out first non-apartment housing several years ago, I began hunting around for solutions to the racket that sprang up outside our bedroom window every night.

The following conversation - between myself and a Houston Garden Center employee - actually took place and is, to the best of my memory, accurate:

PVH: What did you say these things are called again?
HGCE: Rio Grande chirping frogs. They're a Houston-specific variant.
PVH: Gotcha.
HGCE: What were you looking for, exactly?
PVH: I just want something to make them avoid the area right under my bedroom window, if you've got anything like that.
HGCE: Uh huh.
PVH: I don't want to kill them, necessarily, but something that..I don't know...drives them into the neighbor's yard would be fine.
HGCE: Have you tried rotenone?
PVH: No, what's that?
HGCE: Well, adding it to any standing water will essentially make the water unlivable, which will drive the frogs out.
PVH: I see.
HGCE: Did you ever see the movie Creature from the Black Lagoon?
PVH: [blinking] Uh yes, actually.
HGCE: Well, they used rotenone to capture the Creature.
PVH: ...
HGCE: And he was an amphibian.
PVH: I'll take it.

It worked, too. Who would've suspected that all the answers to modern man's pest control problems could be found in 1950's horror movies?

If only there was something to help me with my mantis infestation...

The Bush Library has its first volume

I don't really have much to say about Houston pastor Joel Osteen's reported $13
million book deal, except that I enjoyed this particular excerpt:

Two other people briefed on Osteen's deal - who also spoke on condition of anonymity because their companies do not allow the disclosure of financial arrangements - said his wife, Victoria, who appears with him at the "inspirational nights of encouragement and worship" that he conducts at arenas across the country, was also planning to publish a book, possibly with Simon & Schuster's children's division.

I can see it now: Davey and Goliath Get Thrown from Flight 1602 to
Denver and Wreak Holy Vengeance Upon Continental Airlines.

Another crisis averted

Get those "1836" jerseys up on eBay, stat:

The franchise officially gave its 1836 name the boot. It will build its brand around the name Dynamo, instead.

That�s right. Not Dynamos, as in the short-lived USL semi-professional team that roamed the pitch at Butler Stadium briefly in 1984. It�s Dynamo, as in full of energy, a tribute to the city�s ties to the oil, gas and other energy industries.

�Dynamo is a word to describe someone who never fatigues, never gives up,� franchise president Oliver Luck said. �The new name is symbolic of Houston as an energetic, hard-working, risk-taking kind of town.�
[...]
The nixing of 1836 was expected after the name was deemed offensive by some in the Hispanic community shortly after its unveiling Jan. 25.

Which is all well and good for the Hispanic community, but what about the thousands terrorized by this guy?

Back to the drawing board, fellas.

Every thorn has its prick

This is a shitty way to start your weekend:

Cactus Music & Video, one of Houston's best-loved and best-stocked independent music retailers, will close on March 31.

General manager Quinn Bishop announced the closing in a letter today.

Several reasons for the closing were cited. On the business side, Bishop's letter mentioned industry-wide problems that have plagued the music business: high list prices and sluggish CD sales due to downloading, file-sharing and burning; and competition from larger retailers like Best Buy, which can afford to sell CDs as a loss-leader. Cactus' video-rental service also experienced lagging business as well.

Cactus' prices were always on the high end, but it was worth it to be able to walk into a store and take your pick of Man or Astro-Man? discs without having to wait for the mail, or to leisurely peruse the full catalogue of Something Weird films.

But besides that, none of the major CD outlets are likely to stock the wide range of independent Texas music Cactus did. Billy Joe Shaver? Todd Snider? Big Boys? That old Skunkweed 7"? Cactus had it. Good luck finding "Corporate Deathburger" at Wal-Mart.

Cactus was always a nutritious part of any lazy Saturday shopping in Houston, along with Bedrock Comics and Murder by the Book. Of course, we also used to hit the Ale House for a beer afterwards. Haven't been able to do that in a while. And the in-store appearances (with free St. Arnold's draft) were always a relaxing way to spend a late Friday afternoon.

I'm really looking forward to not being able to tell Montrose from the Woodlands Parkway in a few years. Might as well move to fucking Conroe and be done with it.

Wasn't that the title of a Janet Jackson album?

Jeez, I leave town for a week and we get the earth-shattering revelation of the name of Houston's MLS team. And it appears that every one of my suggestions was ignored. Figures.

The city's Major League Soccer team will be known as Houston 1836. The team colors will be white, orange and black.

The name's main reference is the year Houston was founded by John and Augustus Allen on the banks of Buffalo Bayou. It also marks the year Texas declared its independence from Mexico, the Battle of the Alamo and the defeat of General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna's Mexican army at the hands of General Sam Houston in the Battle of San Jacinto during the Texas Revolution.

Uh oh. That's going to cause some problems...

By naming the team Houston 1836, the newly arrived Major League Soccer franchise has chosen to identify with a year that may divide the city rather than unite it. While the team intends to highlight Houston's founding along the banks of Buffalo Bayou, the year also commemorates the defeat of the Mexican Army by a largely Anglo Texan militia at the Battle of San Jacinto. Whether by ignorance or design, choosing 1836 has the potential to alienate Houstonians of Mexican origin, a group that is surely a large part of the team's fan base.

I understand Prof. Ramos' concern, really, but the fact that the year of Houston's founding coincides with Santa Ana's embarrassing ass kicking on the banks of the San Jacinto is merely an unfortunate coincidence.

Team officials state that 1836 was primarily chosen to represent the city's founding. A team name doesn't have the luxury of explaining itself. The link to Texas secession from Mexico during the Texas Revolution is inescapable

Uh, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but that's kind of one of the defining moments of the state's history. Certainly the majority of us would prefer to forget about introducing slavery and invading Mexico in 1846, as Ramos mentions in his article, but to try and shame people in Texas over declaring themselves a Republic after defeating one of the worst generals in history isn't going to amount to much.

Houston has undergone many transformations and reinventions since 1836. Digging the Ship Channel, the Galveston hurricane of 1900, discovering oil and sending a man to the moon all took place since then and all changed the face of the city. Naming the team 1836 smacks of nostalgia for a time when Mexican people were absent or at least knew their place.

Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explaind by stupidity, Prof. Ramos. The date of the city's founding was the easiest choice they could make. Of course, he's demonstrating his own insensitivities with his alternatives here. How many people were displaced by the digging of the Ship Channel? And why the hell would we name a team after the biggest natural disaster in our history? Why not just call them 2001? Allison was a pretty big deal, too.

Apparently 1900 isn't as insensitive because the people who died then were primarily Anglos.

Shit, why don't we just name the team after the year air conditioning was introduced? I think that's something we can all agree was a Good Thing.

The team has started its relationship with the Latino community off on the wrong foot. Short of changing the name, the team needs to make extra efforts to appear open to Latino Houstonians.

Only then, and by removing Sam Houston from the logo, will the team come to symbolize the promise of a global capital.

Here's how they're going to "appear open to Latino Houstonians:" they're going to take your money just like they take everyone else's. That's really the best indication that the Latino community has acheived a kind of parity here in Houston. Mexican-American Houstonians are going to pay exorbitant ticket prices and $7 for a beer at the concession stand, just like their Anglo brethren. Welcome to the Promised Land.

Seeking copy editor

This pic on the Houston Chronicle site has since been corrected (it originally ran on Friday), but the fact that it made it there at all is pretty hilarious:

Who knew Mary Kay Letourneau had an oratory contest?

That gosh-darned rodeo

As the Chronicle puts it, "The 2006 RodeoHouston lineup looks a lot like the top of the country music charts." If you consider that a good thing, you have my deepest sympathies:

It also bears a passing resemblance to last year's list of rodeo performers. The two notable exceptions are Sheryl Crow and former Creedence Clearwater Revival frontman John Fogerty, both of whom will make their first rodeo appearances.

Of the 24 music and comedy artists announced Monday as part of this year's RodeoHouston, Feb. 28-March 19, a third are returnees from last year's schedule.

The other two-thirds, unfortunately, seem to include just about all the acts that might appeal to anyone who doesn't consider putting "a boot in your ass" sensible foreign policy:

Last year's post on the rodeo lineup was, in my mind, the definitive examination of rodeo concert history, so I'll make this quick:

Feb. 28 -- George Strait

This will make 19 appearances for George, who's still working community service for Pure Country.

March 1 -- Trisha Yearwood

That marriage to Chris Gaines Garth Brooks is making a lot more sense now, considering it's been 12 years since her last rodeo gig.

March 2 -- Sheryl Crow

People blame her for breaking up Lance Armstrong's marriage. I don't. I blame her for taking the obvious songwriting talent behind "Strong Enough" and "Leaving Las Vegas" and making treacly crap like "Soak Up the Sun."

I'd offer my wishes that Lance could give her music more balls, but he doesn't have a lot to spare.

March 3 -- Black Heritage Day -- Maze featuring Frankie Beverly and Raven

Raven? As in Cosby Show and That's so Raven Raven? That's the best you could come up with for Black Heritage Day? Last year's half-Puerto Rican Alicia Keys seemed a little more qualified.

March 4 -- Martina McBride
March 5 -- Clay Walker

As was the case last year, I know nothing about Martina McBride. Clay Walker gets a few points for at least living sort of near Houston.

March 6 -- Robert Earl Keen and Cross Canadian Ragweed
March 7 -- John Fogerty

I'm not one to order my readers around, but if you're going to check out any live acts at the Rodeo this year, these are the two days to do it. Wait too long, and...

March 8 -- Toby Keith

Seeing as how Mr. Personality here was sitting on the OU sideline during the Red River Shootout, I hope 10,000 of my Longhorn brethren show up in burnt orange on the 8th and pelt this bloated, reactionary gasbag with jalapenos. After which, he can clamber into his Ford truck and speed away to his hotel room, where a nonstop parade of Latino rent boys "massage" away his tension.

March 9 -- Maroon 5

I bet these guys showed up last year on a lark, figuring they'd add the Rodeo as a bit of a break from their constant touring schedule that placed them in front of thouands of screaming teenage girls every night.

And I bet these has-beens are glad they were asked back this year.

March 10 -- Pat Green

Did anybody ever believe your pseudo-self-deprecating good ole boy shit?

March 11 -- Lee Ann Womack
March 12 -- Go Tejano Day -- Ramon Ayala and Jay Perez
March 13 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- LeAnn Rimes
March 14 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- Larry the Cable Guy and Cory Morrow

Sweet cheroot of Beirut, this is the show to attend this year. If you've got tickets, I want in. I want to "Haw haw" along with Larry's brilliant routines about edible underwear and those wily homosexuals. I want to bellow "Git-R-Done!" along with a hundred score flabby racists in sleeveless flannel and trucker caps. I want to be the first guy on my block to vomit from accidentally downing half a can of Skoal Long Cut (wintergreen).

March 15 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- Alan Jackson
March 16 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- Hilary Duff

See March 9.

March 17 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- Lonestar
March 18 -- -- Spring Break Stampede -- Brooks & Dunn

At least they ended the Rodeo on a high n..oh, never mind.

Just FYI

HPD Officer Seong Kim was reinstated to the force after being fired for allegedly intimidating customers with his Taser at a Wal-Mart where he worked security. The department is also awarding him full back pay.

This information comes to me courtesy of his brother. As I've been friends with both men for over ten years, I thought y'all might like to know, since it doesn't look like either KHOU or KTRK, two of the fine local news stations who so happily reported the firing in the first place, appear inclined to issue a follow-up story.

"I am looking forward to an orderly election tomorrow, which will eliminate the need for a violent blood bath."

When The Wife got back from voting in Saturday's runoff election around 9 AM, she informed me she was the whopping 8th person to vote at our polling station. I knew runoff elections weren't marked by high attendance, but I figured that numbers would pick up as the day went on.

While running errands that afternoon, I stopped by to vote around 1 PM. After signing in, I asked what number I was. The two workers briefly consulted their lists and the guy in front of me answered, "22."

You get the government you don't vote for, I guess. At least one of the candidates I was supporting won.

It ain't L.A. vs. New York, but it's a start

Enjoying your stay, Katrina refugees?

Several Westbury High School students were arrested this afternoon after a brawl involving Hurricane Katrina evacuees, according to Houston Independent School District officials.

"There was a fight that broke out in the cafeteria between some girls and it spread outside," said HISD spokewsoman Adriana Villarreal. "The only injury we know of so far is one child that had a minor laceration under their eye."

Westbury, located in southwest Houston, has nearly 2,500 students, including 300 from Louisiana.

Villarreal said she did not yet know how many students were arrested or what they were fighting about.

I have no special insight into the motives behind this fracas, but I'm pretty sure you can narrow it down to one of the following three flashpoints:

1. Whose NFL team is shittier? (Ours)

2. Which city has worse weather? (Push - NO gets the edge for essentially getting washed off the map)

3. Whose multi-purpose domed arena is more useless? (Theirs...for now)

"Think of the fact that there's not one state in the 50 that has the death penalty for speeding... although I'm not so sure about Ohio."

Objection overruled, Mr. Rosenthal.

The Wife and I were watching the news this weekend while easing back into speaking terms after the annual Bull Run at Casa Vonder Haar over the UT-A&M game. There was a teaser or some such concerning the fact that this Wednesday will see the 1000th person executed in the United States since the death penalty was reinstated in 1976:

After a 10-year moratorium, [Gary] Gilmore in 1977 became the first person to be executed following a 1976 U.S. Supreme Court decision that validated state laws to reform the capital punishment system. Since then, 997 prisoners have been executed, and next week, the 998th, 999th and 1,000th are scheduled to die.

Robin Lovitt, 41, will likely be the one to earn that macabre distinction next Wednesday, Nov. 30. He was convicted of fatally stabbing a man with scissors during a 1998 pool hall robbery in Virginia.

Ahead of Lovitt on death row are Eric Nance, scheduled to be executed Monday in Arkansas, and John Hicks, scheduled to be executed Tuesday in Ohio. Both executions appear likely to proceed.

Lovitt will be a Trival Pursuit answer, at least. As for those other guys...well, can you name the 2nd and 3rd people executed after Gilmore?

Some pro-death penalty advocates have eased off the whole "deterrent to crime" angle somewhat and are taking what I think is a pretty amusing stance:

"Since 1999 we've had 100,000 innocent people murdered in the U.S., but nobody is planning on commemorating all those people killed," said Michael Paranzino, president of Throw Away the Key, a group that supports the death penalty.
[...]
Some supporters say ending the death penalty would be harmful to poor minorities, who are disproportionately murder victims.

"Increasingly violent crime is primarily for the working class folks, poor people and people of color," Paranzino said.

That's a pretty bold statement, especially since (as the article also tells us) a rather disproportionate number of non-whites are the ones who end up executed. Opponents of the death penalty point this out, and also draw attention to the increasing evidence that many innocent people are ending up on death row:

Since 1973, 122 prisoners have been freed from death row. The vast majority of those cases came during the last 15 years, since the use of DNA evidence became widespread. While there is no official proof an innocent person has been executed, opponents of the death penalty say the number of prisoners whose convictions have been reversed should fuel skepticism.

"I don't think any rational person seriously examining the evidence can have any confidence that an innocent hasn't already been executed," said [Innocent Project founder Barry] Scheck.

Using post-conviction DNA evidence, the Innocence Project has helped in more than half of the 163 cases vacated � 14 of which were from death row. "We've demonstrated that there are too many innocent people on death row," Scheck said.

I'm sure, had former Scheck client O.J. Simpson been sentences to death, he'd adhere to his position with nary a trace of irony, but his point is well taken.

One also has to wonder how many counts as "too many;" three? Ten? Fifty?

Then again, Harris County DA Chuck "WWJD" Rosenthal disagrees. And why wouldn't he? Our county has sent more prisoners to The Chamber than any other in the U.S.:

But that argument does not impress Charles Rosenthal, district attorney for Harris County, Texas, which has sent more prisoners to the death chamber � 85 � than any other U.S. county and all but two states, Texas and Virginia, according to Texas Department of Criminal Justice statistics.

"I don't know about every death penalty case in Texas, but I feel quite sure that no one that this office has had anything to do with was factually innocent," Rosenthal said.

Scheck believes Rosenthal's claim is based "more on faith than fact." He noted that the police DNA lab in Houston has been shut down since 2002 because an investigation found problems with poor training and contaminated evidence.

Evidence, shmevidence...we've got sleeping defense attorneys down here in Houston. And it only took the intervention of the freaking Supreme Court to reverse that one.

As for the potential Mr. 1000:

Virginia Gov. Mark Warner is examining Lovitt's case, and could decide whether or not to grant clemency over the weekend. It would be the only likely way Lovitt could avoid execution. In October, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to reconsider the case.

DNA tests on the scissors used in the stabbing were inconclusive, and the scissors were later thrown away because of a lack of storage space. One of his lawyers, former independent counsel Kenneth Starr, said though he supports the death penalty in principle, it should not apply to Lovitt for reasons "including above all right now the destruction of the DNA evidence.

That might be the first thing Ken Starr and I actually agree on.

I'm also a supporter of the death penalty. Or rather, I would be if there were some way to guarantee its fair and error-free application, but...there isn't. There are plenty of cases in which someone has demonstrated their contempt for human life and the laws of society enough to justify the needle, but they get lost amidst the incompetence and outright malice, to say nothing of trying to get the death penalty for someone as obviously sick as Andrea Yates.

As for the ever popular "deterrent" argument, I noted with no small amount of black humor that the teaser for this story ran in the same newscast that had just finished reporting on six murders the previous night in Harris County (on our way to a total of 14 for the holiday weekend).

"I got a weird thing for girls who say 'Aboot.'"

Had lunch with HWRNMNBSOL today. The location was the fabled Lai Lai Dumpling House in southwest Houston. Conversation, as it is wont to do between two pathetic dorks, varied widely as we dined on green onion pie and General Tso's chicken. Most of what was spoken, however, was far less interesting when you take into consideration the presence of several girls from a St. Agnes, a local Catholic school. One group came in shortly after we did, and neither of us thought much about it (that we said, anyway) until the second group arrived. Then I felt moved, as it were, to speak.

Pete: Okay, this is starting to get a little surreal.
HWRN: It's like an invasion.
Pete: Not that we should really be complaining.
HWRN: Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.
Pete: What's bothering me is the one with the doll. That's two fetishes in one.
HWRN: Somewhere Jack Nicholson's pager just exploded.

The broccoli hurt as it came out my nose, but it was worth it.

Les on ice

I don't agree with Lair about much, but his reaction to this story was right on the money:

With the NHL back in business, Rockets owner Leslie Alexander said this week that he is working toward expanding his business to pro hockey.

Alexander said that not only has he made his interest known to NHL officials, including commissioner Gary Bettman, last month he began talking with investors should he be able to buy a team to move to Houston.

"I am trying to get a team. I am trying," Alexander said. "I went to see the commissioner. I told him about my interest. I can't disclose teams, but I've been talking to people (in the NHL) and to investment bankers.

If those investors have more than a handful of brain cells to rub together, they'll attach some conditions to any loans requiring the new team to meet certain attendance goals or the banks call in the note. Houston is not much of a sports town. Witness the Texans, and the huge sections of empty seats CBS was desperately trying to disguise during last week's game against Cleveland. The Astros had a great season, but when they're not in playoff contention, and it's not a weekend game, Minute Maid Park is about 60% full. And the Rockets have gone on record multiple times about the lack/silence of their fans during the regular season.

Hockey? I just don't see it. The local minor league team couldn't sell out the Compaq Center when they were in the IHL Turner Cup finals several years ago, even with a big chunk of the upper deck seats blocked off (I know, I was there). If the local football team is having trouble putting butts in the seats after a string of bad luck, how the hell is an NHL team going to fare, especially considering the vast majority of people in this city have no idea what's going on during a game?

But don't take my word for it.

Toyota Center is home to the AHL Aeros. Going into Thursday's game, the Aeros' average home attendance, 4,969, ranked 14th in the 27-team league, behind the league average of 5,028.

Aeros attendance also trailed AHL teams from cities of similar size � Chicago (8,027), Philadelphia (7,468) and Toronto (6,106) � though each competes with NBA and NHL teams.

And are also cities where hockey is a sport people play with some regularity. With the exception of a few of the wealthier area high schools, kids in Houston don't grow up with ice hockey. It's not the sort of thing one can just spontaneously engage in here, like they can football, basketball, or soccer.

Bringing the NHL - which has the second highest average ticket price ($43.57) behind the NFL ($54.75) - to Houston doesn't make sense. There's no built-in fan base (and it's hard to get people to take a chance on a strange sport at that kind of money), no tradition of the sport in the area, no demand for it, and NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman has already said there won't ne an NHL expansion.

As for the teams allegedly considering a move:

The Nashville Predators, Buffalo Sabres, Carolina Hurricanes, Pittsburgh Penguins and Washington Capitals have been mentioned as teams that could be franchises that might consider a move. Hurricanes attendance is up 21 percent (to 14,627 per game) and Predators attendance has increased 14 percent (to 14,257).

Attendance in Buffalo and Washington is down 11 percent. The Capitals are last in the NHL, averaging 12,313, but the NHL is likely to resist a move out of the nation's capital.

I have a hard time believing Buffalo, Washington, or Pittsburgh will give up their teams. As for the others, why would we want a team fleeing the same problems it's going to encounter here? So Les Alexander can line his pockets with more of our money? The hell with that. I like hockey, but where I can hypothetically afford to hit 10-12 Aeros games a year currently, I'd be lucky to make 1 or 2 NHL games. And that would be for the shitty seats not snarfed up by corporate ticketholders. No thanks.

As for the aforementioned Lair, I agree with this comment of his the most:

Folks, if you're looking for the next major professional sport in town, it's called soccer. And if you get a Mexican League team in Reliant, you'll have bigger crowds than Texans games.

Amen, bubba. Although that wouldn't be that great an accomplishment this season.

Nice choice

Via Brazosport News, I see our esteemed Governor has appointed an evacuation task force to help prevent the kind of monstrous delays we saw during Rita's approach:

City and state officials are taking steps to make sure the problems we saw evacuating the city don't ever happen again.

Governor Rick Perry on Friday announced appointments of ten people to the Task Force on Evacuation Transportation and Logistics. The group was established by Governor Perry, Houston Mayor Bill White, and Harris County Judge Robert Eckels to improve evacuation procedures for big cities in Texas.

"Hurricane Rita highlighted the tremendous challenges associated with evacuating a major American city, as well as strengths and weaknesses in state, local and private evacuation plans," Perry said. "While we achieved the ultimate goal of moving millions of people to safety in a matter of hours, we can and we must do better the next time we are faced with an emergency."

"I want to assure people in this city that I found the state of the fuel and delays in opening lanes unacceptable and we will come up with, in this state, a better plan in the future," said Mayor White Friday. "I think that Governor Perry is committed to that and I think the citizens of this state are committed to that."

You'd have a hard time finding anyone who sat on the interstate for 12 hours or more arguing that statement, but who are these ten stalwart go-getters?

Theron Bowman, Ph.D., Chief of Police for City of Arlington
Bill King, former Mayor of Kemah, Texas
Dr. Carol Lewis of Houston, Associate Professor in Transportation Studies and Director of the Center for Transportation Training and Research at Texas Southern University
Jerry Patterson of Austin, Texas Land Commissioner
David Saperstein of Houston, CEO of Five S Capital, former Chairman and CEO of Metro Networks Inc., Volunteer Chairman of the Office of Mobility for the City of Houston
Karen Sexton of Galveston, Vice President and CEO for Hospitals and Clinics at UTMB

Okay, I really don't have any problem with any of these. City and state officials and transportation experts are all sound choices. As Banjo said, some representation from counties adversely affected by the evac would be nice, but these seem pretty good.

Jack Little of Houston (Chair), former President and CEO of Shell Oil Company
Bill Klesse of San Antonio, Executive Vice President and COO of Valero Energy
Mike Trevino of Houston, General Manager of Public and Governmental Affairs for Marathon Oil

Um, what? Are these guys going to guarantee gasoline supplies in the event of future evacuations? Trevino is the only one who seems remotely appropriate, frankly.

Gordon Bethune of Houston, former Chairman and CEO of Continental Airlines

Well...sure. This is the guy who, on September 15, 2001, used the 9-11 attacks as an excuse to justify the layoff of thousands of Continental employees. Layoffs which, I might add, were planned well in advance of the actual hijackings.

Of course, every task force needs someone who can adopt a hangdog expression in front of the TV cameras while finding a scapegoat for egregious mismanagement. Bethune (rhymes with "buffoon") will fit that role nicely.

Who needs a drink?

After several days of fretting over Rita and/or sitting on the freeway for 20 hours, I imagine people might be interested in blowing off a little steam. To that end, I propose that those of you in the Houston/SE Texas area (or anyone who feels like dropping by) meet me for APCB Beerfest II, tentatively titled "Blame it on Rita."

Where? Hans' Village Bier and Vino Haus - In the Rice Village on Quenby (also the site of APCB Beerfest I). There's a map on the web site.
When? This Saturday (Oct. 1), at...say...6-ish? This should give me ample time to fill the screw holes on my window frames.
Why? Because we could all use a break after two weeks of Rita-related news. Plus, the temperatures should have "cooled" down to the mid-80s.
How? Get in your cars and drive there. What am I, your mother?

I realize it's short notice, and while I can't promise Chad and I won't commandeer the jukebox for another impromptu Queen marathon, there will be beer aplenty and (hopefully) fun people to regale with that story about how you had pee in a Whataburger cup while parked on I-45.

"Hurricane Holy Fucking Moses"

I agree with Lewis Black that there should be a more meaningful naming system for tropical weather systems, because I, for one, refuse to let that monstrosity in the Gulf screw up my memories of the one true Rita.

As has been pointed out to me, I'm not the most logical in what I stress out about. Case in point: the aforementioned big freaking storm over which I have no control. We've made contingencies for staying (holing up with a friend who has a generator, keg, and firearms) and bugging out (visiting Mom in the Panhandle). We have water, batteries, and diapers, the cars are gassed up, and I may or may not nail plywood over the windows tomorrow.

Because if anything can stop a 2x4 blown by 80 mph winds, it's a sheet of plywood.

It's the waiting that's driving me nuts. The latest models are once again all over the place, but with consensus seeming to put landfall around Matagorda Bay. The storm is expected to intensify beyond...what was expected, and mandatory evacuations for Galveston are set to begin later today.

Some things will be a little clearer late Wednesday night, and I think we'll make the call whether or not to take off at that time. And of course, it's also looking more and more likely that I won't be making it to the Bend Film Festival this weekend like I'd planned.

Time for bed. We'll see what the morning forecasts bring.

"Don't know why, there's no sun up in the sky"

Stormy weather.

This is where we all reminisce about past tropical weather experiences, right? Sadly, my memory's not that good, and I didn't move to the Gulf Coast until 1997. Growing up in College Station, anything that made it the 140 miles or so inland to my house usually amounted to a shitload of rain and some stiff breezes. I do have hazy recollections of being in Ft. Myers, FL when it was brushed by one storm (Agnes?), but then, it rains a lot in Florida.

1. In September, 1998, Frances hit us and dumped about a foot of rain on Houston. The water got up to the top step on our porch before receding (it was a rental, so no big deal). Our upstairs neighbor Scott and I spent most of that morning helping people push their cars off the street, which was mostly pointless, as by the time the majority of those stoners woke up, the water was already into their cars (it was about thigh high on the street).

One girl in particular stands out, however. Not because she had one of them newfangled (at the time) VW Bugs, but because of the huge stash of Hustler magazines she had on her back seat. I love an open-minded woman.

2. When Allison came onshore, dropped 6" of rain, went north, turned around and camped over Houston (dropping 16" of rain in my neighborhood in 10 hours), we had just moved into our house. We (myself, frequent blog guest Denny, and another guy) sat on the porch watching the waters rise until the beer ran out (around 4 AM). The Wife, wisely deciding there was nothing to be done by sitting up and worrying, had gone to bed. I operate on a higher level of neurosis, and was fretting over potential flooding of my nifty new abode. As it turns out, the water never got closer than 15 feet to the house, and I'm pretty confident that if we made it through Allison, we can make it through anything, water-wise.

It's the wind that worries me. Our neighborhood is 60 years old, and we have some massive pine trees. If current models showing Rita hitting somewhere near Matagorda hold up, I think we might be all right. But again, we're still too far our to be sure.

Oh well, anything to keep our minds of that hurricane out there, that may make landfall as a category 3 hurricane, leading to a storm of media coverage, lots of hurricane related damage and possibly prompting calls for the Miami Hurricanes to change their name, right?

Hurricane.

For those obsessing about this like myself, here are a couple places to hang out and savor that icy ball of dread in your stomach:

SciGuy - The Chronicle's Eric Berger
Wunder Blog - Dr. Jeff Masters' hurricane updates
National Hurricane Center - NOAA updates

Let the freaking out begin

God must really hate New Orleans if he's still taking shots at its residents living in other cities:

I realize these things are subject to enormous changes with five days to go, but...shit. Maybe we should just pack up and head out now to beat the rush. Then again, there are at least two models I've seen that have it hitting NOLA. Now might not be the best time for those guys to move back.

Talk to me in a couple of days.

And on a weekend, too. Just once, couldn't we get one of these on a Wednesday?

Dismember the Alamo

We may be moving to the suburbs sooner than I thought:

Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas, the Austin-based theater chain that combines dinner and a movie, plans to open a Katy site on Dec. 1.

Alamo Mason Park will be in the Mason Park Shopping Center at 531 S. Mason Road near Kingsland Boulevard. The 29,000-square-foot facility will seat 900 and employ 150 full-and part-time staff members, said Terrell Braly, Alamo Drafthouse's CEO.

"Katy is growing tremendously, and its demographic fits our company's target audience," Braly said. "Most of our customers are hip and cool, and while you think the suburbs wouldn't be like that, we know people are just dying for something like this out there."

Oh no you didn't just diss Baytown.

Alamo Drafthouse has six theaters, including four in Austin and one in San Antonio. The chain's only Houston theater is at West Oaks Mall.

What a crock of shit. They've already got "something like this out there." West Oaks is 15 minutes from Katy, anyone living closer to town than, oh, Memorial City Mall has a longer drive, and that's 80% of the population.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but this hardly seems like ideal placement:

Though I'm sure all the "hip and cool" B-movie fans in Fulshear and San Felipe are happy as clams.

Inside an Alamo Drafthouse theater, customers sit at tables and order from a menu that includes pizza, sandwiches and 30 brands of draft beer, which are served during the films.

"Our concessions earn four times what a typical theater makes on its concession stands," Braly said.

He expects to serve 2,000 customers in Katy each weekend night.

Houston proper supports three limited release movie houses in addition to the glut of monstro-plexes sprinkled around the metro area. Plop one of these babies in Rice Village, or West U, or the Galleria, and you'll haul in more than 2000 a night.

Or is the argument here that Katy's hipsters don't have enough to do out in the sticks to distract them from their placid, joyless lifestyle? It wasn't bad enough you're screwing up the freeways because you don't want to spend more than 30 minutes to drive 30 miles, now you're depriving us of another Alamo Drafthouse.

At the very least, think of your city's beleaugered movie reviewers. If I have to sit through the latest heap of offal starring Reese Witherspoon, at least let me order a bucket of beer to ease the pain.

Besides, do you know how much a cab ride to my house from West Oaks Mall costs?

"I went to AstroWorld on mushrooms and I had a shitty time."

I swear I was on top of the whole story about AstroWorld closing down when it broke a couple of days ago, but I couldn't really dredge up too much outrage at the news. As Tom so ably points out in his entry on the subject, AstroWorld wasn't originally a Six Flags theme park, and Six Flags didn't spend as much on it as on its other places, lending AW a growing patina of sleaze over the last decade or so.

I haven't been there in a few years, but even then it was obvious the place wasn't making a lot of money. Combine that with persistent parking issues and a dawning realization that wandering around a cement enclosure in 96 degree weather isn't exactly "amusing," and its fate was pretty much sealed.

My only regret is that, after October 29, there won't be any roller coasters closer than San Antonio. I consider scaring the bejeezus out of oneself on possibly hazardous rides to be a staple of one's upbringing, and since I don't want my daughter lacking in her appreciation of the finer things, I guess we'll just to move to Eureka, MO in order to be closer to Six Flags over Mid-America.

We'll work out the whole school/job/quality of life thing later.

They asked for it

The Sony publicist has seen fit to dispense a seemingly endless number of passes for this Thursday night's screening of The Cave. What is The Cave, you ask? Why:

Deep in the Romanian forest, a team of scientists stumbles upon the ruins of a 13th century Abbey. On further inspection, they make a startling discovery - the Abbey is built over the entrance to a giant underground cave system. Local biologists belive the cave could be home to an undiscovered eco-system, so they hire a group of American cave-explorers to help them investigate its depths.

Jack (Cole Hauser) and his brother Tyler (Eddie Cibrian) are thrill-seeking professional cave explorers who run a team of the top divers in the world. They arrive in Romania with all the latest equipment, including a new type of scuba tank allowing a diver to remain submerged for up to 24 hours. The crack unit, which also includes Charlie (Piper Perabo) and Buchanan (Morris Chestnut), immediately begin their exploration. But what they find deep inside the caves is not just a new eco-system, but an entirely new species altogether...

Aw yeah, the patented August Derleth ellipsis. Add to that the fact the only screening is the night before it opens and you've got some quality horror, though not too horrific:

MPAA Rating: PG-13 (for intense creature violence)

There's no violence like intense creature violence.

Each pass is good for two people. Hit me up in the comments or on e-mail and I'll send you one. It's this Thursday, August 25, 7:30 PM at a near-Loop theater (obviously this is for the Houston folk).

Oh, and I won't be there. Sony and Miramax have, in their infinite wisdom, decided to schedule both big movies opening this weekend on the same night, at the same time. As I am a bigger fan of Terry Gilliam than [checks press materials] Bruce Hunt, I'll be at The Brothers Grimm.

We're #1

Pay no attention to that doodyhead Norbizness, with his bagging on the Lone Star State. Sure, we may be dead last in the percent of 19-35 month-old children who are fully immunized, and second-to-last in average monthly benefit per participant in WIC, but we're tops in energy consumption (11,501 trillion BTU), and 2nd in teen birth rate (69.2 per 1000).

What's more, Houston is now famous for something else: illegal cough syrup consumption:

The abuse of a codeine-fortified cough syrup is so widespread among youths here that Houston has become nationally known in the rap culture as "the City of Syrup," a local researcher says.
[...]
The syrup has been used at least once by about 30 percent of teenagers in the Houston area, says Ron Peters, a professor at the University of Texas School of Public Health in Houston.

Newsflash: Teens use medicines and other household objects to get high.

Kids these days, they don't know how good they have it. We were stuck with whip-its and hitting up Albertson's patrons to buy us beer, and we liked it.

But the widespread use of codeine with promethazine is widely believed to have begun in Houston, along with the popularity of a type of rap music developed by local record producer D.J. Screw, who died in 2000 of an overdose of the drug he promoted in his songs.

The producer, whose real name was Robert Earl Davis Jr., developed a slowed-down form of rap called "screw" that extols the use of prescription cough syrup known on the street by such names as "syrup, lean, purple, syzurp, drank or purple jelly."

Now, Houston rappers such as nationally known Mike Jones lace their "screw" music with such lyrics as, "I keep that purple stuff in my cup," a reference to mixing cough syrup with soft drinks.

Well why didn't you say so? I think I heard one of those "screw" songs a few years back:

When the weight of the world has got you down
and you want to end your life.
Bills to pay, a dead-end job,
and problems with the wife.
But don't throw in the towel,
'cuz there's a place right down the block...
Where you can drink your misery away...
At Flaming Moe's....
When liquor in a mug
can warm you like a hug.
And happiness is just a Flaming Moe away...
Happiness is just a Flaming Moe away...

Love that "rap" music.

[sources say] the drug is most often made available by unscrupulous doctors.

Peters said users sometimes obtain a legitimate prescription by faking a serious cough.

There's your problem. Anybody who's lived in Houston long enough doesn't have to "fake" a serious cough.

"All we want is life beyond
The Astrodome"

Unsurprisingly, I have little to add to Chuck's excellent coverage of yesterday's town hall meeting about the proposed I-45 expansion. I don't live near I-45, but I share Chuck's (and others') sentiments that if you didn't want to deal with long commutes and shitty traffic, you shouldn't have moved so goddamned far out to begin with. That's the tradeoff for getting a 4-3, 3,500 square ft. hourse for $165K.

But after seeing the headline to his article ("We don't want another Katy Freeway"), I couldn't read it without hearing Tina Turner in my head and visualizing Max taking on Blaster in the Thunderdome.

Just part of the burden of growing up in the '80s, I guess.

At least we're not "crawling with crackheads and debutantes"

That's our Tom:

When House Majority Leader Tom DeLay sat down with reporters on Tuesday on Capitol Hill, he was asked to assess President Bush's campaign in Iraq and to respond to criticism that the military mission is not going well and the White House needs to develop an exit strategy.

DeLay offered this response: "These things take time and they take a long time, and some people get weary of the constant barrage that we see in the media.

"You know, if Houston, Texas, was held to the same standard as Iraq is held to, nobody'd go to Houston, because all this reporting coming out of the local press in Houston is violence, murders, robberies, deaths on the highways," DeLay said.

Scanning the front page of the Houston Chronicle for local stories:

"Lack of rain could have area in severe drought within 2 weeks" - Yes, not being able to water my lawn is infinitely more intimidating than a suicide car bombing that killed 23 people yesterday.

"Woman looking for her date finds three bodies" - Hey, it's a city of five million people. We gots murders.

"Perry apologizes for the 'inappropriate' word" - Those open mikes are a motherfucker, Rick.

"Molotov cocktails lobbed at Westside High School" - Mullah, please. Two of them bounced off a door. Don't call al-Zarqawi, boys: he'll call you.

"Teen who collapsed in court had heart condition" - Could it have been brought on by Houston's notoriously bad air? Or a biological agent? I'm sure Tom will get to the bottom of this.

"Contested Pasadena council race: Best of six?" - Pasadena voters must look pretty ridiculous by now, what with ink on almost all their fingers.

"Jury finds felon guilty in policeman's shooting" - How many of the "felons" shooting policeman in Baghdad have been caught lately, much less tried in a court of law?

"Slaying suspect surrenders in move arranged by Quanell X" - Quanell X is what passes for an "Islamic extremist" in Houston. Pretty scary, I know.

"Critics want voice in toll road planning process" - And yet, no commissioners were assassinated. Sunni constitutional committee members in Iraq aren't quite so lucky.

Wait, he's still talking.

"And if you took that as the image of what is a great city that has an incredible quality of life and an incredible economy, it's amazing to me. Go to Iraq. And see what's actually happening there.

Is it safe to travel outside the Green Zone yet, Tom? Because your implication is that the quality of life and economy of Iraq are comparable to that of Houston, and I haven't needed to wear my flak jacket or take an armored convoy to the mall for, oh, a couple of months now.

Of course, one of the main reasons people are afraid to come to Houston is because Tom Delay lives in such close proximity. It keeps me up at night sometimes, I tell you what.

And you thought your day was bad

Driving Creeping along on "The Snake" (Interstate 10) yesterday at a robust 15 MPH, enjoying the balmy 90 degree afternoon from behind my tinted windows and turbocharged A/C, when I noticed an '80s era van up ahead. We get all kinds of vehicles on our perpetually under-construction highways, so I didn't think too much about it until I pulled up alongside and noticed all of its windows were down.

Again, plenty of peple in this sulphurous bog I call home have a much higher tolerance for heat than yours truly, and plenty of other vehicles on the roadway were likewise ventilated. What set the van apart from the rest were the occupants: four miserable-looking pasty bastards, all with shoulder-length or longer hair, sweating like a concierge at the hotel hosting the Cinderella Man publicity tour. One could actually see the gleam of perspiration running down their flushed faces.

As the van pulled a little ahead of me, I glanced at the plates: Wisconsin.

Now, for all I know their air conditioning conked out between San Antonio and Katy, but I understand that A/C isn't standard issue in all cars north of the Mason-Dixon line. So it's entirely possible these guys actually drove all the way from the "Forward" state (the official fish is the muskie!) to Texas in June without climate control, leading me to believe they're either woefully ignorant, certifiably insane, or they just ran out of weed.

Welcome to Texas, fellas. There's a reason we don't have a lot of longhairs here, and it isn't (entirely) because we hate hippies.

"Janine, someone with your qualifications would have no trouble finding a top-flight job in either the food service or housekeeping industries."

Janine probably attended an HISD high school:

Houston ISD students could earn high school diplomas without taking a single math or science class after their sophomore year under a proposal that is drawing criticism from some national education experts.

Critics say the change will leave students unprepared for college and the workplace.

"I'm surprised they would be considering this move," said Anne Tweed, president of the 55,000-member National Science Teachers Association. "That's a step backward."

Surprised? Texas mandates abstinence-only sex ed and proposed putting BMI ratings on report cards, and it ranks at or near the bottom in high school graduation rates. How can anyone be surprised that the school districts are enthusiastically joining the effort to turn our state into Dogpatch?

Only this time, Li'l Abner and Daisy Mae won't be allowed to wear such revealing clothing.

Superintendent Abe Saavedra wants to do away with a policy that mandates three years of math and science courses for all high school students. Instead, students who pass high school-level courses in the eighth grade would get credit toward a diploma. State law requires three math and science credits to graduate.

Saavedra's proposal, which is expected to win school board approval today, runs counter to a national trend of school systems requiring students to spend more time in math and science classes before they graduate. The decision is even more curious, some education experts said, given the fact that more than two-thirds of HISD's 2004 graduates who enrolled in local community colleges last fall were required to take remedial courses.

Two-thirds just doesn't cut it in today's cutthroat academic environment, dammit. Saavedra won't be happy until 100% of those graduates are forced to spend extra tuition dollars learning subjects they were once taught in public school.

I had to double check to make sure Saavedra wasn't a trustee with the Houston Community College System.

Saavedra told school board trustees earlier this week that the three-year requirement is unnecessary. It was adopted in 2001, he said, because trustees wanted high school juniors taking math and science classes at the same time they take the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills exam, which students must pass to graduate.

The current policy is based more on improving test performance than on academic quality, Saavedra said. What matters, he said, is that students take the necessary courses. "We absolutely are not lowering the standard," Saavedra said.

Still, Saavedra acknowledged that having high school students take more math and science classes would better prepare them for college. "If we required four years of math, it would work toward reducing the remedial requirement," he said. "I'm not telling you I won't come back with that kind of recommendation (in the future)."

He's really earning that $384K salary isn't he? Somebody give him a high five.

[For HISD students, "five" = (the number of semesters of Fundamentals of Math you'll be required to take at HCC) + (the number of shits the superintendent apparently doesn't give about your education).]

Tuesday Offspring Blogging: Kate and Ali G

Festival season is winding down here in Houston, for even though we've had a disturbingly pleasant spring, smothering humidity and temps in the 90s are just around the corner. Houstonians have to squeeze a lot into the month and a half of April and early May so we won't feel quite so guilty about cowering in our air conditioned homes from June to October.

One of the last hurrahs for us is the International Festival. Held downtown near Tranquility Park (except for 2004, when it was disastrously moved to Reliant Stadium), the I-Fest features a different country each year (this year was India, 2006 will be Jamaica), and one large section of the festival is devoted to showcasing food, music, dance, and overpriced merchandise from the featured nation.

Needless to say, if this was all there was to see, the festival wouldn't draw much of a crowd. That's why you can always find a wider variety of food, drink (provided you consider beer, margaritas, and Goya beverages a "wide variety"), and - most of all - music. Last weekend offered zydeco, reggae, folk, country, and various Doobie Brother/ZZ Top clones.

She Who Shall Not Be Named, in case it wasn't obvious by now, is a big music fan. Her appreciation runs across genres, though she seems to share her mother's predilection for female singer-songwriters (looks like the Fear CDs will have to stay in the desk for now). Also, being a toddler, her interest in live music is sparked as much by the sounds as it is with the people up on stage.

Which goes a long way towards explaining her fascination with The Neutral Sisters.

When the two fair-skinned young ladies in Rastafarian red, black, and green skirts got up on stage and started talking to the audience in a heavy Jamaican patois, I thought it was a joke. The Wife and I found ourselves looking around to see if an HBO crew was nearby filming for Da Ali G Show, but they were for real (born in Kenya, raised in London and Jamaica), and their music really wasn't all that bad.

SWSNBN got right up in front, of course, and elicited a smile and a wave from one of the sisters (Kyra, I think). I had just enough time to consider all the action I could be getting from hot bohemian women by hauling my daughter around to live music shows when The Wife pelted me with a plastic cup and ordered asked me to get her another beer.

The Neutral Sisters aren't really my bag (the last reggae album I bought was Mama Africa by Peter Tosh), and music with a "positive message" usually causes me to develop a spontaneous case of IBS, but once you got past the dialect, they were all right. Which leads me to think my kid might have better taste than I originally gave her credit for. That band she liked at the Bluebonnet Festival was pretty good, after all, and she slept right through those stupid hippies and their bullshit "noise orchestra" (also at this year's International Festival).

If only Lilith Fair was still going on. That would be a fine place for my...uh, research.

At the late night/dubbed or indie/picture show

Worldfest is going on right now here in Houston. It's in its 38th year and still showcases an impressive array of foreign and indie films. I saw Distortion, from Israel, last night and hope to check out as many more flicks in the coming days as real life and other screenings allow.

The festival has moved to the Meyer Park AMC, after spending most of its run at the Nova Meyerland 8, which was torn down in 2003. While I still applaud the organizers' decision to keep everything in one theater (the multiple venue approach taken by most other festivals just won't work in Houston), I miss the staff and the feel of the old place.

Some things never change, however. Festival poobah Hunter Todd still comes in to introduce each feature, and I'm still trying to narrow down my choices to a select few given my time constraints.

Tickets are easy to come by though, and screenings are taking place all week and into this weekend (schedules and synopses area accessible from the main page). Come by and check it out if you get a chance.

Then he wants to burn their houses down and piss on the ashes

There was a Pat Oliphant cartoon from the late '80s, during the debate over a Constitutional flag burning amendment, that said the one occasion when it was absolutely okay to burn the American flag was when Newt Gingrich had wrapped himself in it. I think we might need an addendum to that:

Somehow I managed to go a whole week without bringing up the fact that Houston hosted the National Rifle Association's 134th annual convention. I knew it was too good to last:

With an assault weapon in each hand, rocker and gun rights advocate Ted Nugent urged National Rifle Association members to be "hardcore, radical extremists demanding the right to self defense."

Speaking at the NRA's annual convention Saturday, Nugent said each NRA member should try to enroll 10 new members over the next year and associate only with other members.
...
He drew the most cheers when he told gun owners they should never give up their right to bear arms and should use their guns to protect themselves if needed.

"Remember the Alamo! Shoot 'em!" he screamed to applause. "To show you how radical I am, I want carjackers dead. I want rapists dead. I want burglars dead. I want child molesters dead. I want the bad guys dead. No court case. No parole. No early release. I want 'em dead. Get a gun and when they attack you, shoot 'em."

The fuck? "Remember the Alamo?" I suppose if your domicile is overrun by the Mexican army, you should probably shoot back. Other than that, I think Nugent - a recent transplant to the great state of Texas - might be missing some important historical context.

As for wanting rapists dead, Ted's lucky the father of the 17 year-old girl he "adopted" back in the '70s didn't feel the same way.

Or maybe statutory rape doesn't count.

Into the Black

Must be stand-up comedy week on APCB...

I've been a fan of Lewis Black for a while now. His was the first live comedy show I saw after 9-11, and he was a welcome voice of reason. I catch him on The Daily Show when I can, and while I didn't exactly warm up to his "Black on Broadway" HBO special, there were some decent jokes.

Besides, given our common backgrounds (he's a 50-something Jew from back East, I'm a 30-something ex-Catholic from Texas), how could I not be a fan?

He's playing the Improv here in town tomorrow night. I won't be able to check that out (Interpreter screening, woo hoo), so I headed down to Borders to catch him doing a Q&A and book signing last night. He fielded some pretty good questions (Q: "What did Jon Stewart bring The Daily Show that Craig Kilborn lacked?" A: "A working intelligence.") and signed my book. It was almost worth standing in line ahead of a group of sweaty high school wannabe comedian dorks who seemed to have trouble restraining themselves from repeating Eddie Murphy bits ad nauseum.

Finally, because I'm not one to forget the role Borders played in the destruction of the Ale House, I boosted a copy of the Revenge of the Sith novel. Anarchy!

Okay, I actually used an old coupon. Parsimony!

Saturday night's all right for bocce

I made a passing reference earlier this week to Han's Bier Haus on Quenby in the Village here in Houston. Well, tonight is their grand opening, so take advantage of the beautiful weather and head down there for a few pints and some bocce ball. You'll have a good time and you'll help our friends Jackie and Paul off to a good start.

And I'll be there, too. But don't let that keep you away.

Macho means never having to say you're sorry

Embarrassed by your yellow-bellied elected officials? Get your asses down to Pearland, TX and meet a real man:

Since we�ve started dropthehammer.org - a site designed to pressure corporations to stop contributing to Tom DeLay�s legal defense trust - we�ve received a lot of email from people around the country expressing their views on our efforts. This one from Councilman Kevin Cole of Pearland, Texas caught our attention:

Hey ass hole [sic]. Tom Delay happens to be my congresman [sic] and I am happy with the job he does for me and my district. Why don�t you get the F@&* out of our district and leave us alone. Better yet, come speak to me personally and I will show you what I think of you.

Kevin Cole
Pealrand [sic], TX
[Cell Phone # Redacted]

Mr. Cole is also a Baptist deacon.

You tell 'em, Kev. There's nothing better than a local government figure trying to bully someone for voicing their opinion.

DeLay has to be breathing easier, knowing he has loyal (and articulate) supporters like his backing him up.

Dear Astros

I realize yesterday was opening day, and in the spirit of the event you have to do all sorts of stunts and goofy publicity crap. And while I'm sure the flyover of Minute Maid Park by those fighter jets was quite impressive, in the future I'd request that you maybe alter their flight plan so that they don't come screaming over my neighborhood some 500 feet off the ground.

Once we switched on the TV and determined we weren't under attack (or if we were, it was being pre-empted by baseball coverage), the planes' purpose became clear. Even so, judging by the fact that half the people on our street were outside, gazing skyward with obvious apprehension (the planes cricled for a good five minutes), maybe you could have those guys come in from the southeast next time. People are a mite squirrely these days.

I reckon losing to the Cards is no less than you deserve.

Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

Our long local nightmare is over:

Roger Clemens' prized burnt orange Hummer, stolen from his son's high school during classes Wednesday, was later found dumped in a southwest Houston parking lot.

No arrests had been made Wednesday night. A tip to Crime Stoppers helped officers find the vehicle, police said.

The famous truck was stolen from the Memorial High School on Echo Lane near the Katy Freeway around 8:30 a.m. after Clemens' son, Koby, an 18-year-old senior at the school, parked it there. The vehicle was in fine condition when it was recovered later that afternoon in a parking lot in the Bissonnet and Dairy Ashford area, said Spring Branch Independent School District Police Chief Chuck Brawner.

I'll just bet it was in fine condition. Speaking from my own personal high school vehicular experience, they first might want to confirm the whereabouts of Koby's friends during the time the Hummer was missing.

It's possible, however unlikely, that someone was dumb enough to steal an orange Hummer. The fact that the car wasn't driven all that far lends credence to that. But all it takes is giving someone access to your keys for a moment, however, and you find yourself coming home from a band trip to find your alarm activated and beer cans and Taco Bell wrappers strewn across the floorboards of your beloved '75 Buick.

Not that I'm singling anyone out, peenman.

The baseball great, 42, a father of four sons, spoke with Brawner on the phone Wednesday morning and caught a plane back to Houston.

Hell, there's your answer: they ditched the car as soon as they heard Koby's dad was on his way back. Say what you want about Clemens, that sumbitch is big.

Rumors of Wayne Dolcefino's involvement in this investigation have been quashed

Welcome to Houston, our local news coverage blows the pants off the competition:

A "3-foot rule" is supposed to keep strippers a certain distance from customers, but not all topless entertainers are following that law, according to a Local 2 investigation Wednesday.

On a recent Saturday night at a local strip club, Local 2's undercover cameras caught a topless dancer sitting in a client's lap while he rubbed his hands up and down her body. She was only wearing a g-string. By law, it should not have happened.

Eight years ago, Houston's City Council fought to pass the ordinance that regulates sexually oriented businesses. So, it's currently illegal for a dancer to touch a customer or his clothing while entertaining or exposing private parts.

In case you missed it, this was a typical sweeps period broadcast for our local networks: neck down shots of gyrating dancers and grainy hidden camera footage of the incident in question. So important was this earthshaking report, it led the news ahead of the story about a guy murdered and left in the middle of Wayside on the southeast side of town.

Local 2 took its undercover video to State Rep. Martha Wong. She was a Houston city council member when the ordinance passed.

"I don't need to see any more," Wong said.

She insisted on the 3-foot rule eight years ago. Now, she is insisting that customers and strippers abide by the law.

"I hope there are members of council who are going to question the police chief on why he's not enforcing the laws that are on the books and insisting that he do so and also letting the mayor know that we are not going to put up with this," Wong said.

Wong said she is ready to take the matter to the state capital, if Houston City Council or law enforcement officers don't take action.

Good to see the spirit of limited government is alive and well in the Republican party. Maybe these same council members could remind Martha "No Thong" Wong (as Chuck calls her) that Houston cops, facing a manpower shortage of some 700 officers in the coming year, have better things to do than making sure Midori With One "R" isn't rubbing her buttocks against Joe Change Management Consultant's crotch.

Happily, the Mayor echoes my feelings. Or does he?

"There's too many strip clubs. There's too much abuses that occur within them," [Mayor White] said. "I'm not for taking police off investigations or responding to calls for service, reducing our response time in order to shut down every strip joint and comply with the law. I think the law should be enforced."

Say what? How's that going to happen? Will every patron of Rick's get the equivalent of one of those doggy shock collars for his genitals? Let Chastity get too close, and you're risking a nasty shock to the yarbles.

Local 2 showed the undercover tape to Lt. Robert Manzo of the Houston Police Department. He said his department investigates complaints, but the people closest to the action rarely call.

"Obviously, you wouldn't expect the customer to call about the dancer violating the 3-foot rule. And that's another reason for us not to get hardly any complaints," Manzo said.

The obvious solution would seem to be hiring, as undercover agents, those most offended by actions taking place in a windowless building far away from the eyes of "the children." Unfortunately, it's not yet known how they'd reconcile their well-known proscriptions against alcohol and smut with paying a $15 cover charge and abiding by the two-drink minimum.

What century is this again?

Unbelievable:

A spike in anti-Semitic vandalism and other possible hate crimes across Houston in recent months has alarmed police and set the Jewish community on edge, investigators and activists said Wednesday.

Since September, 14 such crimes have been reported in the Greater Houston area.

Eight occurred in a three-week period in December, said Martin Cominsky, regional director of the Anti-Defamation League.

All in retaliation for killing Jesus, no doubt.

I guess the only thing worse than a bunch of dipshit rednecks with a case of Olympia is a bunch of dipshit rednecks with a case of Olympia who've just rented The Passion of the Christ.

Most of the crimes involve vandalism at public places, including houses of worship and a Jewish community center. But there have also been threatening messages left on answering machines at synagogues in Houston and The Woodlands.

Police are concerned the crimes could eventually escalate to violent acts if the perpetrators aren't stopped.
...
In some cases, the words "Juden Raus" � meaning "Jews Out" � were painted on sidewalks and benches in southwest Houston. The slogan was the title of an infamous board game in Germany during the 1930s that capitalized on the Nazi era, but sold poorly.

Well, at least it sold poorly. Think about how much worse the Holocaust would've been if it had outsold the Berlin version of "Monopoly." Or the home version of the Beer Hall Putsch.

I am - big surprise - something of a cynical person, so I shouldn't be stunned into gaping slack-jawed at a story in the newspaper about ignorant twerps writing Juden Raus in the year Two Thousand Aught-freaking-Five. In a sick way, it's refreshing to know I can still be surprised.

Swastikas also were painted on eight of the large red domes decorating overpasses along the Southwest Freeway, and vulgarities regarding Jews were painted on a wall at a Montrose restaurant.

Swastikas and slogans such as "Jews Die" and "Aliens" were scratched into the doors of Congregation Brith Shalom in Bellaire and Congregation Emanu El.

I want to believe this is just the work of stupid kids, and not the beginning of some sort of coordinated anti-Semitic campaign of intimidation and violence. But after several years where the Muslim community bore the brunt of white supremacist activities, anti-Jewish crimes are on the rise again, not just in Houston, but in Los Angeles and the Northeast as well. The National Alliance held a major recruiting drive at the Daytona 500 last Sunday, and neo-Nazi music label "Panzerfaust" Records is conducting something it calls "Project Schoolyard," which involves passing out sampler CDs to schools.

Here's the track listing, taken from the ADL website:

1. Bound for Glory: "Tornado"
2. H8Machine: "Wrecking Ball"
3. Max Resist: "Ballad of Johnny Rebel"
4. Bound for Glory: "Hate Train Rolling"
5. Brutal Attack: "Under the Hammer"
6. Final War: "Tales of Honor"
7. Bound for Glory: "Teutonic Uprise"
8. Before God: "The Last Line of Defense"
9. Youngland: "Waitin' for the Ride"
10. Midtown Boot Boys: "White Kids"
11. Max Resist: "Ghost"
12. Fortress: "Commie Scum"
13. Rebel Hell: "Thirst for Conquest"
14. Bully Boys: "Jig Run"
15. Youngland: "American Justice"
16. Final War: "The Nationalist"
17. Day of the Sword: "White Supremacy"
18. Aggressive Force: "Might is Right"
19. Fortress: "Parasite"
20. Skrewdriver: "The Snow Fell"

I would dearly love to see them try to pass that around at our local high school (alma mater of Patrick Swayze and The Undertaker, coincidentally).

Huzzah.

What was that noise?

America's most dangerous radio show is set to return to the Houston airwaves.

Somebody resurrected Charles Coughlin?

CC has run out of legaleze protection and the non compete shields are down. Prepare to fire anti boring phasers.

Jesus, is there anything more tired than the self-martyrdom of morning radio DJs? As reluctant as I am to revisit this topic, I will not ignore the fact that somebody saw fit to put these two homunculi back on the air. I hope all of their educated and absolutely in no way homophobic fans enjoy the return of everyone's favorite Rich Little wannabes. Me? I'll still be listening to my Sirius satellite radio in the mornings, thanks.

You remember satellite radio, that's the place with 14 actual rock channels where the DJs are allowed to drop the occasional f-bomb without crapping themselves over an FCC fine. Which differs somewhat from the case of "America's most dangerous radio show," who have to settle for whining about their ill treatment at the hands of those lousy Mexicans. And maybe they'll have a funny "gay impersonator" to distract all of you from the fact that they're not playing any goddamned music.

Thanks, I suppose, to Chuck for the heads up.

Set a course for Planet Druidia

Wait, you mean living in a city that routinely tops "worst air quality" lists and is surrounded by refineries and chemical plants might be bad for one's health? Well, honk my hooter:

People living in some east Harris County neighborhoods, the East End and parts of Texas City are at greater risk of contracting cancer because of toxic chemicals released by the region's industrial plants, according to a state analysis of 2003 air quality data.

State air pollution monitors in Texas City, Galena Park, Houston's East End, Deer Park, Channelview and at the Lynchburg Ferry detected levels of three hazardous chemicals that, if inhaled during a lifetime, would likely generate 29 to 199 additional cases of cancer in a million people. Under normal circumstances, there is a risk of one additional case of cancer developing in a population of 1,000,000.

I can hear the anti-regulation crowd now: "But nobody spends their whole life on the Lynchurg Ferry. What's the big deal?"

"And they call the thing rodeo"

No offense to the fine people at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo ("Electrifying Bull Testicles for 70 Years!), but this year's concert lineup seems a bit weak.

And by "weak," I mean, "depressingly craptastic."

[This entry has gotten annoyingly long, so click on the More link to read the rest]

Tuesday, March 1 - Brooks & Dunn
Wednesday, March 2 - Alan Jackson

It's as I suspected. No new country acts have been discovered in the last 15 years. Worse, for Brooks, Dunn, and Jackson, the evolution of hairstyles stopped in 1987.

Thursday, March 3 � Armed Forces Salute - Neal McCoy, Charlie Daniels Band, Lee Greenwood

Which version of "Uneasy Rider" do you think Charlie Daniels will play? The one where he gets in a fight with rednecks for having long hair, or the 1988 version where he beats up queers?

I almost want to check this out just so I can see how many otherwise manly men break into little girl sobs as Greenwood rips into another stirring rendition of "God Bless the U.S.A." I can see it now: Old Glory on the Jumbotron, thousands of little plastic Made in China American flags waving in the audience. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something in my eye...

Friday, March 4 � Black Heritage Day - Alicia Keys

I imagine the annual planning for Black Heritage Day goes something like this:
Cowboy Executive #1: "They always make such a big deal out of those Prarie View Trail Riders, I guess we ought to give them a night of their own music."
Cowboy Executive #2: "Fine, what inoffensive Negro performer can we find this year?"

Saturday, March 5 - Gretchen Wilson

Wilson has that sleazy Lisa Marie Presley thing going, which I enthusiastically support. Regarding her music, I think I heard them play some on her 60 Minutes interview, but wouldn't recognize it if I heard it again.

As for her real-or-imagined image as a Skoal dippin', whiskey swiggin' redneck gal, I met a girl several years ago in Atlanta who dipped and drank Jim Beam, and she was pretty hot. Especially when yours truly was drunk at 4 in the morning.

Sunday, March 6 � Spring Break Stampede - Hilary Duff

The only way I'd check this out is if Lindsay Lohan parachuted in, Fan Man style, and the set devolved into a kendo deathmatch a la Lucy Liu and Uma Thurman in Kill Bill.

And you know you'd pay to see that, too.

Monday, March 7 � Spring Break Stampede - Jeff Foxworthy, Big & Rich

Congratulations HLSR, I did't think it'd be possible to put together a more unappetizing act than Charlie Daniels and Lee Greenwood, but you managed somehow.

As Jack Sparks is fond of reminding us, "Rich" from "Big & Rich" used to be in the excerable Lonestar. Jeff Foxworthy is allegedly a comedian, though I have yet to see conclusive proof of this.

Tuesday, March 8 � Spring Break Stampede - Keith Urban

Mmmm...Spring Break...

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog! Wanna go down to the Strand to get some ass or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Keith Urban?"
B-Dog: "Who?"
Jonesy: "That country guy who looks like a cross between Owen Wilson and Kato Kaelin."
B-Dog: "Are we out of roofies already?"

Wednesday, March 9 � Spring Break Stampede - Kenny Chesney

I hope he wears that one t-shirt. You know, the one with no sleeves.

Thursday, March 10 � Spring Break Stampede - Rascal Flatts

The only name I can think of for your band that could possible be worse than "Rascal Flatts" is "Unit Shifting Clear Channel Whores." But then, they are kind of synonymous.

Friday, March 11 � Spring Break Stampede - Miller Lite presents Pat Green

I'm actually done hating on Pat Green for now. He was never my taste, to put it mildly, but he carved out a niche and made quite a name for himself down here. It was easy enough to laugh at his good old fratboy shtick back in the day, but his recent homogenization at the hands of his New York label is kinda sad.

Saturday, March 12 � Spring Break Stampede - Martina McBride
Sunday, March 13 � Go Tejano Day - Duelo, Jimmy G y El Grupo Mazz

Got nothin'. I know Martina McBride by name (and that she looks sort of like Katie Couric), and the Go Tejano bands not at all.

Monday, March 14 � Spring Break Stampede - Steve Miller Band

Bachman Turner Overdrive must have been booked at a mall opening somewhere.

The SMB has released ten albums in the last 20 years, 6 of which are either greatest hits compilations or live recordings, and their last original studio release was in 1993. You can find something better to do, even on a Monday night, than line this lazy fucker's pockets some more.

And that's counting CSI: Miami reruns.

Tuesday, March 15 � Spring Break Stampede - Brad Paisley

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog! Wanna go down to the Strand to dose some high school chicks or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Brad Paisley?"
B-Dog: "Who?"
Jonesy: "That country guy who looks like a cross between Jake Gyllenhal and "Vinnie" from Doogie Howser, M.D."
B-Dog: "Which high school?"

Wednesday, March 16 � Spring Break Stampede - Maroon5

I guess the HLSR took my suggestion for an "Emo Night" to heart. Time will tell if they also fill the stadium with VX gas on said night like I recommended.

Thursday, March 17 � Spring Break Stampede - Montgomery Gentry
Friday, March 18 � Spring Break Stampede - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Someone really ought to attend both nights and do a side by side comparison to see which is worse: a Nashville-groomed act at the height of their popularity, or a once-great Southern rock outfit touring on the legacy of former accomplishments.

I'll pay. A copy of Graduation Day (starring Daphne Zuniga!) on DVD or Toby Keith's Greatest Hits. Your choice.

Saturday, March 19 � RODEOHOUSTON� Finals - Clint Black

He'll be introduced, no doubt, by wife Lisa "Remember Me? I Used to be An Actress" Hartman-Black. Fortunately, Houston's Yellow Pages are pretty thick, so he'll have something to stand on.

Sunday, March 20 � RODEOHOUSTON Collegiate Championship - Clay Walker

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog, you wanna go down to the Strand to bash homos or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Clay Walker?"
B-Dog: ...
Jonesy: "He's the country guy who looks like a cross between Matt Damon and Jan-Michael Vincent...B-Dog? Hey Smitty, I think B-Dog choked on his own vomit."
Smitty: "Get his weed."

Man, they couldn't even get Houston's own Destiny's Child to show up. George Strait either, and I thought he was required by law to play. In any event, unless I can get tickets to the bull riding compeition (or as I call it, the Annual Stomping of a Guy's Testicles By a 2,000-Lb. Behemoth He Had No Business Getting Near in the First Place), I'll probably sit this one out.

UPDATE: Quoth Norbizness, in the Comments:

From what my older friend tells me, he saw James Brown at the Livestock Show sometime in the late 60s, and I don't know whether he's fucking lying to me or not.

He's fucking lying to you.

The Rodeo's entertainment roster history can be found here. No James Brown, but plenty of repeat offenders, including:

Alabama (10 appearances)
Clint Black (12)
Brooks & Dunn (13)
Larry Gatlin and the Gatlin Bros. (12)
Crystal Gayle (8)
Vince Gill (10)
Alan Jackson (12)
Reba McEntire (15)
The Oak Ridge Boys (11)

I always assumed George Strait was King of the Rodeo, but at a measly 18 appearances, he's still second to Charley Pride, who's played 20 of them, including a consecutive streak from 1972 to 1989.

Then we have those multiple timers that make so sense. Mac Davis played seven times? Anne Murray played six? Hell, the Osmonds showed up four times, and that's just nutty.

Then there are those that simply defy explanation:

Michael "Cochise" Ansara - 1960
Tony Bennett - 2000
Dan "Hoss" Blocker - 1966
Peabo Bryson - 1995
C&C Music Factory - 1991
David Cassidy - 1972
Shaun Cassidy - 1980
The Cisco Kid and Pancho - 1954
Color Me Badd - 1992
Expos� - 1990
Leif Garrett - 1979
Lorne Greene - 1966
Engelbert Humperdinck - 1973
The Jackson Five - 1973, '74
The Lone Ranger - 1946
Jim Nabors - 1967, '69, '72
Petra - 1987
Styx - 2002
Survivor - 1987
Tony Orlando and Dawn - 1974

David Cassidy and Jim Nabors? 1972 was a hell of a year.

"I don't want no Commies in my car. No Christians either."

Downtown Houston's Bible has gone bye-bye:

A federal appeals court on Monday ordered a Bible removed from a monument outside a Harris County courthouse while the county appeals a federal judge's ruling that the display is unconstitutional.

n August, the 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans temporarily blocked U.S. District Judge Sim Lake's order to remove the Bible.

Kay Staley, a real estate broker and lawyer, sued Harris County in August 2003 claiming the display was offensive to non-Christians.

Lake found that the display at the civil courthouse violated the establishment clause of the First Amendment and gave the county 10 days to remove the Bible last summer. Harris County asked the appeals court to allow the Bible to remain during its appeal.

The appeals court did not address the merits of the case, but said Monday the Bible must be removed and refused to let the homeless mission responsible for the display intervene in the appeal.

Maybe I'm missing something, but why doesn't Star of Hope simply move the monument to one of its four locations in the city? Don't most charitable and/or non-profit organizations usually place plaques or other commerative items honoring patrons on the premises of the organization itself? William Mosher, whom the monument ostensibly honors, wasn't a county court official as far as I can tell, so why the big stink about removing it from government property?

Harris County Judge Robert Eckels, who has defended the display, was traveling and could not immediately be reached for comment Monday by The Associated Press. Eckels' spokeswoman, Gloria Roemer, said Eckels is disappointed with the ruling but would work to comply with the order as the county continues its appeal.

He made it back to town soon enough. I saw him bemoaning the Bible's removal on the 10:00 news, right before publicity whore/pastor Aubrey Vaughn showed up to describe the removal of the Bible as an affront to the very principles our country was founded upon. Because, you know, Christ created America for His chosen people. Or something.

As if to hammer that last point home, the reporter's final comments were made in front of the (now empty) monument, over which someone had draped an American flag. Only this version of the flag had a cross where the stars usually go. I shit you not.

That's good Jesus.

Fat City redux

The Astros may have fallen just short of the World Series, but Houston will always be #1 at something, it appears:

One minute Mayor Bill White debunked Men's Fitness magazine's methodology for labeling Houston the nation's fattest city, and the next minute he announced a new wellness initiative to combat the label.

"It's calculated with voodoo and fraud," White said of the rankings of 50 cities across the nation featured in the magazine's February issue, with Houston back in fattest place.

The magazine put Houston in second place last year, behind Detroit, but for three straight years before that Houston topped the list of heavyweights.

To determine the rankings, the magazine staff does not actually weigh anyone, but examines 14 elements of city life, including the number of fast food and pizza restaurants.

Hey, everything's bigger in Texas.

Of course they don't weigh anyone. Hard data might actually throw a wrench into that whole (# of fast food joints)/(# of gyms) formula that forms the basis for their annual publicity whoring. Sure, bad air quality and a climate that makes us stock up on Gold Bond in the summer doesn't help, but this isn't Mercury, you idiots. Plenty of people still work out and play sports outdoors in this city, even in August. If anything, that makes our citizens tougher than those in the alleged #1 fittest city, Seattle. How much intestinal fortitude does it take to strap on the running shoes when it's 60 degress and overcast every damn day?

Results of the creative formula differ from the findings of more official medical research. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, for example, has ranked Houston high � but not highest � in studies of obesity in American cities.

However, the magazine's annual report gets it a lot of publicity and elicits response.

Mayor White's response to this is all wrong. He shouldn't be going on the Today Show with the editor of Men's Fitness and declaring bold new health initiatives, he should challenge him to an eat-off. We'll declare our champion, probably Steve McKinney of the Texans, and afterwards - when the editor is lying prostrate on the ground below a half empty platter of Shipley's glazed donuts and crawfish - White can smother him with a chicken fried steak before planting a Texas flag in his chest.

At his fat-fighting news conference, White said the magazine editor told him if Houston follows through on the initiative, it likely will drop below fifth place next year, but the mayor has a bigger goal in mind.

"Let's get off that list," he said.

You've got bigger things to worry about, Mr. Mayor. Ignore these metrosexual assholes, get the firefighters a new contract, and resolve this pension thing. If it'll help, I'll switch to "lite" beer for the next month week or so.

Snow?

Driving around Friday running various errands (booze for the egg nog being of primary concern) I hit snow flurries on three sepearate occasions. Houston drivers deserve credit for not freaking out like they typically do when it rains (in a city that gets 60" a year on average, no less). We had some nice accumulation on the cars that night, though - it being a holiday - the usual panic accompanying a 1/2" of snowfall was comfortably absent.

I guess it doesn't technically count as a white Christmas, but we sub-tropical residents will take what we can get. Those of you living above the Mason-Dixon line can cease your snickering now.

As for gifts, I hear that the greenlight has been given to the Flavor Flav-Brigitte Nielsen reality show. Obviously Santa got my letter.

Karma, despite its pleasant appearance and inoffensive aroma, is still a bitch

Houston's only "hard rock" radio station has switched formats (registration required):

KLOL, 101.1 FM announced Friday that station has changed formats. The station switched from a classic rock format to a Latino music format branded as Mega 101.

The station's web site was listed as under construction, but KLOL's former morning show hosts Walton and Johnson announced on their web site that they were informed Thursday night of the change.

The radio hosts stated on WaltonandJohnson.com that, "Thursday night Walton and Johnson were informed by lower-level management sources via a last-minute phone call that there would be no Walton and Johnson Show tomorrow. In it's place would be Hispanic music programs."

I could't bring myself to listen to Walton and Johnson, whose strange blend of unfunny comedy, right-wing whining, and leaden faux on-air personalities comprised some of the worst radio I've heard since 1986, when I drove through Oklahoma. On a Sunday. With nothing but an AM receiver. Even so, they claim on their website that their show was the "top-ranked (non-ethnic) morning show in Houston" in their demographic.

For comparison, APCB is the highest ranked blog not written by anyone other than a 30-something guy named Pete who lives in Houston.

I'm not important enough to get the Arbitron book, but at least two other web sites that track such things (including R&R.com) puts KLOL's overall ratings at 16th in Houston. Remove the "ethnic" stations ahead of it (KBXX, KLTN, KMJQ, KPTY, KOVE, and KHJZ), and KLOL moves up to a solid 10th place (hell, they're below two AM stations). I can't verify their claim about the morning 25-54 year-old market, but assuming those stations playing "non-white" music do better in the AM, that still leaves W&J 7th overall. Pretty weak.

Of course, KLOL's been going down the tubes since long before those two Mongoloids came along. Clear Channel's acquisition of the station further diluted an already depleted playlist. And with the songs they were playing readily available on three other stations in the area, KLOL's existence was no longer required. I mean, what does "hard rock" mean anymore, anyway? Metal? Not much call for that round here. Face it, most of the "rock" genre fits in just fine with "classic rock" - which these days includes Nirvana - while the newer stuff gets played on "alternative" stations.

Then again, maybe the Houston area cycling lobby is more powerful than we thought.

Wolfen 2

River Oaks Boogaloo:

Fears are running high that coyotes living in Memorial Park's isolated areas are wandering farther afield, bringing them into contact with joggers and residents of the city's toniest neighborhood, River Oaks.

"I've grown up with animals all my life. I know my animals. These were coyotes. This shouldn't happen in the middle of the city," said [River Oaks resident Hailey] Schiller, 19, who says she and her parents have seen coyotes lurking around their neighborhood.

On Tuesday, Harris County Commissioners Court asked county departments to join forces with the city animal control and parks departments in trapping and relocating coyotes.

Seems to me that if all you've got are county departments and city animal control working on this, they aren't going to get relocated very far. More likely they'll just ship them to the Humble or Tomball and wash their hands off it. The rationale being there are so many stray dogs running around out there already, who's going to notice?

The city doesn't want to take the stance that coyotes have to be exterminated, but it will work to remove animals that pose a threat to children or pets, Trahan said.

Coyotes are a highly adaptable animal, living on open ranges and in big cities. Bayous, deserts and hidden urban nooks can all serve as homes.

Coyotes typically run in packs and usually don't view humans as prey, said Sharon Joseph, Houston Zoo's director of animal programs.

Unless, and I'm just spitballing here, there aren't a lot of rabbits or small mammals to feed on. Then they'll go after the pets. Chained down inside a fenced-in backyard, it's like their very own lobster tank.

Now the Hogg's diabolical plan for the Park is finally coming into focus. The land wasn't meant to be set aside for human recreation, but as a hunting range. What could be more sporting for packs of ravening coyotes than a bunch of joggers? Or a woman running with her dogs? For variety, take a breather by chasing down some poor 300-pounder just beginning an exercise regimen.

The coyotes would have a few freeways to cross to get to my house from Memorial Park, but even if they manage to make it here, my money's still on the possum living in my backyard. That sumbitch is huge.

"It's eclipsing! It's eclipsing!"

"Oh slug-a-moon, oh slug-a-moon, grant thy faithful hedgehog's boon:"

The bright lights and sprawling suburbs of Houston typically obscure most celestial events, making urban skywatching a poor pursuit.

Tonight, however, offers an enticing exception. A total lunar eclipse will begin at 9:23 p.m. and last for more than an hour. This event, during which the moon falls in the Earth's shadow, is easily visible from even the most well-lit neighborhoods.

It's also relatively rare that such an eclipse is visible from North America and comes early in the evening, but after sunset, to make it accessible to families.

"Aw, Mom...can't we TiVo the sunset? Lost is on."

If even 1 in 100 families here in Houston actually manage to pry their asses off the couch to go look at tonight's eclipse, I'll run naked through East St. Louis with nothing but a Red Sox logo on my chest.

Fortunately, this is one of those challenges that's not easily quantifiable.

For darker skies, viewers can make the trip to the George Observatory in Brazos Bend State Park, about an hour's drive southwest of Houston.

The observatory's director, Barbara Wilson, suggested people arrive between 7 and 8 p.m. The entrance fee is $3 for adults, and children younger than 12 can enter for free. In addition to smaller telescopes and binoculars, the observatory will sell tickets, for a small fee, to peer at the eclipse through its larger 36-inch telescope.

Although the eclipse will be viewable from all parts of Houston, Wilson said darker skies at the observatory will enhance the experience. Not only will the colors on the surface of the eclipsed moon be more vibrant, she said, many more stars will appear after the moon darkens.

"Under a dark country sky," Wilson said, "the darkness is much more dramatic."

"'Cause it's so...dark, and all. You really can't get a feel for just how darking dark that darkness is. Did I mention the Darkness will be playing? And there'll be screenings of Pitch Black, Darkness Falls, and Near Dark (for the kids)?"

"Call me Snake."

The funny thing about this story is that an 8-foot python is relatively tame compared to some of the other potentially lethal fauna living in the Houston area:

A northwest Houston movie house has temporarily closed its doors after a maintenance worker reported seeing an 8-foot snake slithering along the wall of a theater auditorium, the company said Wednesday. A janitor was cleaning the Tinseltown movie theater on the Northwest Freeway about 2 a.m. Sept. 22 when he spotted a snake about as thick as a man's arm between the first row of seats and the screen, said Terrell Falk, vice president of marketing and communications for Cinemark USA Inc.

"As soon as he saw it, he left," she said.

"I think everyone who was working left."

I blame Hollywood for the animal's escape. A lifetime's worth of exposure to snake defamation in movies has obviously colored the poor janitor's perception to the point he actually thinks an 8-foot python can chase him, rip the still-beating heart from his chest, and show it to him before he dies.

Or maybe I'm getting my movies confused.

The theater opened for its afternoon screenings on schedule, about 10 hours after the sighting.

But as soon as the corporate office heard about the incident, the local management halted all movies in progress, gave customers refunds or rain checks and cleared out the building, said Falk.

"We don't know what it is, or if it is still there," she said, "but just to be cautious, we thought we should close the building."

Why? Unless you're in the habit of leaving your infant or small pets unattended - in the theater - for long periods of time, what's the danger of this snake doing anything besides possibly scaring the bejeezus out of a bunch of people watching First Daughter? And wouldn't it serve them right?

Texas Snakes and More, a Houston-based company that removes snakes and shows homeowners how to keep their abodes snake-free, also has been put on the case.

The company's owner set up children's plastic booster seats and small glue traps Wednesday around the edges of the building, office manager Michelle Pustejovsky said.

Evidence that the booster seats or glue traps have moved, she explained, would indicate a snake is in the building.

Or a big rat. Or those meddling kids. Or the mysterious disfigured man driven into the catacombs below the theater years ago, yet who returns to terrorize the patrons and secure the love of Christine, the lovely snack bar attendant.

If the traps show no movement today, she said, officials must consider three possibilities.

Either the reported sighting was a joke, the snake found its way out of the building or it is hiding in a remote location and probably won't come out again.

Pustejovsky said it is unlikely that a boa constrictor or python would have wandered into the theater on its own. She said if one is found in the theater, it probably was brought in by someone or let loose near the building.

You guys are overlooking the obvious answer. In true William Castle fashion, the makers of Anacondas have started a program where they release a live snake into theaters showing the film. As with other cinematic innovations like "Percepto", "Smell-O-Vision", and "Sensurround", this new gimmick (tentatively dubbed "Boa Howdy") is probably doomed to fail, but how we will know unless these cowardly Cinemark suits give it a chance?

Bring it, meat

Crazy Ivan, why won't you die?

What's left of Hurricane Ivan has swelled into a tropical storm that's expected to assault Texas' upper Gulf Coast today.

The storm, with sustained winds of 45 mph today, is most likely to hit around High Island tonight, according to meteorologist Mike Rehbein with the National Weather Service in League City.

For the Houston area, that means some gusty winds but more significantly, lots of rain, starting by the afternoon rush hour, intensifying into the evening and continuing for the next 48 hours or so.

And here I was worrying I'd have to water the lawn this weekend.

Forecasters, of course, can't be sure if weather patterns here will allow Ivan to stall over the Houston area or continue north to the Louisiana coast.

"If it stalls, we're talking about 10 of inches of rain, but if it keeps on going, it will likely produce under 10 inches," said Dan Meador, meteorologist with KHOU-Channel 11.

"And if it produces more than 10 inches, that would be close to a foot of rain, unless it doesn't, in which case it won't. But it might. Stay tuned to Channel 11 for all your alarmist tropical storm needs."

Ivan looks more like a wet nuisance than the juggernaut that hit the Alabama and Florida coasts, but we'll keep our eyes on it. Personally, I'm chilling some beer in anticipation of watching our local reporters stupidly braving the elements to show us all what worthy newspeople they are.

Don't let me down, Wayne.

"Smoke up, Johnny!"

Hold on to your butts:

Councilwoman Shelley Sekula-Gibbs, the only physician on the City Council, is studying smoking ordinances in other cities with an eye toward proposing what would be Houston's first outright ban on smoking in workplaces, bars and restaurants.

"The ban would be on smoking in public places � anyplace that conducts business and where people would gather, not in residences," she said. "Smoking and secondhand smoke are dangerous for all Houstonians, and that's why we are looking to move forward."

"Not in residences." Man, that's a relief. And before you laugh, remember that Houston is the city where two gay men were prosecuted under the state's anti-sodomy laws for something they were doing in their own damn house.

Mayor White has said he isn't yet behind a full ban, while others on the City Council are a bit more eager:

But Councilman Gordon Quan believes that, if proposed, such an ordinance has a strong chance of passage.

"I don't know how the sides are going to line up, but I was at a Quality of Life Committee meeting a while ago, and there was a lot of support," he said Tuesday.

This doesn't surprise me, but only because I doubt there are many 2-pack a day types on the Quality of Life Committee. Similarly, I could claim there's widespread support for bringing an NHL franchise to Houston by polling the attendees at my Bring an NHL Franchise to Houston Club meetings.

Houston is the only major metropolitan area in Texas that has not banned smoking in either eateries or workplaces, although many Houston businesses voluntarily have limited smoking.

The city does ban smoking in elevators, restrooms and certain retail establishments; requires workplaces to accommodate nonsmoking employees; and sets special ventilation standards for places that allow smoking.

El Paso barred cigarettes inside all workplaces, restaurants, and bars in 2002; Dallas followed with a restaurant ban in 2003; San Antonio and Austin banned workplace smoking earlier this year.

I don't have much of an opinion one way or the other about this. Like Chuck, I have a hard time thinking of any restaurants I frequent where cigarette smoke is noticeable, if not already banned outright. My main sympathies in this regard concern the employees of restaruants and bars, who don't have the option of just moving tables or going to another establishment.

I've never understood the concept of an ouright ban on smoking in bars, however. Our own Mucky Duck has demonstrated the workability of featuring non-smoking shows by many musical acts, while others have implemented similar restrictions for the table areas. If enough customers bitch about something, owners tend to listen. And there'll always be places you can go to get your cancer on.

They found an interesting workaround in Southern California (which would unfortunately never work in Houston's climate). Because of the smoking ban, none of the bars there have ashtrays, so the bartender just cut empty beer cans in half and gave them to the regulars. The doors and windows were usually open, so the smoke never accumulated. The only catch was that the bartender would claim ignorance if any cops stopped in.

I don't spend enough time in bars anymore to really claim much of a vested interest in this. Sure, the price for spending an evening throwing a few back with friends might be coming home smelling like Mickey Rourke, but no one can convince me that one night breathing a little secondhand smoke is going to give me insta-tumors. I'm more worried about the quality of the air itself in this town.

Besides, I concur with just about everyone else who's written about this that Houston's City Council has bigger problems than whether or not I want to hurt my lungs while I poison my liver and brain.

Like a hurricane

The Wife brought up a good point last night: how can the World Meteorological Association compile a list of tropical storm names for the year that uses "Bonnie" for "B" and doesn't have "Clyde" for "C?" I can understand not using cutesy monikers like "Huey, Dewey, and Louie," or "Mutt and Jeff," but what's wrong with naming storms after criminals, or notorious political figures? Especially when the names would follow on consecutive letters, as noted above?

Besides, shouldn't the name for a potentially damaging system elicit a little fear? Doesn't Tropical Storm Attila sound more intimidating that Hurricane Stan? Batten down the hatches, Hurricane Hitler's coming!

At the very least, we should take Lewis Black's advice and use names indicative of how most of us feel when a category 4 hurricane is bearing down on us. My current favorite is "Hurricane Holy Fucking Moses."

Good riddance

Jon Matthews, former talk radio host/current sex offender, was sentenced today:

RICHMOND - Former radio talk show host Jon Matthews was formally sentenced to seven years' probation on a charge of indecency with a child for exposing himself to an 11-year-old girl last year in his Sugar Land home.

After sentencing, the father of the victim read a statement in the court of state District Judge Brady Elliott describing Matthews' actions as inexcusable.

Nothing like seeing one of the mouthpieces for the religious right hoisted by his own intolerant petard. He may be lower profile (and that won't change any time soon), but you can add Matthews to the ranks of Swaggart and Limbaugh as a holier-than-thou loudmouth who couldn't walk the walk. Maybe he can still figure out a way to blame Clinton.

And if that wasn't enough, here are Matthews' thoughtful post-sentencing comments:

"Those of you who have listened to my radio show and read my newspaper columns over the years know how strong a supporter I was of our criminal justice system. I can only say how misguided I was. Our criminal justice system is not based on justice; it is a quota system where conviction is the only scorecard."

"You know even the accusation of this sort of thing destroys a person," Matthews said. "They can never recover."

Dude, you pled guilty. I'd expect anyone wrongfully accused of something like this to be on their roof with a bullhorn every night protesting their innocence. The fact that Matthews is trying to spin the conviction like he had no choice but to take the deal - after years of "tough on crime" rhetoric - is pathetic.

Don't want people to whisper behind your back and pull their children to the other side of the street when they see you coming? Shouldn't have dropped trou in front of an 11-year old. Seems pretty simple to me, but I'm a liberal and I hate freedom.

Matthews said he hopes one day to talk about the case.

"The justice system is a scandal. Mimes and murderers are coddled.
Victims are abused. As a vigilante, I can make only one conclusion: all
judges are mental perverts and communists. Thank you."[1]

UPDATE:Chuck sums everything up quite nicely.

[1] Opus the Penguin, on trial for whacking mimes with an olive loaf

Oh my god, they indicted Kenny

The big fish has finally been hooked:

Former Enron Chairman Ken Lay turned himself into the FBI this morning and was whisked away in handcuffs to Houston's federal courthouse to enter a plea to charges he committed fraud and lied to analysts and employees.
...
A spokesman for the Justice Department said the Lay faces 11 criminal counts, including securities, wire and bank fraud and making false and misleading statements.

Lay is expected to speak with reporters later today, but for now media from around the nation must make do with a written statement issued last night.

"I have done nothing wrong, and the indictment is not justified," Lay said in that news release.

Hahahaha. But seriously, CEOs paid as handsomely as Lay should assume a wee bit of accountability for the implosion of their companies. This "out of the loop" crap only works for politicians, dammit.

And if you needed further proof of the kind of privileges wealth will get you, check out the FBI agent escorting Lay to his court appearance:

Helloooooo, nurse. Why do I have the feeling if I ever get hauled into court by the FBI it's going to be a couple of 300-pound dudes with walrus moustaches and itchy taser fingers?

"Sterrrrn!"

Houstonians will soon get a chance to see what all the fuss surrounding Howard Stern is about:

The controversial disc jockey, whose sexually explicit talk show was yanked from several stations for indecency, announced that he soon will be heard in Houston and eight other new markets.

Beginning July 19, Stern's polarizing show will be carried from sunup until 11 a.m. weekdays on the Houston station, which is switching to a "hot talk" format.

"You either really love him or are on the other end of the spectrum," said Bill Van Rysdam, director of programming for KIKK and KILT-AM (610), both owned by Infinity Broadcasting.

The only time I listened to Howard Stern was when I lived in Washington, DC for a few years back in the mid-1990s. I don't recall being "polarized" by him, other than wondering why a man describing a naked woman/women on the radio was so appealing. That feeling has more or less translated to my avoidance of all "morning crew" style programming ever since.

Clear Channel's post-Janet Jackson dumping of Stern from several markets last February seems to have backfired, as Infinity is reintroducing his show to at least four of the markets from which he was dropped.

As usual, money is thicker than public decency:

"As long as Howard Stern brings in more revenue than it costs to deal with the controversy, they will most likely keep him," said Michael Harrison, editor of Talkers magazine, the industry's leading trade journal.

Harrison praised Stern's show as "great radio" and added that Houston adult listeners are in for a treat because Stern is "a brilliant satirist and social commentator" who pokes holes in hypocrisy.

I'm willing to give his show a listen for a while just to see if this "brilliant satirist" ever shows up. I had more than enough "Lesbian Dial-A-Date" and "Homeless Howiewood Squares" ten years ago.

Stern's talk show is like no other program in the Houston market, although it could affect the ratings of the Walton & Johnson morning show on KLOL-FM (101.1), which also attracts a large adult male following.

I'm with Chuck on this one, anything that drives those unfunny scumbags off Houston's airwaves will earn a listen from me. For a couple days, at least.

Don't Bogart that roach

Via Chuck, I see a Houston artifact of sorts could scuttle forth once more:

The giant neon cockroach glowed for 42 years and was a beacon for Southwest Freeway drivers. He glows no more.

Bubba, the 8-foot-tall, 16-foot-wide Holder's Pest Control roach, was taken down in April, but the sign could make a comeback.
...
In 1998, Holder's moved to a southwest Houston shopping center that would not allow the display of a mammoth insect, so Bubba stayed behind. He was eventually taken down, because of an ordinance that forbids a commercial sign when the company has left the premises. Bubba now spends his days in a Holder's warehouse.
...
But Holder's wants Bubba back in the spotlight, said Jen Boedecker, marketing coordinator at Copesan Services, a national alliance of pest control companies that includes Holder's.

A number of businesses, mostly restaurants, have tried to buy Bubba, but Copesan is interested only in leasing the sign as a form of advertising.

Here's Bubba (not sure of the guy's name in the foreground):

Houston has a pretty nice skyline, but outside that there's little of note to check out when navigating our extensive freeways. It'll be good to get one of our landmarks back, especially one so...representative of our city.

Or they could always put up a mosquito instead.

Stormy weather

I really shouldn't bitch, what with the Western U.S. suffering its worst drought since they started keeping records of such things, but man is it raining a lot around here. Today's the third straight day of storms, which are now projected to continue into the weekend.

Not like the city is always covered with a thin veneer of mildew in the first place. What a glorious time early summer in Houston is.

We're already 15" ahead of our usual annual total (average is around 46"), and this is shaping up to be the, uh, 6th wettest June since 1882. We've got 12.19 inches this month so far (June of 2001, The Year of Allison, saw over 19 inches).

I generally have to water the lawn about three or four times a year, usually in July, when the weather patterns settle into the normal Houston patterns of hot, really hot, and "Jesus Christ is it hot." If this keeps up, the trusty sprinkler might continue its lonely exile in the garage, right next to that candleabra I was going to clean up in 2002, and my rapidly decaying heavy bag.

"I always wondered about Jesse's collection of little shoes."

Former KSEV talk show host entered a plea agreement with Fort Bend County prosecutors today on a charge of indecency with a child:

RICHMOND -- Former radio talk show host Jon Matthews pleaded guilty today to a charge of indecency with a child in a plea agreement with prosecutors.

Matthews, 59, who resigned from his position at KSEV-AM 700 last year, was to go to trial June 28 but decided to accept the agreement after rejecting it last week, said Fort Bend County District Attorney John Healey.
...
According to court documents, Matthews is to be placed on deferred adjudication for seven years.
...
He was indicted Nov. 11 on a charge alleging that he had exposed himself to an 11-year-old girl at his home on Oct. 9. He was arrested two days later and released on $10,000 bail.

The conservative talk show host resigned from his position at KSEV-AM 700, where he had a program on weekday mornings, and also stopped writing a column for the weekly Fort Bend Star.

Matthews was beyond conservative. His show featured the same self-indulgent windbaggery and reactionary bombast which makes 99% of AM talk radio such a joke. I didn't comment on the early stages of the case, because I figured the guy would eventually get his day in court and everything would get sorted out. He did, and it has. We can now comfortably hold Matthews up as another Hicks-ian example of those who rant and rave about "family values" and the danger posed to our country by "liberals" as often being the ones with the most to hide.

Deferred adjudication sure beats the 2 to 10 in prison he was looking at (where I'm told child predators are a big hit). As for the chances of Jon Matthews - Sex Offender getting another radio job, I wouldn't hold my breath.

The most blusterful time of the year

I must be slacking. Here we are, two whole days into hurricane season, and I have yet to gratuitously link to my August, 2003 entry on hurricane pornography.

So here it is.

It's the humidity

This incident isn't as strange as it sounds:

HOUSTON -- It was quite a sight for the lunchtime crowd along one of Houston's busiest streets -- a man decided to carry his clothes instead of wearing them as he walked along Westheimer, officials told News2Houston.

By the time police arrested him 10 blocks later, the man, identified as Brandon Weeks, had dropped his clothes and was just walking nude, according to witnesses.

It took four police officers and three bystanders to subdue Weeks on Westheimer near Chimney Rock.

"The biggest thing was that he was slippery. There's no pants or nothing to hang onto," said Andrew Green, a witness.

Oh, I'm sure they could've found something to hang onto.

The high in Houston yesterday was 96 degrees. Barring storms, we can count on highs above 90 until September in this part of the country. Is it fair to punish a guy for doing the most logical thing imaginable in the face of such extreme heat?

"I'm a retired police officer. I thought I'd help," said Stacey Crisp. "He said his name was Brandon and he was Jesus. That's what he told me."

Remember that the next time you ask yourself, "What would Jesus do?" Because it's pretty obvious to me that in 96 degree heat, he'd walk around butt naked.

And you call yourself Christians.

"This old nightclub / stole my youth"

The Meridian opened to little fanfare here in Houston last month, but two things about the place stand out to me. First, it has a capacity of 1,000 people, which hopefully means less time spent by yours truly rubbing up against other sweaty old bastards. Second, the building was formerly used to store frozen fish, meaning the A/C may actually work. Having attended more than my share of July and August shows in Houston, I can't tell you what a relief that is to hear. If I'd ended up at many more clubs with no air conditioning (the old upstairs of Fitzgerald's) or where management chose not to turn it on (the Continental Club), I'd be left showing up in a jock and pasties, and nobody wants that.

Even at $18 a pop, I'll probably end up seeing the Old 97s. Hearing "Curtain Calls" or "Barrier Reef" live can make up for "Murder or a Heart Attack" or any of Rhett Miller's solo crap. And if the downloads from their new album (Drag It Up - in stores July 27) available on their web site are any indication, it might not be a bad show. What's more interesting to me, however, is the fact that the 97s recently signed with New West Records. You know who else is on New West? Slobberbone, baby. Now, there's no opening act listed for the Old 97s gig yet, and I imagine the 'bone is raring to go after an eight month hiatus. That would be a wang dang doodle dandy of a show.

And so will these, I predict:

June 20 - Lars Frederiksen and the Bastards -- Lars and Tim from Rancid, and others
June 23 - DKT/MC5 -- Wayne Kramer, Dennis Thompson, and Michael Davis of the original MC5 with guests Marshall Crenshaw, Mark Arm (Mudhoney), and...uh, Evan Dando (Lemonheads)
July 20 - They Might be Giants
July 23 - Midget Wrestling Tour

That's a cornucopia of delights, that is.

Cars on 45

Interstate 45, that is. And actually, the parade runs near the interstate, not on it. The joke wouldn't be nearly as funny the other way around, though.

Anyway, yesterday was Houston's annual Art Car Parade. Some 275 automobiles - ranging from the ideological to the freaky - cruised into downtown. I think it's one of the best parades anywhere, and this year's event didn't disappoint.

Dig, if you will, the pictures in the extended entry. I didn't get my hands on an official ballot, so I don't know many of the entries' names. Most are pretty self-explanatory (you can click on the thumbnail for larger size):

Mmmm...beer:

The famed two-way car. The driver didn't like it when I commented that it wasted twice as much gas a regular vehicle:

Beats me:

A favorite of this year's parade, the 112-foot "Draka:"

Prayer pimples for hairy fishnuts?

The fact that 12-year old kids were largely responsible for this gory production doesn't fill me with hope for the future. Nice corpse on the hood, though:

Lair?

Nice globes:

Hard as it is to believe, not everyone in Houston is a fan of Bush:

A crowd shot, looking east towards downtown:

This close to the bayou, maybe the rat-cycle wasn't such a good idea:

But it beats the Trek-cycle:

One of my faves, this homage to Houston road construction:

Houston is full of mating bugs in the springtime:

The Game Car comes in handy when the parade stalls, as happened quite a bit this year:

Opponents of the Port of Houston's proposed Bayport project:

Never laugh when a hearse goes by:

This one reminded me of a "Treehouse of Horror" episode, for some reason:

Obviously cashing in on the Troy advertising blitz:

Sheb Wooley would've been proud:

Well, Volkswagens are German, I guess:

If Dr. Seuss had a car:

UPDATE: Edited to fix some bizarre typos caused when the entry published before I realized it had.

Dumb and demagogue

Houston-based anti-abortion group Coalition for Life, whics - as we all know - is only interested in "protecting the public" and not in intimidation tactics of any kind, is offering a report of donors to Planned Parenthood of Houston and Southeast Texas to anyone who signs their online petition.

Of course, the names of all donors are already available to anyone who reads Planned Parenthood's annual report. And the Chronicle story neglects to mention that all businesses and foundations on the list were told (by anti-choice gadfly David Bereit) they could avoid having their names published if they denounced their support of Planned Parenthood. To my knowledge, none did.

Keep it up, guys. Ultimatums and harassment have a strange habit of backfiring. And donations always seem to go up after the pro-lifers pull stunts like this, for some reason.

Not so fan-tastic anymore

As if the NBA needed another black eye, publicity-wise.

Most Houston folks have already heard the news about former Rocket and current NBA announcer Calvin Murphy getting hit with sexual assault charges. Specifically, three counts of aggravated sexual assault of a child, and three counts of indecency. If that wasn't bad enough, the charges are being leveled by his own daughters.

Murphy, as you'd expect, denies everything:

"I am completely innocent of all charges," he said.

Whew. Glad he cleared that up. Now the city will be spared the ordeal of a lengthy...oh, wait. There's more:

Murphy has worked with children his entire life. He says to be accused by his own is the worst part of what he's facing. He has 14 children by nine women - one he married - but says that should not cloud anyone's judgment. He says he's been a good father to all.

Right. One has to give Murphy the benefit of the doubt until the trial is conducted, but come on. How in the name of Shawn Kemp can you be a good father to 14 kids, unless you and their nine mothers all live together in some compound out in southern Utah?

UPDATE: I forgot to add that it was none other than longtime APCB fan Wayne Dolcefino who broke the story on our local ABC affiliate. Apparently he has some time to kill now that he's made the city safe for exotic dancers.

"Maybe it's the beer talking, Marge...but you've got a butt that won't quit."

Ginger points us to this Houston Chronicle story about a proposed referendum in Conroe, TX to allow alcohol sales in the previously dry southern half of town:

The Conroe election will involve citywide voting on whether to allow unrestricted alcohol sales in the city's now-dry south half, as have been permitted in north Conroe for decades.

An affirmative vote would authorize the sale of beer, wine, liquor and mixed drinks in neighborhoods generally south of Texas 105.

City officials and backers of the proposal say liquor sales downtown are needed to foster development of new hotels, restaurants and entertainment spots.

Parts of Houston are dry, as are sections of Dallas. That one need only travel a few hundred feet in either city to find a liquor store or bar doesn't seem to bother those who believe "the children" will be safe as long as the local Kroger doesn't have Sam Smith's Taddy Porter on the beer aisle.

This is Conroe, however, the town where the �ber-reactionary Republican Leadership Council successfully lobbied to have a replica of Michelangelo's David covered with a fig leaf, and Italian Renaissance prints deemed "obscene" removed from an area restaurant:

Although Michelangelo's anatomically correct classical sculpture of "David" has been on display for almost 500 years in Florence, Italy, it took only a short time for public pressure to force Portofino's management to clothe a replica of the masterpiece -- using a plaster grape leaf.

Similarly, complaints that some classic illustrations on the interior of Buca di Beppo restaurant were pornographic has prompted management there to remove the offending art.

One wonders how many concerned Conroe residents who agree with the shrouding of David's trouser snake will be shepherding their kids to see Mel Gibson's latest exercise in ultra-violence.

The crusade by the Whitts and others has resulted in two pictures being removed from inside the restaurant. One was a picture of a classic Italian statue of naked wrestlers, and another was a well-known picture of a young boy urinating on a wall, which was shown in the men's restroom.

Apparently the Whitts don't have a problem with the Hooters restaurant on I-45 in Conroe, or the kind of, uh, "artwork" present in their men's room.

I'm not sure how the "dry" thing works outside of Texas, though I understand other states below the Mason-Dixon Line have similar ordinances. It amuses me greatly to know that, while I may have a difficult time purchasing a six-pack in Lufkin, a brief jaunt to Louisiana allows me to buy Jack Daniels in a 7-11. Priorities.

Dry neighborhoods are an annoyance: drive a few extra blocks to an alcohol-supplied store or BYOB to a restaurant. Dry counties are a different matter. Restaurants still allow drinking, provided you purchase a "membership" for that particular establishment, or - in north Texas, for example - you can buy a card that allows you to drink in participating establishments for a year.

The ability to buy beer at a grocery store and consume it in your home would seem to be safer for your kids than having to drag ass to the Bennigan's three exits down, load up, and drive home. Of course, I'm one of those fringe characters who thinks a replica of David situated on top of a for-crying-out-loud strip center Oshman's should swing free like nature (and Michelangelo) intended, so what do I know?

Next round's on me.

"Wait a minute, this sounds like rock and/or roll."

Jesus...I mean, "Golly." Today's Houston Chronicle tells us we'll all soon be safe from godless behavior in county venues:

Singer Janet Jackson set off a nationwide clamor when she briefly flashed a glimpse of one breast during an already racy Super Bowl halftime show at Reliant Stadium.

Now, Harris County Commissioner Steve Radack wants to make sure there's no more such misbehavior in a county-owned building.

Radack said Tuesday that he wants a "morality clause" added to the contracts of all entertainers who perform in such venues, including Reliant Stadium, Reliant Center and the Astrodome.

Radack is acting in the fine spirit of knee-jerkery following the Super Bowl - even thought Reliant Park's management already prohibits performers from using the place for "unlawful or immoral purposes." Naked breasts must make the Baby Jesus cry.

"Basically, I want to make it clear that in county venues, we expect wholesome entertainment, and basically set some parameters," [Radack] said.

He suggested developing clear regulations, including restrictions on nudity, dress, sexually suggestive dance movements and even lyrics.

What qualify as suggestive dance moves, again? Does playing a song by a convicted child pornographer at a football game fall within these "clear regulations?"

Radack and company appear to have a little breathing room, however, since the next gig lined up at Reliant doesn't look like it'll cause too many problems.

Or will it?

The Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo has its own safeguards in place for performers, who were signed in October, well before Jackson took the field at the Super Bowl.

Performers' contracts include an acknowledgment that the event, which begins March 2, is family-oriented and that they must perform "in a manner that is not offensive to any social or ethnic groups and that is suitable for a family audience."

Let's take a look at some the Rodeo's upcoming "family friendly" acts:

March 4 - Wynonna -- Does singing drunk violate the clause?
March 5 - Bow Wow and the You Got Served Tour -- All dancers will reportedly be required to have their pasties applied with KraZy Glue.
March 10 - Vince Gill and Amy Grant -- Uh, pass.
March 16 - Kelly Clarkson, and Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson -- Is there anything about Jessica Simpson that isn't offensive?
March 17 - Kenny Chesney - The biggest danger to the family audience in Chesney's case is how many people will get splattered with his brains when a fan of decent music finally snaps and sneaks a Barrett .50 cal into the arena.
March 18 - Beyonc� - I can't see anyone going too far out on a limb to ask Ms. Knowles to tone down the bootyliciousness, though the gravity well generated by her ample posterior might cause a separate hazard - undermining the structural integrity of the venue itself. That's probably more of a zoning issue, though.
March 21 - Willie Nelson - Possibility of profanity or leftist political diatribes, but there should be enough secondhand bong smoke that most in the audience won't notice.

My hilarious jokes aside, a morality clause is a dumb idea for three reasons.

1. The arenas listed don't land the really offensive performers. Acts like 50 Cent and Marilyn Manson play the Verizon Ampitheater or Toyota Center anyway. The truth is, not many acts capable of selling out a stadium are going to be very edgy.
2. Believe it or not, some people want their entertainment, like pro wrestling (held at the Astrodome), to be adult-oriented. Think the guys lined up for WCW Nitro want the wrestlers to tone down the language and the ladies to cover up? Guess again.
3. All bets are off when you televise something. Hardly anybody in Reliant Stadium caught a glimpse of the Jiffy Boob, and had the thing not aired on TV for the next 743 straight hours, I wouldn't be wasting everyone's time writing about this.

Even the incident that instigated Radack's proposal was a fluke; a grandstanding publicity stunt by one singer struggling for notice in a world occupied by women 15 years her junior, and another desperate to shake his vanilla boy-band baggage. I've been to dozens of stadium rock shows, most right here in Houston, and the most suggestive thing I've ever seen on stage was Tommy Lee mooning the audience. The only bared breasts I've ever run across were courtesy of audience members, and I doubt even Steve Radack can write up regulations for that.

"Can I watch football with you again next Sunday?"
"Sure. You'll find it gets rid of the unpleasant aftertaste of church."

I swear to Jebus this is my last Super Bowl-related post...the first draft of which was written in Rudyard's about 4:30 yesterday afternoon.

So there are reportedly a large number of celebrities here in Houston for the Big Game (take the Patriots + the points). I've heard of at least three P. Diddy sightings, Pamela Anderson was spotted near the Galleria, and pornstars Mary Carey and Brittany Andrews will be appearing at (heh) the Fu-Kim Ballroom. In addition, Cedric the Entertainer's in town, Jaime Pressly is hosting the Playboy party, Snoop Dogg will be attending the Hip Hop Summit, and you apparently can't swing a throat-slashed ex-wife without hitting an NFL player. A formidable contingent of Houstonians, it is being reported, are mobilizing to encounter as many celebs as possible.

My stated goal, by contrast, for this weekend has been to avoid the freeways, the malls, and (especially) Downtown until they all pull up stakes and head back to whatever Hummer dealership they live next to.

I could chalk my apathy up to any number of things: unwillingness to deal with crowds, being old and cheap, and just plain not caring. None of the A-listers floating around this weekend are anybody I've ever had any desire to meet (though if we were to amend the traditional definition of "meet," I could probably make an exception for Brittany Andrews). Even if anyone of interest to me were in town, I doubt I'd go to much trouble to stalk them. In spite of the impression given by my hilarious Conversations with Famous People, my celebrity encounters have by and large stemmed from chance meetings.

Having said that, there are a few of the so-called "beautiful people" I wouldn't mind meeting/having a beer with. The ones that immediately leap to mind are as follows (NOTE: I don't include political figures or people of actual import in the designation "celebrity," so don't get all cheesed that I didn't put Vaclav Havel or Nelson Mandela on the list):

Mr. T. - Right, like you wouldn't want a pic with T.
Paul Westerberg - He's really one of the last of my musical idols who's still alive. Warren Zevon, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Freddie Mercury, and Joe Strummer have all gone to the great gig in the sky, and I've corresponded briefly with the one other guy who probably qualifies.
Grub Smith (from Comedy Central's Travel Sick) - If only to buy the guy a beer or three and ask how he ate that elephant seal penis.
Bob Odenkirk - I dearly loved Mr. Show, and thought Melvin Goes to Dinner was a nice bit of work.
Tanya Donnelly - I listened to Belly's Star more times during my bleak post-college days than I should probably admit.
Kurt Russell - Ironically, I heard tonight that he's in town. Whatever, he doesn't need another dickhead fan telling him how much they loved The Thing, Escape From New York, and Big Trouble in Little China. And I don't want to get stuck talking to Goldie.
Lewis Black - Put on one of the best stand-up sets I've ever seen, and less than two months after 9-11. Just wanted to thank him.

That's about it. I'd point out that those listed are there mostly because I respect their work. The list of celebrities I'd like to meet simply for gravy train potential is much different.

I wonder if any of them could hook me up with Dana Delany?

Let (X) entertain you

Anyone care to hazard a guess as to the identity of this year's mystery Super Bowl entertainer?

HOUSTON (AP) -- Janet Jackson, Sean "P. Diddy" Combs, Kid Rock and Nelly apparently weren't enough for CBS' 12 1/2-minute Super Bowl halftime show.

Another act is poised join the MTV-produced extravaganza. Who that is will remain a mystery until the program, producers said Thursday.

My extremities are positively sweating in anticipation. Who could it possibly be? Britney? Doubtful, since she was there a few years ago. Same for Aerosmith, who everyone already knows were in town the other day doing a NASA promo ("Dream On," perhaps?). Chuck already spilled the beans about his collaboration with Chingy, so that's probably not it (and he's not exactly on the same superstar plateau as the aforementioned performers...Chingy, that is, not Chuck).

Could it be someone from the other side of the musical genre aisle, like a country artist? An animal act? Whats a fan of lip-synched, overproduced, bathroom break extravaganas to do?

Not to worry. APCB oddsmakers have been hard at work on the problem and have come up with the following possible scenarios. Most past performers (Tony Bennett, Diana Ross, James Brown, Christina Aguilera, *NSYNC, Shania Twain, etc.) have been excluded from consideration, so keep that in mind. Odds are provided for entertainment purposes only:

Billy Ray Cyrus - Has-been mulletheads used to be a staple of halftime entertainment (SB XXVIII's halftime theme was "Rockin' Country Sunday," after all), not this year. ODDS: 250 to 1
Kill the 1972 Miami Dolphins - I think even the NFL is getting tired of these smarmy fucks, so let this Sunday's halftime show feature the whole bunch getting mowed down by a water-cooled .30 cal. This is one of the few halftime events for which I might be tempted to stay out of the bathroom. For that reason, it'll never happen. ODDS: 500 to 1
Michael Jackson - They wouldn't be that crazy, would they? And wouldn't this violate his bond agreement? He performed in SB XXVII, anyway. ODDS: 750 to 1
New Kids on the Block - Can you say blockbuster comeback? And before anyone scoffs, remember it was a mere 10 years ago that Kris Kross played the pregame festivities. ODDS: 250 to 1
The Dixie Chicks - Ha ha. No. ODDS 1,000,000 to 1
Blue Man Group - Weird painted men playing homemade instruments to a crowd of 70,000 drunken goons. I can hear the crickets now. ODDS 150 to 1
The Doors - Meaning the new lineup, with Ian Astbury. Some may feel that these guys aren't exactly a football band. To those people, I would like to say, "Blues Brothers 2000" (Super Bowl XXXI). ODDS: 100 to 1
Rob Lowe and Snow White - Next to the '72 Dolphins Massacre, this is the one I most want to see. Lowe's probably a little antsy since The Lyon's Den got cancelled, anyway. ODDS 200 to 1
Eminem - Do Kid Rock and Marshall Mathers hate each other? How about P. Diddy and Marshall? I know this is supposed to be family entertainment, but most of the f-bombs can probably be cut from the playback. ODDS: 75 to 1
Toby Keith - This is more like it. Good old fashioned jingoism goes great with beer and football. Still, it might be a little jarring to switch cameras from Keith's flop-sweating ass to Ms. Jackson's six-pack. ODDS: 25 to 1
A Super Bowl Tribute to Gordon Lightfoot - Beyonce singing "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" would bring down the house. ODDS 350 to 1
John Mayer - Might be able to accomplish what SB XXVI's "Winter Magic" (featuring Brian Boitano and Dorothy Hamill) couldn't: put an entire Super Bowl audience to sleep. ODDS 50 to 1
Avril Lavigne - Say it ain't so, but she's been suspiciously out of the public eye in recent months. As Hans Christian Andersen once said, "I've got a bad feeling about this." ODDS 25 to 1
Outkast - These guys are a stone groove, man. Bring in that girl with the pigtails from the "Hey Ya" video and I might have to delay my halftime bathroom trek once again. ODDS 5 to 1
J-Lo - I think we have a winner. Check the facts: she recently broke up with B-Affle, and was spotted earlier this month with P-Diddy in Miami. Her strain of bland, inoffensive dance pop, liberally sprinkled with ass shaking, is just the thing a Super Bowl audience stoked by endless promos featuring the Coors Light twins will be craving. ODDS: 3 to 2

As always, any correct predictions will be trumpeted here on Monday. Incorrect ones will be ignored with extreme prejudice.

Astros granted Clemens-y

As a Houston blogger, it's probably codified somewhere that I should address the signing of Roger Clemens by the Houston Astros:

The six-time Cy Young Award winner had said for more than a year that he planned to quit after pitching last season for the New York Yankees.

But he was persuaded to join the Astros, his hometown team, after close friend and former Yankees teammate Andy Pettitte signed with Houston last month.

Nolan Ryan's strikeout record (5,714) is still safe, but it looks like Clemens - third with 4,099 - will take the #2 spot from Steve Carlton (4,136) this season.

Now then, as a St. Louis Cardinals fan, I can't help but feel a lingering sense of black dread over our chances in the NL Central this season. Houston's signed Pettitte and Clemens, the Cubs still have Wood, Zambrano, and Prior (and are reportedly chasing Greg Maddux), while the Cards signed...Mike Lincoln and Julian Tavarez? And Marlon Anderson? So much for Bo Hart at 2B.

One last bit, from the Chronicle's story on the deal:

Clemens will also be a major box office hit, which is why McLane doesn't mind raising the payroll despite losing $15 million last year.

Because I can't put it any better, I'll quote Chuck's translation of this excerpt:

Clemens will also be a major box office hit, which is why McLane doesn't mind raising the payroll despite claiming to lose $15 million last year, a claim he has made repeatedly and we've printed uncritically despite the fact that he's never opened his books or explained why he's such a bad businessman for not being able to turn a profit in that nice shiny new ballpark the taxpayers gave him for free. But hey, what do you expect?

Outstanding.

UPDATE: Maybe I was preoccupied at the time, but were all the New York fans I hear screaming for Clemens' head equally up in arms when the Astros signed Pettitte? I mean, Clemens essentially quit and came back, so fine, call him a liar. But Pettitte was the Yankees' best playoff pitcher, and Houston lowballed him away from New York.

Were I a Yankee fan, I'd be more irate about the Pettitte signing, is all I'm saying.

And I'll be watching when he pitches, if only to see how much, if at all, he backs off his headhunting. And to see what kind of retaliation he suffers when he steps into the box.

Fire in the hole

Just saw that Cecil's, everyone's favorite Montrose-area bar for slackers and moody college students, went up in flames early this morning:

Firefighters say Cecil's on West Grey was in flames when they arrived just after 1am. The bar was open at the time of the blaze. Witnesses say the fire started in or around the closet where the heater was.

That hits a little close to home. Cecil's was a favored hangout until the demographic started skewing towards the early 20-something crowd (they play that infernal "rock and roll" music so damnably loud, you know) and we discovered the charms of Rudyard's. I'm just glad they appeared to avoid a Great White-type tragedy.

Although I suspect the 24-hour Greek place across the street is going to lose a lot of business.

Fountains of Wayne

Sounds like someone was doing a little ego surfing and came across my November 12 entry about hard-hitting investigative journalist Wayne Dolcefino's expos� on fire inspectors in Houston strip clubs.

It also appears that certain someone wasn't too happy with what they read:

Hey dumbass....the reason I am not listed in HCAD is because I dont live in Harris County...but of course a crack know it all like you probably already figured that out. As far as my alleged bungling of the Kid Care story...the last time I checked the founders of the charity were being sued by the state for alleged mismanagment and fraud. Im sorry you dont see the relevance in having fire inspectors making schools a bigger priority than topless bars. I dont go to the places ..so I havent seen you there. - Wayne Dolcefino

Wait...what? You don't go to schools? What does that have to do with anything?

"Wayne," if indeed it is he, is referring to intrepid commenter Denny's remark that Dolcefino isn't listed on the Harris County Appraisal District's web site, and my fellow "crack know it all" already noted that this meant he probably didn't live in Houston.

I'll give him Kid Care, though I never said they weren't at fault, merely that he could've handled the story differently.

That entry was never really about whether fire inspectors should be spending more time at strip joints than schools (maybe all that pole dancing loosens the wiring), but rather the lengths to which our local TV news shows will go to lure viewers. In the final equation, I doubt ABC 13 gives a fig about this supposed outrage, they just wanted the opportunity to show some asses shaking.

Hell, I even expressed a sort of admiration for a man who seems hell bent on turning into J.R. from "Dallas," with everyone who crosses his path muttering, "I'll get Wayne Dolcefino if it's the last thing I do." Still, the dig he threw at my habit of frequenting topless establishments was something only a seasoned journalist could possibly have pulled off. Well played, Wayne.

Except for the Disney IP address, I really have no reason to believe this guy is actually who he says he is. If it is him, no hard feelings. As long as he dedicates his next Jacques Cousteau impersonation during a tropical storm to me, or thinks of APCB the next time he's escorted out of an office and hysterically bellows "Dont push me!" at the elderly man behind him, we'll call it even.

I wonder if this counts as a Conversation with Famous People?

No go for Nova

Houston's Nova Meyerland 8 theater, operating since 1965, is closing tomorrow:

The little theater tucked away at the back of Meyerland Plaza off the West Loop has become the latest casualty of the industry's move toward megaplexes and stadium seating. The mall's management plans to demolish the building and replace it with 55,000 square feet of new shops. Moviegoers who have enjoyed the theater since it opened in 1965 will have to go elsewhere.

The loss may be felt particularly hard by elderly residents such as [local resident Virginia] Palmer who live in the Meyerland and Bellaire areas. They say they will lose the sense of security they felt going to a place where theater manager Vincent Chow knows regulars by sight and where concession stand workers remember who likes their drinks with no ice and who doesn't want salt on their popcorn.

What, parking in another zip code and dealing with surly, sub-literate teens mumbling at you from the concession stand of the local 30-screen Googleplex aren't good enough for you? This is the big city, baby.

What's more of a drag is that the Meyerland facility was actually a fairly successful theater, at least by Nova's standards:

[Theater manager Vincent] Chow said the theater is the second most successful in the Nova chain, which has operated it for 14 months and understood coming in that the theater's days were numbered. Still, he said 250,000 people saw movies there between Thanksgiving 2002 and Thanksgiving 2003, and the cinema earned $350,000 in profit.

Not successful enough for the recently resurgent Meyerland area, however...

But Meyerland Plaza manager Brenda Bode noted that the theater owners pay less than market value in rent to the shopping center's owner and operator, Atlanta-based Ronus Properties.

"We have tried in good faith to make the cinema happen, but at the end of the day the numbers aren't there. If they were paying a market rate they would not be able to be there," said Bode, who has had her fair share of calls from theater supporters waxing nostalgic.

"It will be sort of a grieving period, but I hope people can adjust. We're not trying to let the community or shopping center die. We understand that people are interested in the shopping center and what we're doing here. We are their back-door neighbor."

When Meyerland's market value was in the toilet a decade or so ago thanks to urban decay and lack of property rentals, nobody paid much attention to the dingy little 8-screen theater back in the corner. Now that they've landed Border's and Old Navy, it's time to clean a little house.

I'll be the first to admit that I like seeing movies in a stadium theater, with full-on DTS or THX stereo sound so loud I can't hear my own thoughts, much less the running commentary of the mouth-breathing homunculus in the seat behind me. I also enjoy having 17 showtimes to choose from in a day, as well as a handy ATM for my impulse purchase of a 3-pound bag of Runts.

That said, the Nova was one of the last theaters in town where you could still regularly park within 30 feet of the entrance. For free. The staff - unlike that of any of the local AMC, Tinseltown, or Edwards monstrosities - actually acted like patrons were more than a necessary annoyance. If you ordered a drink ($1 fountain drinks and $1 regular popcorn, all day every day), you got a cup and were free to fill it with whatever mix of beverage and ice you chose. The seats, while not the Buick bucket variety common nowadays, were comfortable, and each theater had enough of a grade to the floor that your view wouldn't be obstructed unless you got stuck behind Yao Ming.

Of course, the Nova was also the only theater I ever patronized that forgot Daylight Savings Time, meaning we effectively got the first third of "From Hell" fast-forwarded for us.

Any structure in this city over ten years old might as well be the Parthenon, so it's a shame the 38-year old theater is biting the dust. And the Nova theater chain as a whole doesn't seem to be looking to healthy either, with theaters in such high traffic areas as Boaz, Alabama and Blountville, Tennessee.

As for the area's other local small theaters, the Angelika and the Landmark Greenway will probably fare just fine. They're really the only places in town to see first-run foreign and independent films, and thankfully the fourth largest city in the country is able to support a whopping six screens of such fare (nine if you count the Landmark River Oaks, which benefits from being situated next to Houston's famous twin Starbucks).

And personally, being a big shot film correspondent, I now have to wonder where they're going to hold WorldFest this year. What other theater could possibly compete with the majesty of Patrick Swayze's gala "One Last Dance" premiere?

UPDATE: Chuck, as usual, beat me to the punch with a little personal history of his own. Kudos for also using the work "Googleplex."

Taking on the Goliath of the 22nd District

Chuck at Off the Kuff has an interesting interview with attorney Richard Morrison, who is mounting a campaign against Tom DeLay for the 22nd Congressional District. It's a good read, and kudos to Chuck for running it.

DeLay's bizarre faith in perpetual road contruction as a cure to his constituents' traffic woes has always baffled me, and Morrison comments on this and DeLay's apparent lack of concern for the people he represents in general. I don't know if Morrison has a snowball's chance against a guy who can get campaign money from a stone the way DeLay can, but I wish him luck.

Random election BS

I'm not really focused enough right now to put together a coherent single entry on any of these topics related to yesterday's runoff election, so here's a bunch of crap:

Bill White kicks hell out of Orlando Sanchez

Money talks, as my neighbor's dog used to say, and White had more than enough to bring to bear in Houston's mayoral runoff. However, let's not lose sight of the fact that Sanchez ran a completely inept campaign, acted like he couldn't be bothered to run, and assembled a diverse coalition of rich white people to help him out. Like our new mayor or not, if you watched the news tonight and saw both of them addressing their supporters, Sanchez's assembly looked like a Toby Keith concert, while White obviously made the effort to reach out to different groups. That, and the aforementioned Croesus-load of money, won him the Mayor's office.

"Bob Dole doesn't like this."

I knew Terry McConn was screwed in his race against M.J. Khan for the District F Council position when he referred to himself in the third person on the news Friday. Only three people can get away with that: Rickey Henderson, Mr. T, and ViagraMan himself.

What are words for? When no one listens anymore?

When an established far right stooge like Bert Keller can make comments about mounting a "grass roots" effort in his unsuccessful City Council campaign against challenger Ron Green, the phrase has lost all meaning.

That joke isn't funny anymore

The polling officials at my voting location either had no sense of humor or were pissed off at having to show up to work a runoff election, because I know my urging everyone in the place to "Vote Quimby" was hilarious.

You suck

This sentiment is only intended for the teeming masses of Houstonians who didn't bother to vote today. We're a city that has some 1.5 million citizens of voting age, yet fewer than 250,000 of them bothered to cast a ballot. Today wasn't about deciding whether Reuben or Clay will perform at next year's Grey Cup, people; it was to determine who will be in charge of your city. I don't care what George Carlin says, if you can't be bothered to vote, you're a shmuck.

Get me to the multi-purpose arena on time!

The Compaq Center, formerly known as the Summit, is ceasing operation as a sports/special event arena this year. This Saturday, ZZ Top will help close the place down by playing the final (rock) concert in the arena:

Saturday's last ZZ Top show at the now-named Compaq Center will be followed by Disney on Ice Nov. 26-30. The building then will become home to Lakewood Church and be renamed Lakewood International Center.

I admit to being a bit stupefied when I heard Lakewood, a Houston-based Charismatic Church, was moving into the Compaq Center (under a 60-year lease, no less). I didn't realize at the time that they regularly fill up their current 7,800 seat facility for each service, or that an estimated 30,000 parishoners attend each week. Sermons are also broadcast across America and to some 100 countries worldwide.

Which leads to a logistical question: what kind of ceremony has to be performed to adequately consecrate the site of the new Lakewood International Center? Leaving aside the question of whether or not any violent crimes have been committed there (those Aeros-Grizzlies games would get pretty bloody, at least), does one just move into a venue that has hosted the likes of Black Sabbath, Testament, and Megadeth without at least sprinkling some holy water around?

Lakewood's an interesting organization. Their congregation is celebrated for its diversity and original pastor John Osteen was actually ousted from the Southern Baptists for not being fire and brimstone enough, which is all fine and good. Still, the wording on the church's web page regarding their plans for the future are a little...disquieting:

It has always been Lakewood's destiny to be on the front lines, and our greatest opportunity stands before us.

Never in our history have we had a greater opportunity to make an impact on the nations of the earth� Will you be part of history?

Then there's this:

The greatest challenge in the history of Lakewood is before us. We can stay where we are, or we can move ahead into a "promised land" where our vision for ministry can sweep this world.

Maybe I'm reading all this too close to the anniversary of the Jonestown massacre, but it sure sounds to me like Lakewood is about to implement "Phase II" of Operation Global Fellowship...Or Else.

I, for one, welcome our Protestant overlords.

Toot toot, beep beep

So here's the traffic map for this evening's commute:

Screw this. I'm going to Big John's for a beer. Or three.

Must be sweeps

Local TV newsbag Wayne Dolcefino is promising an uncompromising and hard-hitting "newseriffic" look at Houston area fire inspectors that spend an inordinate amount of time in local strip clubs. My extremities are already sweating in anticipation of lurid hidden camera footage and strategically placed pixelated boxes that so deliciously tease. These are the times that local news programs live for.

So far Dolcefino has, by my informal and unscientific count, conducted unflattering investigative reports on the local police department, Houston city government, and the HISD teachers' union (and probably the DAR and the Girl Scouts). Now it's the fire department's turn - we learned tonight that local inspectors had visited area "adult entertainment establishments" over 267 times last year, and a certain local elementary school not at all.

Sadly, what will be lost in the inevitable pleas that we "think of the children" is Dolcefino's obvious psychological handicap: the man has a death wish.

Investigative reporters ruffle feathers all the time, but Big Wayne doesn't appear ready to stop until he's pissed off everyone in the KTRK viewing area. I'm not sure if the man lives in Houston proper, but if he does, he's managed to anger the local constabulary (with last month's story on cops moonlighting in area bars), the City itself (who assumedly handles his water and sewage), and now the fire department. At the very least, he better make sure he doesn't speed on his way to work.

If that weren't enough, this is the same guy who wades out, during a hurricane, into a chest high floodwaters for no other reason than to say, "Dave, I'm standing here in chest high floodwaters."

I'd say I fear for the guy's safety except, well, I don't really care. His legitimate stories are intermingled with dubious accounts of "made in China" highway lane bumps and cafeteria workers stealing milk. Is it shocking that local fire inspectors are getting lap dances instead of inspecting our local schools? Sure, I guess...if Dolcefino's telling us the whole story. Recent incidents like his bumbling of the Kid-Care fiasco and his blatant lies about the United Way's "One Houston United" telethon for victims of Hurricane Alison make one suspect there's more than a little John Stossel to the guy, however. And it doesn't help that he begins every story by preening in a room full of his Emmys.

It's that time of year, I reckon. And for any of you local TV viewers so hard up for titilation you have to resort to jump cuts of strippers on the evening news, I hear this newfangled internet thing can be used to find pictures of naked women. Don't tell my mom.

Train in vain

Houston Metro's proposition for extension of light rail was approved by area votes in yesterday's election. This was no easy win, as Metro's been widely criticized for, among other things, inaccurate budget estimates and the snail's pace of construction. Without getting too much into whether or not I'm happy about the proposition passing (I am), I'll merely point out something an angle rail supporters should have considered.

Now, I have no idea if the rail line running to Reliant Stadium will be completed in time for next year's Super Bowl. I do know that one of the reasons the people of Houston were told we had to fork over money to build it (as well as Enr...er, Minute Maid Park and the Toyota Center) was that these facilities would help Houston become a "world class city."

I remember first hearing this argument back in the late 1990's, and trying to come up with a list of such cities. I think I decided on New York City, London, Paris, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Beijing, Barcelona, Washington DC, Mexico City, and Los Angeles, though those I'm not going to argue too vehemently for those last few. Now, what's one thing all these cities have in common? Could it be...rail? Why didn't Metro take a page from Texans owner Bob McNair's playbook and use the rail proposition as a way to guilt us for not being cosmopolitan enough?

Whatever. I'm just glad it passed. I'm looking forward to being the first guy to carve some profanity in one of those trains.

Die! Die! My Darling!

Halloween is my favorite holiday: not only are people encouraged to act oddly and drink heavily, but there are no pesky familial obligations. Nobody drives 12 hours to Illinois to spend Samhain with the grandparents. Nobody in my family, anyway.

This year, after handing out chocolate frosted sugar bombs to the voracious legions of unwashed toddlers that descend like a swarm of locusts upon our neighborhood every year, I'm heading to the Alamo Drafthouse for the 10:00 showing of 100 Best Kills:

For as long as there have been movies, there have been people dying in movies. Thanks to the magic of film, we've been desensitized to all sorts of horrendously violent acts: dismemberment, decapitation, asphyxiation, shots through the heart, hangings, flayings, being drawn and quartered, drowning, having a still beating heart ripped out of the chest of some unlucky adventurer, and that's just to name a few. To celebrate all of this psychotic behavior, the Alamo Drafthouse decided to put our heads together to compile the definitive list of the best kills that have ever been put on screen and then put those clips up on the screen again, back to back to back to bloody back. If you haven't been desensitized yet, this program will take care of that; we're gonna do for violence what "Showgirls" did for breasts. We won't bog you down with plots or characters or set ups or anything like that; we're only delivering the pay offs.

This calls for a bucket of Schlitz and some nachos. I'm cheating because I know some of the deaths that are included, but these are just a few I wouldn't mind seeing on the big screen:

The exploding head in "Scanners"
Captain Rhodes getting pulled apart in "Day of the Dead"
The alley cat in "FutureKill"
Almost any death in "The Story of Ricky"
Erin Moran's extreme blood pressure cuff in "Galaxy of Terror"
Shark vs. zombie in "Zombie"
The double-impalement of the fornicating couple in "Friday the 13th, Part 2"
The "human shower" scene from "My Bloody Valentine"

And so on. Even if none of those make it, I know Slim Pickens riding the bomb will be included, and that'll be plenty for me.

Arena weenies

Our local rag had a hard-hitting story about how impressed the local yokels were by our new multi-purpose, multimillion dollar arena:

Crowds wowed by Toyota Center

Oh, what a feeling. Toyota Center threw open its doors Monday evening for its inaugural event, a Fleetwood Mac concert. Fans complimented the facility but balked at the parking prices.

Inserting a corporation's motto into your "news" story is most excellent journalism.

Before Fleetwood Mac was to perform, competing beer vendors, stationed steps from the entrance, provided an opening act. Their voices bellowed as the first drove of fans rushed in past police officers and officials in suits. They began arriving an hour early at 6:30 p.m. -- some excited about the performance, others unsure of the parking situation.

What are they unsure about? By all accounts, the parking situation sucks. The Toyota Center garage costs $15. Parking at a lot across the street costs $20. That's at least...two beers.

There were some first-day kinks to be worked out. Ticket holders wandered directionless, and one concession stand ran out of tortillas and taco shells.

Not wanting to take the food to their $125 seats, stay-at-home moms Rebecca McDowell, 36, and her sister, Patti Wendlandt, 38, searched for seats near the vendors. Not finding any, they plopped down on the floor.

Was it really imperative to let us know that they're "stay-at-home moms?" Is this supposed to arouse suspicion as to where they got $250 for tickets? Or are we supposed to question their intelligence, seeing as how they just forked over two and a half bills to see a bunch of drug casualty has-beens?

The Summit/Compaq Center was built in 1975, yet deemed last decade to be "too old" for an NBA team, so Rockets owner Les Alexander stamped his feet and held his breath and threatened to take his players and leave (and as far as I was concerned, Louisville was welcome to him). Ticket price hikes in recent years have all but guaranteed that the average basketball fan in Houston has to be content to watch most games on TV, so I would've been happy to let them leave. In a few years, no one would've cared.

We've got a football team again, after all.

Event parking was also free. Maybe high priced lots at the Toyota Center figure somehow into the grand scheme to increase downtown property values.

Now Houston has three brand spanking new arenas, one for each major league franchise in town (venues hosting more than one sport are so 1965). Guess that means we're a "world class city." Remember that when your relatives want to come visit and have to sleep on your couch because of the hotel taxes.

"You now have fifteen seconds to comply, Mr. Mayor."

Does Houston mayoral candidate Sylvester Turner remind anyone else of Mayor Kuzack (Willard E. Pugh) in "Robocop 2?"

Turner seems to have that same throbbing vein potential for going completely batshit.

Maybe it's just me.

Solid

Jim Kelly (no, not the four-time Super Bowl loser), of "Black Belt Jones" and "Enter the Dragon" fame, will be appearing in person September 27 at the West Oaks Alamo Drafthouse. The theater will be showing both "Jones" and "Dragon" in what is sure to be a super-bad night of Scatman-fu, hippie whomping, and general martial arts mayhem. I've got my tickets.

Well, my good buddy Justin has my tickets, but he assures me I only have to buy him two buckets of Schlitz in exchange.

Image courtesy of BadAssMovieImages.com

Blow by blow

What does "meteorologist" mean in Latin? It means "liar." - Lewis Black

Hot damn, there's another hurricane out in the Atlantic, and a low pressure system in the Gulf, which means that all our local news organizations are girding their loins for more breathless coverage of the impending (maybe) catastrophe (or not).

Tropical storms and hurricanes are a big deal in the paved swamp I call home, i.e. Houston, TX. If you don't believe me, check out some of these images from when tropical storm Allison breezed through our humble town a couple years ago. It demonstrated both the awesome destructive power of nature and the necessity of having a cooler for the beer you were planning on drinking during the basketball game until the electricity went out.

Our family was lucky, in that neither our home nor our cars flooded. And once the power finally came back on, we discovered that all local programming (we didn't have cable) was fixed on the admittedly impressive images of the aftermath of the storm...for roughly the next three months.

This kind of coverage was understandable with regard to a titanic bastard of a storm like Allison, but it was only the latest in the local networks' long-standing pattern of milking every possible bit of fear and suspense out of viewers at the approach of tropical weather systems. It hardly seems to matter that computer models are roughly as accurate as a Ouija board while a storm is more than 48 hours out, or that storms like Allison are rare beasts indeed, for these days our doughty weatherpersons breathlessly report every developing tropical depression as if the End Times were upon us. Coverage increases in intensity until the tension is almost to much to take.

I call it "hurricane porn."

First, there's the foreplay, which (unlike in actual pornography) can take several days. It starts with Doppler radar and satellite images that grow progressively larger and, dare I say it, more tumescent as the system approaches the coast. Cloud cover grows and the winds pick up, and most TV stations will have reporters positioned along the coast in areas projected to be in the storm's path. These hardy souls eye the camera with come hither looks of dire urgency (I wish I could find screen captures of local ABC reporter Jessica Willey standing on a pier in Galveston during Claudette's rainy approach wearing a soaked-through white blouse - more than ratings were rising that evening, let me tell you). The anticipation continues to build in this fashion until landfall, which is where you get...

Hot hurricane action: water crashes furiously over the sea wall, palm trees whip back and forth in an orgiastic frenzy and street signs waggle suggestively in the wind. Meanwhile, the rhythmically swaying area street lights almost seem to keep the beat for the omnipresent frenzy. This is the period where one sees the most pervasive coverage. TV stations will often interrupt regular programming in order to cut to live shots of their other reporters, who can be found "braving" the storm by standing right in the middle of the heaviest wind and rains. Speaking only for myself, I'd have a lot more respect for a newsperson who did their report from a bar, sipping a beer and leading off with, "You know, you'd have to be a real idiot to be outside on a night like this..." Maybe someday.

Fortunately, the actual hurricane footage can only last so long, as most systems weaken rapidly once they make landfall. This is why television stations are so desperate for that money shot. You'll know it when you see it: a roof flying off a department store and disintegrating, or one of those aforementioned reporters getting blown into a ditch. If the networks are really lucky, they'll get film of a fireman rescuing a baby from a rooftop, or a woman pulled from her car just before it's covered by rising floodwaters. After something like that, you can't help but feel spent.

Once the storm has blown inland, you can finally bask in the afterglow: blue sky shots of boats beached thirty feet above the tide line, hapless shmoes sweeping water out of their bedrooms, and the weatherman telling us it "could've been worse." That's when you light a cigarette and compare property damage with your neighbors.

I'm waiting for the NOAA to extend hurricane season by a month and a half so it can include May and November sweeps.

Hyperbolic local news broadcasts are nothing new. We Houstonians are regularly treated to investigative reports about strip clubs and hard hitting stories about local contestants on "American Idol" and the like. The problem with hurricane porn is the same as with the boy who cried wolf, then the wolf raised him as one of her own and the boy went on to found Los Lobos...or something: it's hard to pay much attention to the stormcrows when the storms keep veering off into Louisiana or Brownsville. Eventually, another monster hurricane is going to hit Houston, and we're all going to be screwed because we're waiting for Jessica Willey's bikini-cam report.