Adventures of Bob the Dog - Witness Protection program

You are not going to believe this. Oh, wait, if you have kept up with Bob the Dog over the months, of course you will believe it. What am I thinking?  If you don't know what I'm talking about when I mention Bob the Dog, you need to go back to the very beginning - all the way back to here. And as you read about Bob and his escapades, there is one important thing to keep in mind. This is NOT my dog!

A couple of weeks ago, I stopped at Torchy's Tacos on Burnet Road for lunch, as I often do after a session at the recording studio. I ordered the #3 plate and sat down at an inside table to wait for my order. I'm chowing down on the chips and salsa when I hear a "Pssst!"  I look around the room, but I don't see anyone trying to get my attention.

    "Pssst! Turn around slowly mate!"
I knew that voice. Oh, did I know that that voice. I looked behind me - and still nothing.
    "Crikey, mate. I said slowly!"
And there he was, peeking out through the food pass-through window. Bob the dog, complete with apron and hair net.
    "Don't say anything. Come to the back door when you are done. Tap out "shave and a hair cut" and I'll open the door."
Shave and a...? Oh, I get it, the secret knock. I started to say something, but by then Bob was nowhere in sight.

I ate my taco, but I really didn't enjoy it. I was really wondering what in the world Bob was up to now, and why so mysterious. I finished and walked outside and around the building. There was the usual "No Deliveries between..." sign on the door, but I knocked anyway. And yes, I did the "shave and a hair cut" knock. Immediately the door opened and Bob grabbed me, pulled me inside and pushed me into a broom closet, partially closing the door. He peered out through the narrow crack and then closed it altogether.

    "Bob, you want to tell me what's going on?" I asked.
    "No time for that, mate. I only have a tock or two, then it's back to work."
    "Okay, Bob I understand that you're busy. Come by the house when you get off, or I'll meet you some where," I said.
    "Not a bloody chance, mate. They are going to move me tonight; that's the only reason I spoke up. I'll be gone tomorrow."
    "Who are 'they', and what do you mean they're going to move you?"
    "Witness Protection. Only they call it Witness Security now."
    "You're in a Witness Protection Program??"
    "Shhh! Not so bloody loud! Yes, I'm in a WitSec program. There are some very nasty blokes after me hide and I'm laying low."

I just looked at him, and he went on to explain that when he had his little "dust-up" with the TSA in Los Angeles he got out of that jam by trading information about drugs stashed in the baggage area at LAX for his freedom. Turns out that while he was "burrowed in the bags" he saw way too much and part of the deal was that they had to keep him hidden until they could arrest and jail those involved.
    "I thought you smelled out those drugs, like a drug sniffing... well, you know, dog."
    "Crikey! After Nashville, I couldn't smell a poesy if it was shoved up me nose."
I decided to let that one go. He said that he hoped this would all be over in a couple of months, and he would get in touch "when this barney was over" and just like that I was out the door. But that's not the whole story.

I stopped at Torchy's this past Wednesday and Bob was nowhere in sight. I casually asked the girl at the counter about him and she gave me this very funny look and said, "No one named Bob works here, or ever has in the past." Turns out stopping and asking about Bob might not have been the thing to do. After I left, in just a few blocks a black Suburban with tinted windows pulled up way too close behind me and stayed there.

Now, I admit that I read a lot of crime and mystery novels and in those stories the super-secret government agents always drive the black Suburbans, but seriously? Isn't this a bit much? It did make me nervous, though, so when I got off the Interstate I pulled into the Valero gas station - a nice, crowded, busy place - and the Suburban pulled in right behind me. I'm thinking, Okay, I know what happens next. A couple of ex-military looking tough guys in dark suits and dark glasses are going to get out and brace me right here, only what happens is a skinny guy in a rumpled polyester suit, who looks like Howdy Doody gets out and says, "Excuse me, Sir. Uh, sorry to bother, but can I ask, uh, a couple of questions?"

This little guy looks like anything but threatening, so I say, "Sure. How can I help you?" He comes over and the guy is really, really nervous. There's sweat on his forehead and his eyes are doing some kind of boogaloo, looking all around. He fumbles around and pulls out a wallet with a badge and a picture ID and says, "I'm Smith with the US Marshal Service, and I need to, uh - I need to, well, uh, I need to ask why you were inquiring about Mr. Sirius."

This throws me and I say, "Asking about who?" And he says, "Mr. Sirius; Robert Sirius. Back at, uh, back at Torchy's." I get it! Bob Dog; Robert Sirius! So I say, "You mean Bob the Dog," and this guy has a heart attack, right there!
    "Please! No names! I mean, no Bob names- I mean, uh, not that name!" and he's looking all around us like there's a bad guy behind every gas pump. Then he leans in very close and says, "Do you know where Bob, uh, Mr. Sirius is? We were supposed to pick him up, uh, I mean, meet him last week but he wasn't there. He's gone, and uh, we, uh, uh..." and he stopped talking out loud but his lips kept opening and closing.
    "You mean you've lost your witness?" I said, and Mr Smith just cringed.
    "Please," he said. "Did he mention anything about where he was going? You haven't seen him since have you?" he asked hopefully.
    "You did! You lost Bob!" And after that Mr. Smith didn't want to talk to me any more. Before he left, I assured him that I did not know where Bob was, and yes, I would be sure to let him know if I heard from Bob.

But I had my fingers crossed when I said that.

Adventures in Time Warner World

Let me just state up front that I drank the Time Warner Kool-aid a long time ago. That's who provides us cable, high-speed Internet and telephones. So if TW doesn't deliver we are essentially bereft, cut off from the world. And by-and-large they have delivered; there have been very few hiccups. But let me tell you a story.

Sunday night we turned on the TV to watch an NBA playoff game. After just a few seconds, the cable box re-booted. We tried again and it rebooted again. After a few attempts it seemed to settle down and we watched the program.

Monday night I turned the TV on and reboot, reboot, reboot! I called the tech support number and after a long wait got cut off (I guess that would be a phone reboot). I tried again, finally got through to Ahmad at tech support, explained the problem and after he told me all the things to try for problems other than rebooting, he finally decided the cable box was bad and I should take it by for a replacement.

Tuesday, after swapping the box, I had to call tech support again, because the only thing the TV would show me after installing the new box was a message that said "Please Call Customer Support." Raoul struggled with that for a while, but we did get it going. Tuesday night we turned the TV on to watch some BB and were greeted with a very poor picture. Serious quality issues here.

Wednesday afternoon (and here I tell you the secret to calling TW tech support; call in the daytime when nobody is watching TV) I got Jethro on the line, explained the problem and he immediately told me that there were issues with the cable coming into the house.
    "Uh, there was nothing wrong with the cable on Sunday. Why now?"
    "Maybe it's the wind. Is it windy at your house?"
    "No. No more than usual."
    "Well, maybe your neighbor did something to the cable."
    "I don't think so. I don't think she can climb up the telephone pole to reach my cable!"
    "I'm sure it's the cable coming into the house."
     "Uh, let's see. What has changed here - the cable itself or the cable box?"
     "Huh? Well, I'll set up an appointment for a technician to come to your house."

Oh, great. Now I have to wait weeks for Larry the Cable Guy to come between 8AM and 10PM. Please don't leave the house and lock up all your pets.

But Roger the Cable Guy was able to come the same afternoon! I explained the deal to him, he took one look at the TV and said, "The settings are wrong. Didn't the customer rep guy asked you about the settings to allow it to show 1080P instead of this 480P that you are looking at?"
    "No. I asked him why it only said 480P on the front of the box. He said it was because the signal was weak."

So Roger the Cable guy flipped through a few settings, changed the set to show the high-def 1080P signal and WOW! Look at that great picture!.He did say that it was probably a good thing that I went ahead and swapped out the cable box. He said that a software change on the old box caused it to reboot, and reboot, and reboot - but only if you turned to TNTHD - the channel the NBA playoffs are on.

Now I'm waiting for TW to call with their customer satisfaction survey. I have something to say to them about Ahmad, Raoul and Jethro. And about Roger, my new BFF.

Monday Meanderings - 4.25.2011

Much earlier than desired, we are at the point of having to put the sun shade up in the windshield whenever we park the car. That's a practice that you really don't want to begin here in April.

At Learning Ally (formerly Recording for the Blind) we read a wide variety of books, mostly text books, as I have mentioned. At the break, we discuss among ourselves the books we are reading, and usually we comment on how well (or poorly) the book was written, in addition to what it is about. If we say a book is well-written we usually mean that the author uses words considered to be common in usage, writes well-constructed, grammatical sentences that hold up well when read aloud. You would be amazed how infrequently that occurs in current text books. You would also be amazed at the grammatical errors, incomplete sentences, and typographic errors that occur.

One of our readers was so upset with a book a couple of years back that he wrote the publisher and laid out in great detail all of the errors in the book. The publisher wrote him back and asked if they could hire him as a part-time editor. He accepted, and now has a lucrative job working at home as an editor. So take note, all of you English majors.

Regrettably, I had to tell William and Kate that we just couldn't make the wedding. I think they took it pretty well.

I use the Google Reader to manage the blogs that I read, and on that page is an option for scanning an assortment of blogs gathered from the vast resources of blogdom. I confess that that is where I find most of my weird photos and stories. Theoretically, you can "tailor" the list to your likes, but something has gone horribly wrong. That list currently thinks I like blogs about - horses. And let me tell you, there are more Horsey blogs than Mommy blogs!

And every Horsey blog is looooong, with 20 or 30 pictures of their horse, or of their newest saddle, or of what to do about really gross-looking problems with their horses hooves! Being long is a problem, because in theory you can scroll down to the bottom of the blog entry and check that YOU ARE NOT INTERESTED and Google is supposed to get the idea that you DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY MORE PICTURES OF HORSES!! I think in reality there is a guy at Google who is looking at all the horsey blogs I have ix-nayed, and says to his fellow workers, "You know what would be really funny...?

Ran into a waiter at Pappadeaux named Josiah. We told him he would fit right in with our family.

I usually try to end with something humorous; this short little video is instead rather poignant. But I really like it. I can't embed it, so you'll have to click over to YouTube to watch it.

It's not over yet...

 
Fires continue to burn out of control in the Possum Kingdom area. PK West - the fire that held our attention so closely has been contained, but other areas to the South and East still burn out of control. The Forest Service has aggregated all these fires into what they are calling the "PK Complex fire."  The line is approximately 200 square miles, and more than 200,000 acres and countless structures have been consumed (and that's an out-of-date count).

One of the frustrating things, especially if you are hundreds of miles away from your point of interest, is getting accurate information about what is going on. It was that lack of good information (plus some bad information) that convinced us all was lost. Not until someone could actually stand on the property could the truth of the matter be known.

I know that's what prompted Jackie Fewell, a partner in Pondera Properties - a Real Estate company with a vested interest and knowledge of the area - to start a bulletin board service on their website. From a rented room at the Holiday Inn in Mineral Wells (they had to evacuate their offices on Park Road 36) Jackie and some helpers have reported almost 24 hours a day conditions as they received them. They have trouble getting good information too - they've had to reverse a number of postings - but they are trying very, very hard to post only verified, accurate information. By default they have become the semi-official "official" source on what is happening and who needs what. It only took a couple of days before their first page crashed under the load. The second attempt, http://www.ponderapk.com/PK-April-2011-Fires2.php seems to be holding up under the strain of hundreds of thousands of page hits.

There have been so many hits, and enough recognition of the site, that the Internet provider has given them dedicated bandwidth; AT&T has set up a cell phone booster so close to the motel they have to turn down the A/C inside, and the Holiday Inn Express has moved the operation into a conference room.

Reading the postings is addictive; I have to check back every few hours to see what has happened. And in doing so, I have noticed something very interesting. Some friends of ours were concerned about a fire near their ranch close to Cisco. The brother of our friend went to check it out, and he reported back that all was well and that "a little fire sure brings the neighbors together." So does a big fire. Read some of these (edited) reports from the Ponder website:

4/16/11 at 11:30 pm

Per Alan Fires - The PK Lion Club will be cooking breakfast for firefighters at the Lions Club Bldg starting at 8 am tomorrow (Sunday) morning.  We're sure they could use some help over there!

###
4/18/11 at 9:59 am
We are getting reports that the firefighters on the Peninsula need meals! We understand Lesa Matthews is cooking up a storm at the Coffee Hole which is a HUGE help. The firefighters also need meals brought to them.  Yesterday many only had a granola bar to last the whole day.  A volunteer group is forming now in Mineral Wells to make sandwiches that will be carried in to them.
###
FYI, according to our sources Walmart in MW has been depleted of water and other supplies for the firefighters.  Some are bringing in cases of water from town which is much appreciated.
###
4/18/11 at 9:59 am
We understand the Coffee Hole may need help replenishing cooking supplies for the firefighters - if you can help, call Lesa at (940) 328-2411.  She'll explain where you can deliver supplies.
###
First, there is an effort being organized in Mineral Wells. Anyone local interested in helping with food prep - meet at the MW Masonic Lodge.  Mesquite Pit is donating enough BBQ and buns for 200.  Joyce Nicklas will unlock lodge and pick up meat from the Pit.  Once food is ready, it will be transported to Graford ISD.
###
Tonight, hamburgers will be prepared at Graford ISD. Any meat patties, buns, chips and condiments you can bring to the school will be much appreciated. Water is being brought in from DFW by the Nicklas Foundation - they are on the way but if anyone can lay their hands on bottled water, snap it up and take to Graford ISD please.
###
Many of you have asked where you can make contributions to help out the local firefighting folks - Pondera Properties has established a fund to fill this need.
###
8:31 pm
Spoke to Wells Watson from Gaines Bend.  He is in his boat out in front of his house on Bluebonnet. He can see flames around the Swallow Cliffs area and homes are involved there. He hears propane tanks exploding. The Sheriff forced his evacuation - four of law enforcement people showed up with handcuffs so he agreed to leave by boat.
###
9:20 pm
Donations from generous people!  We have collected $17,152 to help our firefighters.
###
12:46 am
The scanners and reports have quieted down.  Probably a good time for a nap.  It is hard to imagine what tomorrow will bring, and viewing tonight's destruction in daylight seems unimaginable.   We will resume posting if anything significant comes into play tonight, and will be back at it again by very early morning when activity will pick up again.
###
7:05 am
Lesa Pawley, who has been providing food services from her location at the Coffee Hole was evacuated last night.

Miraculously, however, a group of PK residents (presumably from the metroplex) arrived with an off-site mobile food service prep unit capable of preparing food for 700 at a time. They are established on a ranch near Graford and are busy cooking up breakfast taquitos this morning!  What a gift!
###
8:30 am
WE NEED LEATHER GLOVES FOR OUR FIREFIGHTERS!  We are making a plea to get about 200 pair of leather gloves in assorted sizes.  Need to get these to the guys in the field asap.  If you can help, email us.
###
8:59
Wow.  We had a tremendous response on the gloves!  Thanks for everyone's help - we have gloves on the way.
###
9:03 am
To Donna Lucado - help is on the way to rescue your dogs from Gaines Bend.  
###
10:06 am

Chief Thomasson says he desperately needs the following:

• Four wheelers to follow the dozers - the guys have worn themselves out walking behind them
• Mules with covers
• Chainsaws badly needed
• Axes
• Hoes
• Shovels
• Rakes

###
10:13 am
Donna Lucado - your dogs have been rescued and they are fine!  Linda Johnson wants to know what they eat.  :-)
###
10:30 AM
If you have food donations and other items, such as eye wash, baby wipes, aspirin, benadryl, lip balm, sunscreen, etc. - please contact Lance Byrd.  He is taking supplies at his ranch in Graford. He is then distributing to the Graford HS

###
10:27 am
URGENT! Officials need gate code for Hells Kitchen in Sportsman's World.
###
11:09
Reported by Michelle Steuber - we have collected $49,463 in our Relief Fund.  This is a great start ... keep it coming - our local resources are going to need all the help they can get once we're on the other side of this. THANK YOU!!
###
1:00 pm
Have been offered a ride on the WFAA helicopter to go look at the damage.  Will try and come back with good info.  In the meantime, we have a good group to here in the Holiday Inn outpost to keep posting.
###
1:44pm
Per Steve Anderson – Gloves are being delivered to The Harbor Marina and will be picked up by the VFD. Many thanks for everyone’s help.
###
3:14 pm
Back from helicopter ride.  Ugh.
Feel sick from witnessing the destruction.
###
New Item Need: One of the requests we have been notified of is the need for insulated totes to deliver foods to Firefighters. Take to the Oak Street Baptist Church in Graham  These are needed up in GRAHAM for the west side.
###
1:12 pm
Wanted to let you know that there is a portable clothes washing unit brought in by Jimmy Bankston set up here at the Jr. High. They are willing to wash clothes for anyone affected by the fire. All you have to do is drop it off. They were able to wash clothes for about thirty firefighters last night.
###
11:31 am
From the Graford Post Office - just wanted to let you know that mail for all the Graford deliveries around the lake is available at the Graford Post Office. We still do not have any idea when delivery will resume at the lake. If any residents would like to pick up their mail we are open from 7:30am- 3:30pm.
###
Funds collected so far in the Relief Fund ... $95,000
###

It takes a community to fight a fire.

The Lake Cabin Episode

Saturday morning I wrote a eulogy for the Lake Cabin in this space. All the information that we had at that point was that the "Possum Kingdom West" wild fire this last week burned the cabin - and more than 30 other homes and cabins in that area - to the ground. Information was understandably hard to come by during the chaos of the fire itself; everything was indirect and from very round-about sources, but by Friday night the family had accepted the fact that the cabin and everything in it was completely gone.

The reaction - especially that of my sister, who is now the keeper of the cabin - was remarkably upbeat. "It was only things we lost. We still have the memories." We'll start over. One bit of good news was that Rosanne had the photo albums that document years of good times at the lake. And oh, by the way, one family member said, "At last, a chance for air conditioning and heating." Another said, "Electrical wiring that does not pop off every time you start the microwave." And "A shower tall enough to stand up in." And "A big front porch."

Then, later on Saturday came the news. A text from my sister said, "You won't believe. The reports are wrong. The cabin is intact. The old shed and the green outhouse burned. The dock walkway also. It got as close as Mom's flower garden. [just feet from the cabin itself] Evidence [that] the fire department was there."

It was at that point that the remarkable upbeat-ness and the reserved attitude were discarded. I burst into tears (and so did other members of this family). Yes, it is only things, but we love what those things represent. And I am especially grateful, for many reasons, that the burden of starting completely over was not thrust on my sister. Sorry about the A/C, electrical circuits and shower. We'll just have to figure out another way to do those things.

And there's gratitude to the fire department and all those who are volunteering. As Rob said, "Next time I see a fire department holding a BBQ fundraiser, I'm stopping and pigging out."  Amen. I'll have more to say about that on the next post.


But, you know -  I sure will miss that old green outhouse. Not.

Monday Meanderings 4.18.2011

No more volunteering for Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic. Now they are called Learning Ally. They explained all about the name change last time I was there; bottom line is that they do so much more than record books for blind readers they felt they needed to expand the perception folks have. So,  no more RFB&D. Now, when I say "I went down to LA the other day," you'll know I did not go to Los Angeles. Though why I would want to go there, I don't know. Los Angeles, that is. Except, of course, it's a lot closer to Fresno, and that would be good.

She said:   "What's the matter?"
He said:     "I got out of the car and my pants seat is all wet."
She said:    "Oh, I spilled water in the seat. I forgot to tell you."
He said:     "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that!"

Under the heading "Nothing is ever easy."
It's time to replace the current washer and dryer. I can't even find papers to see how long we've had them. In my mind, they are only the second set of such appliances in our marriage. But that's not the issue. The problem, you see. is that new appliances don't fit in the space we have. That was true when we replaced the kitchen stove, so now the current stove sticks out a bit. I have noticed that problem in other kitchens, as well, so we don't lose any sleep over it.

But with the washer and dryer it's not just sticking out that's the issue. It's having room for the water hoses and the vent - especially the vent that is the problem. At the very least, I think I am going to have to relocate the vent cap - the part that sticks through the exterior wall! It may even take some remodeling. Who needs clean clothes, anyway.

The party’s over for the University of Texas. UT, Playboy’s No. 1 party school in 2010, tumbled to No. 5 this year. The University of Colorado-Boulder tops the latest list. Rankings are based on a number of factors, including male-female ratios, success of sports teams (Uh … thanks, Mack Brown), proximity to “cool” recreational amenities and, allegedly, academic excellence. Say what?

Sort of like the academic excellence shown by this student, I imagine.

Confessions of a Rock and Roll DJ - Girls, Gifts and Payola - Stories for my Grandchildren

I'm documenting my illustrious career in broadcasting. You know, sort of rehearsing for the official biography. The first part is here. The second part is here. 

In an era when girls fainted at the mere prospect of catching a glimpse of the Beatles, or Elvis, or other major celebrity, one would expect that being an awesome DJ at the biggest station in town would bring about a similar response at one's own public appearances, right? Let me tell you a story.

One of my sponsors was a local record store named Breezy's Melody Mart. I would go by the store once a week and get Breezy's list of top selling songs in Abilene for the week and use that list to program records. On one occasion, as I was leaving, a teenage girl rushed up to Breezy and asked, "Is that Bob Anderson?" Naturally, I lingered so as to hear the rest of this. "THE Bob Anderson?" she asked. Assured that it was really THE Bob Anderson, the girl turned to her friend and said, "Oh, I'm SO disappointed!"

Even the girl I later married confessed to me that the first time I ever came to her attention - I was doing a remote at a downtown movie theater for the opening of  an Elvis Presley film - she thought I was a real dork. So much for attracting girls.

Gifts fell in about the same category. Some DJ's were getting them, but not me. Well, I did get free bounce time at a trampoline center for plugging their enterprise, and the folks that sold the souvenirs next door to the broadcast trailer at the West Texas Fair would bring me some toy on a stick every year, so that I could dangle it in the window and promote their business. I actually scored a couple of very nice sweaters from a men and boys clothing store - another one of my sponsors - but it was about this time that the Payola scandals hit, and that was the end of freebies of any kind.

Alan Freed, the DJ that actually coined the term 'Rock and Roll,' was indicted for receiving illegal payments to promote certain records. Dick Clark had a brush with the law as well and because of all the bad publicity all of the sudden radio stations across the country were scrambling to cover their collective behinds. I got called in, along with all of the other announcers at the station, and got grilled about payments and gifts that I might have received. I confessed the trampoline time and the sweaters (but I don't think I mentioned the Fair toys). The manager finally decided that since I had never been asked to play any specific records that if I signed a bunch of legal documents that I would never accept anything but good wishes from anyone ever again they wouldn't fire me. Seriously.

And part of the Payola fall-out was that DJs no longer got to pick and choose the music they played. After the great crack-down, when I would come in for my shift there would be a stack of 45rpm records in a box at the console. I could play those records, no more, no less. So I quit going to Breezy's for the weekly list, thus severely limiting my chances of running into girls who - upon learning who I was - would be SO disappointed.

A small musical interlude

This remarkably beautiful video, uploaded to YouTube one day before the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, turns out to be an ad for Sharp’s SH-08C telephone. It is, nonetheless, worth watching: in a tranquil forest, a single wooden ball rolls down a stepped wooden ramp, continuously, for two minutes. At each step, it falls and strikes a wooden bar tuned to play a single note of the 10th movement of Bach’s Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147, known in English as Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. Interesting how they handle the sustained notes.

Monday Meanderings - 4.11.2011

Sign seen in the crowd, behind the TV guys talking ad naseum about the upcoming Final Four basketball game: "Rice Owls. We didn't get to the Final Four, but neither did Texas!"

March Madness and college basketball is over. Now if we can just get caught up on our taped TV programs before NBA playoffs begin. You walk a fine line to maximize your TV time.

I might as well confess - our marriage is up and down right now. First Barb is up to go to the bathroom and then back down to bed then I am up to go to the bathroom and back down to bed. Repeat as needed.

I mentioned that our very most favoritest gumbo place is - through tragic circumstance - no longer open. So we have been searching for an alternative source. You can get okay gumbo lots of places (Red Lobster for example) but great gumbo seems to be elusive. Thought we were on to something when we checked out Pappadoux Seafood Kitchen's Salad and Gumbo lunch special. Pappadoux always has great (and expensive) seafood - maybe this would be the holy grill.
    Service - great
    Portions - generous
    Bread and salad - excellent
    Gumbo - disappointing

Our next attempt may, or may not be, a little hole-in-the wall that gets rave reviews, but has failed health inspections twice in the last two years. Maybe right after the inspector comes back for the revisit and improvements have been made.

Our annual contribution to living green is underway. Barb set out our tomato plants the other day. Now we begin the very satisfying ritual of checking each day for new blooms and fruit that has set; also the pleasant pastime of sitting on the patio with a good cup of coffee and watching the tomato plants grow.
 
Latest art project for Austin - "Play me, I'm yours." Fourteen pianos on the streets of Austin (literally) as part of Art Week Austin. Located throughout downtown in public parks, streets and squares, the pianos are for any member of the public to play and to decorate and personalize.

Confessions of a Rock and Roll Disk Jockey - the big city - Stories for my Grandchildren

I'm documenting my illustrious career in broadcasting. You know, sort of rehearsing for the official biography. The first part is here.

When I left for college, Mr. McB. wrote a letter of recommendation (in spite of all the shenanigans) and told me to go see his friend, the owner of KRBC Radio and TV in Abilene. It must have been a strong friendship because he put me to work immediately in the 8pm to midnight slot seven days a week, plus Saturday mornings! Compared to "On the spot with 1/2 a watt!" KRBC was the big time. I had arrived... and the audience response was immediate and huge. Previously, that time period was uninterrupted easy listening. To make room for me, they dumped that and continued with the Rock and Roll format and this made a LOT of people unhappy, it seems. I was largely oblivious to the furor, and fortunately it was not until later that I learned about all the complaints!

Two events from that first semester really stand out. The  first was a remote broadcast at a sock-hop at the Dyess AFB Youth Center. KRBC was well-equipped for remote broadcasts with a variety of portable set-ups, ranging from a small DJ desk to the mobile trailer (I wrote about the trailer at the West Texas Fair here). I had the DJ desk, and the deal was to play records all evening and in between chat with the kids and the sponsors on the air. I alternated with a live band that was there, and naturally I thought I would interview the band members too. It went something like this:

Me, to the band leader - "And let's talk with the guys in the band. Your name is..."
Band leader to me - "John Jones."
Me, to the drummer - "And you are..."
Drummer - "John Jones."
Me to the guitar player - "Uhh, and your name is..."
Guitar player - "John Jones."
Me to the bass player - "Let me guess..."
Bass player - "Yep. John Jones."

I thought that went pretty well, and when I started up the next record, the leader said, "You idiot! We all go to ACU and we'll get kicked out for playing a dance!" Actually I found out later that the leader didn't attend ACU - he was on the faculty! It was at that point that I realized, Hmm. I'm using my real name, and I'm out here playing for a dance. Is this going to be a really short semester?

The second event was the station's Christmas Party. Folks, here I was fresh from Podunk high, and believe me, I never imagined... I thought about crawling under the table, but there were already people under there. Let me just summarize by saying that was the last station Christmas Party at Abilene Country Club. I managed to leave before the cops got there and an announcer on the TV side and two women from traffic were fired the next morning! The story made the front page of the Reporter News! It was April before I quit worrying about a call from the Dean's office! "No sir, Dean Faulkner. I had no idea what to expect! Honest!" Okay, maybe the grandchildren don't need to know this story.

There were four or five guys (and one gal) from ACU working in radio and TV in Abilene at the time I was in school. Naturally we knew each other, and we would hang out together some, especially during school breaks when everyone else went home and we stayed behind to work. Back then - perhaps they still do - the dorms closed during the Christmas break, and we all scrambled for a place to stay. One Christmas, there were a bunch of us guys crashing in an 8x8 one-bed hutment normally occupied by a married couple (she went home for the holidays, he had to stay and work).

I don't know how to describe the hutments - army surplus, shoddily-built shacks used for married housing back then. You had to see them to understand about the hutments. Suffice it to say that there was barely room for two in a hutment; there is no way six can live there, unless they slept in shifts, which is exactly what we did. It was wall-to-wall mattress (two of them) and often the bed would still be warm from the all-night guys who had just gone to work when I got there about 12:30am. Another time several us stayed with an upper classman who had an off-campus apartment. He was the night director on the TV side and we both happened to be dating the night receptionist at the station. Awkward.

The jobs kept us there year round, of course. One summer I roomed with a guy who had a midnight to dawn shift at another station - we only saw each other weekends. We were in Edwards - the only air conditioned men's dorm and there was a block of white acoustic tiles on the ceiling for sound deadening purposes. The block was 8 tiles by 8 tiles, so we put dark construction paper on every other tile and pinned paper chess pieces on the ceiling. Before I left for work I would make a move, and when he came in he would counter.  We never finished the game - he married a local girl before the summer was over.

I had a part in his wedding. My role was to sit by his mother, who was NOT happy about the marriage, and when the priest (it was in an Episcopal church) came to the part about "If any here have cause..." I was to make sure Momma did not stand up and shout, "Me! I have objections!" Seriously, that was my job! This guy stayed in broadcasting and became a well-respected news director, retiring recently after a 38 year run at a station in northern Nevada. His current wife is not the girl he married that summer, so maybe Momma was right.

Next: the benefits of being a famous DJ; Girls, Gifts and Payola

In need of marriage counseling

I'm appealing to you, my fewer than thousands of loyal followers to help me with what just might be a critical issue in my marriage. I notice that bloggers feel free to give advice on important stuff like marriages and child-raising and which detergent to use, so I'm assuming those who read blogs are equally quick to put your two cents in, so here goes. Take a look at this picture:

This is a cute little Christmas card holder, complete with Christmas cards. We put it out in December and gather all the greetings of the season and wishes for a joyous holiday, etc. Works well. However, do you see the date stamp in the lower right-hand corner? That's the problem. Our cute little card holder is still sitting on the table.

Now, here's the part that concerns me and possibly affects my marriage. I have this uneasy feeling that this little card holder and all the cards therein are a silent message to me. Each year, when we take down the Christmas stuff, the stack of cards appears on my desk so that I can check for changes of address and check off who sent us cards so that we can reciprocate, if we ever get through addressing the cards that we meant to send in 2004 and somehow never finished.

This year the stack of cards is still sitting in the holder. Am I to assume by that that I'm not pulling my weight around here, and I should not only record address changes and who sent us cards, I'm supposed to pick them up and carry them to my desk. Is this a message like when my socks just stay on the floor and don't make it to the laundry? Inquiring minds want to know.

So here's my question? What am I supposed to do about this? Continue ignoring the cardholder and its contents, giving our children something to talk about when they come to clean out the house? "Look, here are Christmas cards from 2010 still on display. I hope I never get that dotty."

Or should I sneak the cards out some evening after Barb has gone to bed. Should I put up the cardholder and pretend I haven't noticed that it has disappeared? See, this counseling stuff is hard. So many ways to go wrong, here.

Well, that's the issue. I'm standing by for your answers. No pressure here - just remember that you just might have the insight that might SAVE OUR MARRIAGE.

Monday Meandering - 4.4.2011

Saw a sign outside a local tavern promoting "Beer and Bible Brunch." They may be onto something.

I was wrong about my prediction about accidents involving the Metro Rail. When service started last March I thought there would be daily accidents. It took a year for the first train/car collision; it was minor and  it involved a teen playing chicken with the train.

If you follow women's basketball you know that Pat Summit, coach of the Tennessee Lady Vols,  is a scary woman. If the team is doing poorly in the 1st half of the game, it is assured that they will do better in the 2nd half because they have to go into the locker room with that woman. Pat said in an interview the other day, "I don't know what I would do without halftime."

I think we have a problem. Friday we discovered that you could now buy Magnum ice cream bars at Wal Mart. Mom became very fond of Magnums on trips abroad, but we couldn't find them in the States. I've accused her of traveling to Latin America just for Magnums. Now she only has to go a couple of miles.

The other morning during COTP (Coffee-On-The-Patio) I saw a couple of possums wandering through the neighbors yard. Pretty sure they live under some outbuildings in another yard, and we've encountered them on our patio in the middle of the night. This was, however, mid-morning and these normally nocturnal marsupials were still out and about. Must have been late getting home from work or the all-night Tupperware party.


Live Nude Fish Part III.  Here's part of a letter to the editor of the Austin Chronicle about the on-going sign drama:

Dear Editor,
    Amazonia Aquariums has had our second live nude fish sign stolen! The first one got swiped, [and a] local sign company ... kindly gave us a free new sign that was hanging for about two weeks. Then, this weekend it was stolen as well. Now exactly who needs all these live nude fish signs anyway? Pray tell, who else has nude fish that need advertising? ... Why are live nude fish signs so popular with thieves? ... In response Amazonia is going to make live nude fish shirts that say "steal this shirt" on the back. Our live nude fish are so popular that now we may have to paint a giant mural that says live nude fish on the side of the building. Let's see them steal that!

Owner,
Amazonia Aquariums

I love this town!

And here is the current financial crisis described in a single picture:

 "This financial crisis is forcing state and local agencies to make some tough decisions. If things continue for much longer, there's a real risk that we may have to lay off Eugene."

Confessions of a Rock and Roll Disk Jockey - the early days - Stories for my Grandchildren

My Senior year of high school I got a job at the local radio station. A man named Hugh McBeth owned the station, KSTB,  and for some reason he gave me a job working  week-ends and later on, after school. I don't remember the circumstances - I think maybe my father put in a good word for me at the Rotary club.

KSTB was a day-time only AM license. That meant it shared the same broadcast frequency as other stations; for some reason radio waves travel further at night than during the day, so to avoid interference with these other stations KSTB was strictly sun-up to sun down. Our broadcast mantra was "On the spot with 1/2 a watt!"

The station played mostly Country and Western when Hugh wasn't giving the farm reports, or when his wife was not conducting the "daily swap meet" where you called up and told people that you had a barely-used dinette set that you would like to sell or swap for a baby crib. They had a guy named Jay Spenser - who was pretty well known in C&W circles working for them - and he played all the latest by Johnny Horton, and Ray Price, and Johnny Cash.

I opened on Saturday mornings and played C&W  and sometimes some of Jay's buddies would stop by to see if he was around; I met several famous and not-so-famous folks that way. I closed on Sundays and apart from the "Gospel Hour" I mostly played transcriptions - huge, 16" inch recordings that lasted 30 minutes apiece. These were for the most part sponsored programs, like "Serenade in Blue,"  featuring standards by the Air Force band.

There were a couple of other "announcers" that worked there; one, a guy named Vern who once set fire to my news. News came to the station by way of a Teletype machine - a clunky  box that was in effect an electric typewriter. The station subscribed to the Associated Press news service, and AP sent stories down the "wire" that printed on long, continuous rolls of paper. There was a 5-minute newscast every hour, so when it came time for the news I would go out in the hall, where the teletype machine was, tear off whatever had been printed and run back in the studio, dragging a trail of paper behind me. I would scan through the printout and read news items until my 5 minutes was up. One time while doing this I smelled smoke and turned to see that Vern had set fire to the string of paper and flames were quickly climbing up to my reading point. I would like to think I finished with some clever remark, but I suspect what really happened was a period of "dead air" while I stomped out the fire.

The console faced a window into the adjacent studio, which was used only on Sundays by preachers who came to expound once a week or so; the rest of the time it was dark. High on the list of DJ humor was to sneak into the dark studio, wait until the guy on the console was turned away, then loom up in the window to startle the DJ. Sometimes this would take the form of a lunar eclipse. The object, always, was to make the DJ crack up and laugh on the air.

For a while we had a morning guy that was not too well liked around the station. He had a bad habit of rushing in at the last minute to get everything going, so one evening a couple of us took everything he needed - his chair, all the phonograph records, the tape cartridges of commercials, the traffic book that had all the promos and such, and hid them across the hall. We left him with a 45RPM record of the Star Spangled Banner, the opening. Sure enough, the next morning at about 6:05, the station came on with the SSB, then there was a long pause, then it played again. Another pause, then came Stars and Stripes Forever, the "B" side of the 45. Then a really long pause, then music from an album that the station didn't own. He had gone down to his car and got a personal album to play while he tracked down everything else. Turns out Mr. McB.was not happy about our stunt, but we survived.

After marching band and football season, I persuaded Mr. McB to let me play Rock and Roll on weekdays - one hour a day, after school was out. Problem was, the station didn't have all that many R&R records. Back then, radio stations didn't buy records, they depended on distribution companies to give them the latest albums and records. Usually the distributors were happy to do this. Air play made songs popular and people bought popular songs (records) from the record stores. Unfortunately the record store business was hit and miss in our little town. Sometimes we had a store and sometimes we didn't. So the distributors paid us little attention. Jay didn't have this problem with C&W songs - he was so well known that all the artists sent him records. By playing some songs twice, and talking a lot,  I could scrape together an hour's worth of music.

The talking a lot part might explain some things.

Next:  Rock and Roll DJ in the Big City - the glory days