Serve Out

Yes, it is the end of the month, once again, and time to fearlessly reach into the back of the fridge and see what's left over. As Oscar Madison once said, when asked what the green stuff was in the offered sandwich, "It's either very old meat or very new cheese."

Ouch!

Eat much?

One bite at a time!

Speaking of eating too much - Shaq and his girlfriend!

So, what's on the walls?

You got it!

Go ahead. Everybody needs a smile.

User participation - you have to click on the picture. Go ahead.

Poor Gummy!

Awwww! So! Cute!

The secret behind the pulpit

Perhaps you saw the item recently on CNN about the new female Pastor in Louisville that outed herself? No, not that kind of out. But first, some background.

First Unitarian Church in Louisville, Kentucky was founded more than 200 years ago. This a venerable, long-established conservative congregation that took a giant leap recently - and hired its first female Pastor, Dawn Colley. So, the other Sunday morning, when their new Pastor said she had a secret about herself that she needed to share, the congregation held its collective breath, and then the organist started playing an up-tempo number and the members of the Derby City Roller Girls skated down the aisle. That's when Ms. Colley ducked into a near-by room and emerged in Roller Girl regalia, as "Liv Fearlessly" her nom-de-skate.

It seems that the search committee never asked her about hobbies, and she never brought up the subject that on Saturdays she hip-checked opponents into the cheap seats. She was pretty sure that sooner or later some parishioner was going to catch the show, so Ms. Colley thought it best if she got her altar-ego (heh, heh) out in the open and fess up to being a holy roller (groan). In other words, she could no longer separate church and skate (enough!)

There's no word out of Louisville about the congregations response to this revelation, but it got me to thinking. Out of all the ministry staff that I have known, some of them surely have had similar deeply-closeted secrets. Don't you think? For example, our current pulpit minister might well have had a career on the pro surf-board circuit, known as "Kevin Keomoka." Or that guy we supported in Guatemala all those years; could he have really been with the CIA?  Send lawyers, guns and money.

Think about ministry staff you have known. Weren't there whispers? Rumors? I'm just sayin'.

Monday Meanderings - 9.26.2011

Enough, already! One hundred five degrees yesterday, one hundred three expected today and tomorrow! This is insane!

Notice the date on this email.

19-Sep-82 11:44 Scott E Fahlman :-)
From: Scott E Fahlman
I propose that the following character sequence for joke markers:
:-)
Read it sideways. Actually, it is probably more economical to mark things that are NOT jokes, given current trends. For this, use:
:-(

With that post, Fahlman became the acknowledged originator of the ASCII-based emoticon. Happy 25th anniversary to the smiley face.

I noticed that Wal-Mart is going to offer lay-away this Christmas.  Lay-away played an important role in the financial fabric of my childhood. My mother often had items on lay-away at Anthony's or Penny's; she would send me in with a five-dollar bill to put on the item account. I suspect sometimes they were items she neglected to tell my father about. Maybe I should put that iPad on lay-away.

The good days are the ones where I can get out of bed, put on my glasses, watch and a pair of shorts, and I'm done. If I want to get dressy, I come my hair.

Do you suppose if I called NASA and said there was some junk from that satellite in my backyard they would come and haul away the trash back there? Rob tells me that it worked once before.

Two signs with football references; first at the local El Arroyo restaurant -

And this one recently went up in Waco in response to Baylor's plan to block A&M's exit from the Big 12.

Dear Reader's Digest

Dear Reader's Digest,

I have been a loyal subscriber nearly 60 years, by my reckoning. Grandmother Anderson gave me a subscription to your magazine somewhere around my 5th grade year. Perhaps it was even before that. The point is I have been with you for many, many years.

I was a reader before you accepted advertising. Remember the anguished soul-searching you went through before adding paid advertisements? But not just any ads - they would have to adhere to your strict family standards. Remember?

I stuck with you through all the size changes. I was there when you began publishing foreign editions and became the most-read magazine in the world. I read your Condensed books for years. When each book came, I read every story, starting with the shortest and working my way through the longest.

I was a subscriber during your growth to 17 million domestic readers, an unsurpassed number. I was loyal when 32 state Attorney Generals took you to task for your duplicitous sweepstakes contests and forced you to stop conning the public with your claims. I was still there when your US readership dropped to 5.5 million.

I stood by you when you filed for bankruptcy.

I'm still here even though you now send me only 10 issues a year, and charge me much more.

So, you ask. What can you do for such a loyal subscriber? Simplify.

• Just send me a notice - one notice only, Vassily - when it is time to renew my subscription. Not 6 months before, written in language that makes me think my subscription is about to expire. Remember the Attorney Generals?
• No more offers to send the magazine free to someone else disguised as a renewal. I tried that and I hear you hounded the recipient when it was time for them to renew. 
• Don't give me special offers that expire in 30 days; only to send me an even better offer that expires in just 30 days, and then send me... I get it. The longer I wait the cheaper it gets.

Just send me a notice and tell me the price. That saves you a lot of money and me a lot of grief.

And if you do, I might - just might - stick with you a few more years.

Sincerely,

Your trying-to-stay-loyal subscriber

Clotted Cream - Stories for my grandchildren

Yesterday morning was delightfully cool and I added Breakfast on the Patio to my regular routine of Coffee on the Patio. Breakfast consisted of a very nice cranberry scone, liberally covered in clotted cream.

If the term "clotted cream" is new to you, you might recognize it as "heavy cream," or "Devonshire Cream." It is a product of  southwest England - Devonshire and Cornwall both claim to be the original source - and it is a sinfully rich (64% fat), very bad for you (twice the calories of an equivalent serving of a cheeseburger) topping. No wonder it tastes so good!

We first became acquainted with clotted cream on a British Airways flight from London to the US, returning from a summer visit to Prague in July of 1996. Rob and Jana were with us on that trip and we spent a couple of days in London and the surrounding countryside on the return portion of the visit. Unfortunately, all of public transportation in London staged a one-day strike the day after we arrived, so we had to improvise (and walk a lot) but it was a fun couple of days.

We took one of the famous old-fashioned-looking London black cabs  - fresh off the work stoppage - from the hotel to the Gatwick Rail Terminal in Victoria Station and at the British Airways counter in Gatwick, found to our delight that we were going to be bumped up to Business Class. But there was a problem. The clerk indicated that only Barb and I were going to get the upgrade. I asked if the upgrade could be extended to Rob and Jana as well. The clerk peered over the counter at Rob, dressed in neat jean shorts, and said, "Only if he can change out of those cut-downs." We had our bags with us; Rob changed in a restroom, and we all got into Business Class together. I was relieved, because the truth of the matter is, I was going to accept the upgrade even if Rob and Jana could not be accommodated. Sorry kids, but that's just the way it was.

This was our first experience with Business Class, and if you fly much you know that it makes all the difference in the world in a long flight. Plus, we soon learned that British Airways Business Class is equivalent to First Class on many other airlines. It. Was. Divine. And at some point in that delightful trip, we were served snacks of mini-scones with little tubs of clotted cream.

You can buy clotted cream in tiny little jars at places like Central Market. It is expensive, and you had best use it up in about 3 days because it has a very short shelf life after opening. And like Business Class, it is delightful.

Monday Meanderings - 9.19.2011

If you saw part of this blog entry a few days ago, it's because the Blogger software has a mind of its own and will release works-in-progress into the wild on a whim. I probably should consider that if I ever start to write something libelous, planning on retracting it later. Oops! Too late!

The newspaper is a wonderful source of interesting and educational items. For instance, consider:

Austin American-Statesman
Sept 10, 2011Letters to the Editor

Calling all sinners: We need rain.

It's pretty clear that we're not going to get any rain unless a hurricane makes it our way, but we're not going to see a hurricane unless we get our act together. It is not a "high-pressure weather system" over Texas that's making all the Atlantic hurricanes veer away from us. It's high-pressure godliness, brought on, I fear, by Gov. Rick Perry's prayer meeting in Houston.

More than one of the preachers who shared the spotlight with the governor has warned that God sends hurricanes to punish us for sinning — and that means you don't get a hurricane unless you've earned it. The governor's revival was so successful that we're all haloed up to the point that no wind is mighty enough to break through.

I hate that it's come to this, but my trees need the rain, so I plan to sin like hell for the remainder of the hurricane season. Won't you all join me?

HUGH LOWE
Austin

I don't know Hugh, but I can't fault his logic. And then there was this item the other day:

Austin American-Statesman
Sept 12, 2011

TV Study Faults SpongeBob

Four-year-olds who watched nine minutes of the fast-paced cartoon SpongeBob Squarepants showed temporary attention and learning problems, researchers found. The study compared 60 children who were randomly assigned to watch SpongeBob, the slower-paced PBS cartoon Caillou or to draw pictures as a control.

After nine minutes, the children did four tests to tap their "executive function" — such as attention, problem-solving and delay of gratification — which allows people to set goals and implement them. Executive function is important for helping children to learn and function in school and be creative, the researchers said.

"Just nine minutes of viewing a fast-paced television cartoon had immediate negative effects on four-year-olds’ executive function," Angeline Lillard and Jennifer Peterson of the psychology department at the University of Virginia concluded in Monday's issue of the journal Pediatrics.

Obviously, our government leaders have been watching Sponge Bob Square Pants. A Lot. Just in case you missed it, the program causes problems with "executive function" — such as attention, problem-solving and delay of gratification — which allows people to set goals and implement them.

Do you suppose that we are too predictable and set in our ways?  When we went into Chuy's the other evening and asked for a particular waitress, the hostess said, "Yes, she told me to save this table for you. She's expecting you."


Read an article on the dangers of eating bacon. It scared me so much I vowed to stop reading.


Bumper sticker: "My honor student has a career in the service industry."


And sometimes life takes a little effort:

The Mouse Trap - stories for my grandchildren

No. Not Agatha Christie's long-running play (more than 24,000 performances and counting). The small contraptions used to control rodent population. But I'm ahead of the story.

For a period of time Barb and I made regular trips to Colorado. I wrote about the Trekking era here. But there were many other trips as well. Once we flew to Colorado Springs, rented a car and drove a grand loop through Colorado (640 miles) one weekend just to look at the Aspens. Glorious.

Often we made our way to the Leadville area, where friends had a Bed and Breakfast in a wonderful old restored mansion. One summer we imposed on these same friends and stayed in a pop-up camping trailer they had parked on property near Twin Lakes. It was a very pleasant accommodation, until night came and we bedded down, only to find the trailer had mice. Wee little creatures that scampered all over, gnawed noisily on the foodstuffs, and delighted in running up and down your prone body as you tried to sleep.

Tried is the operative word - I found sleep to be impossible when, just as you are about to doze off, some little critter runs over your head! So after a sleepless in Twin Lakes night, we journeyed to the Safeway in Leadville in search of mousetraps.

With such a wide variety of animals in Colorado - bears, mountain lions, bob cats, wolves, coyotes - I guess mice were not considered much of a problem in Leadville; the only traps we could find were tiny little imitations of La Brea tar traps. Little trays of a very sticky substance with a few grains of some kind of seed sprinkled in the middle. The idea was the mouse would be attracted to the seed, step into the sticky stuff and remain fast until disposed of later. So, we bought some, brought them back, and when bedtime came, placed them in appropriate locations. Problem solved.

Having been up most of the previous night, I had no trouble dropping right off to sleep. But after a short time, I awakened to a little "swish, swish, swish" sound. Found the flashlight, and discovered that a mouse had indeed taken the bait, but with only his two left feet in the trap. With the other two, he was pushing the trap in circles in his attempts to escape. Sort of like a little surf board. Swish, swish. Round and round.

Nevertheless, the mouse was caught! Now, all I had to do was... was... what was I going to do with this very alive mouse? The first inclination was to just toss him outside. But wait. Our hosts had a couple of dogs, who largely fended for themselves and would make a meal of a mouse, BUT this one had a little tar pit attached. I could just picture one of the dogs showing up at the house the next morning with a tar-pit mustache securely attached to his lips! No, I couldn't just throw it out the door.

But it's the middle of the night at elevation in Colorado and it is cold out there, dear hearts. I'm not going to go wandering around looking for a humane, effective way to dispose of this mouse! Wait! There's a bucket by the door. I'll put mouse and trap under the bucket, put a big rock on it and deal with it all the next morning.

This story would end nicely if we had had more little tar pits than there were mice. We didn't. And in spite of my best efforts, the bucket was overturned and all the traps were gone the next morning. I don't know if the dogs got into them or not. Perhaps there was a coyote or two wearing tar-pit embellishments the next morning. We didn't stick around to see.

Life imitates art

I have recently been reading some little books by Clyde Edgerton, an author who has been described as belonging to "the genre called 'Southern Writers.' Say the phrase and one immediately thinks of Faulkner, Williams, Wolfe, Welty, Morris, Styron and, increasingly Clyde Edgerton." His work is delightful - I encourage you to try him out.

Most recently, I read a story called "Walking Across Egypt" which features an elderly, widowed lady of the South, Mattie Riggsby, who - forgetting that she had sent her chair seats out to be recovered - accidentally sat down in her favorite chair and got stuck. Really stuck. Mattie was not rescued until the next morning when the dog catcher she had summoned the previous day came out to the house to pick up a stray.  It's only a small part of Edgerton's story, an accident that turned out well and plays a bit part in the rest of the novel.

But the other day, there was a story in the American-Statesman about Evelyn Rogers, 75, of Liberty Hill, who had gone out to water her plants one evening, sat down to rest on a canvas bottom-chair, and when she absentmindedly pulled on a piece of plastic sticking out underneath the chair's bottom -- the bottom ripped out and she fell through the opening and became stuck. Just like Mattie Riggsby!

Here's the newspaper account:

"I couldn't get out of it, and I couldn't turn it over,"

Her son and his family, who live in the house in front of hers, had left that morning for the beach at Port Aransas, she said. She didn't go with them because she thought it would be too hot. All she was left with was her Chihuahua, Lucy, who stood by her, she said.

"I screamed until I couldn't scream anymore. I told myself I couldn't scream anymore because it wouldn't do any good because there were no real close neighbors. I told my little puppy, 'We got to wait for the paper boy, because Mama can't get out of the chair.'"

So they waited.

Rogers said she wasn't afraid of the dark. She didn't even care that ants were biting her. But she was afraid of dying. "I didn't want the kids to come home from vacation and find me dead in the yard!" 

And the paper boy did show up, early the next morning. Ethan Mueller, a 30-year-old student at Austin Community College, was delivering the American-Statesman about 5 a.m.and  heard Rogers' dog barking "pretty furiously." He got out of his car and found Rogers "just sandwiched between two bars of the chair." A call to 911 brought help, and after treatment at the hospital, Rogers is back home.

Perhaps I should send her a copy of "Walking across Egypt" so she can find out what happens next.

Monday Meanderings, seriously - 9.12.2011

If you've been here before you know that Mondays are usually devoted to random thoughts and odd happenings. In a sense, today's offering is still a random thought, but a serious one. It has been a serious week in Central Texas.

The week before Labor Day we watched the "101 Ranch" fire, so named by the Texas Forest Service, that was burning in the southeast area of Possum Kingdom Lake. It had the potential to change our holiday plans, or at least the route, so I regularly pulled up Google Earth with the Forest Service overlay and checked that fire's status. No big deal. At the Lake Cabin, hanging out on the Internet is discouraged (easily so - there's almost no access), so we were surprised to see plumes of smoke all around the Central Texas area as we returned to Austin. Then we caught up on the news and were floored at the devastation that surrounded us!

It only got worse as the week went by. The destroyed home count at the weekend is approaching 1,500;  Bastrop - 1,400 homes, still only partially contained; Steiner Ranch - 23 homes; Spicewood - 45 homes; Lake Travis - 11 homes, arson suspected. Two have perished. Everyone knows someone affected. Church email messages have been flying - some news is good. Much is bad.

The newspapers, TV stations and websites are overflowing with news and information. A huge response effort is being mounted with the same types of stories that were so touching and poignant during the PK fires in April; volunteers setting up rest stops, kitchens, aid stations. Officials setting up information networks - where to go, who to see, what to do. Unlike the PK fires, in this metropolitan area information abounds. Ariel photos and maps have provided good and bad news quickly. The only thing they can't tell the displaced is when (and the weekend has provided even that answer for many).

I've posted no pictures. I'm picture weary. You can easily find them if you want.

But all that is table setting. I'm finally down to my random thought, and it is -

What would you take with you?

When they come to your door and tell you that you have 15 minutes to grab your most cherished possessions and go, just what would you reach for?

I know that you can find guides and helpful hints on planning for such an eventuality. The newspaper is full of suggestions and Internet references. Bank safe deposits, off-site storage, fire-resistant lock boxes. All good ideas. A Reading Ally co-worker saw the hand-writing on the wall (or was that smoke on the horizon?) and moved a lot of his more valued possessions to a storage facility in town. Things like paintings, a stamp collection, photos, etc. Unaffected to this point, he says he'll keep them there until it rains.

Some friends of ours who live in vulnerable locations, have mapped out an exit strategy, and packed suitcases that stay by the door or in the trunk of the car. When Roger and Marybeth were in Guatemala during particularly scary guerrilla and insurgent uprisings, they kept their "escape" trunk packed for immediate evacuation (and it almost came to that). Planning ahead is a good thing.

But most of the thousands and thousands of families affected this week had no warning. Most had, literally, 15 minutes. Or less. Many, if not the majority, walked out with the clothes on their backs and a few things in their hands. What were those things? Many pets. Many photo albums (when we thought the Lake Cabin was gone we all rejoiced to learn that Rozanne had taken the Cabin photo albums home). Many walked out with useless, nonsensical things, things that were nearby when they fled: a coffee cup, a library book, a pillow.

What would you take?  Photos? Laptop? Your mother's favorite vase that was bequeathed to you?  The family Bible? The ashes on the mantle? Really? Yes, I know, it's all just things that in the end don't go with you anyway. Walking out the door is the most important accomplishment. But looking around, is there something you would grab that would get you through the hardships of the next few days, weeks, years?

What would you take?

You can get anything you want - at Mary's Cafe in Strawn

"Walk right in, it's around the back, just a half mile from the railroad track."   -- With apologies to Arlo.

In Strawn, Texas, population 739 people, about a half mile from the railroad track on Highway 16 is Mary's Cafe, widely acclaimed to have the best chicken-fried steak served anywhere. Anywhere. Mary's has been written up in most of the major Texas newspapers; Texas Monthly named it one of the best, and its fame has circled the globe (one family from Abilene heard about it while visiting in China). And Strawn just happens to be on the way to the Lake Cabin at Possum Kingdom. Heh, Heh.

I carefully set our departure time on our recent trip to put us in Strawn just about 1pm - late enough to miss the church crowd. What I didn't realize was that Mary's IS the church crowd in Strawn. We got there at 1pm to find that about 80 of our closest friends were standing at the door, waiting for a table!

I asked the guy at the desk and the liar said the wait was 20 minutes, so I convinced my already-dubious wife that this was a wonderful opportunity to check off a bucket list item and besides it's not that hot, sitting out here on a pipe rail, breathing in the smoke from the latest wildfire thirty miles up the road. Thirty-five minutes later, we got 2 spots at a table, along with another couple.

The waitress took our order - "Two small chicken-fried steaks, please." I knew better than order the large; that's multiple pieces of steak that cover a platter about the size of a large pizza. Barb was not present when the waitress said, "Hon, we're short-handed in the kitchen today and this will take a while, but I'll get your order out the instant it is ready." Later, when I fessed up about the delay, she said, "So what? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and by that I mean we aren't ever going to do this again."

Mary's will seat, by my estimates, about 100 diners. There is a patio around back that will seat many more. For some reason, it's very popular with the biker crowd, and I'll admit that timing our trip to coincide with the opening of dove season was not a good idea. The menu is extensive and the reviews say that all the grub is good at Mary's. Almost all the tables are the standard 8-foot banquet table; the decor is early remodeling. In the picture above, you can just see the front desk and cashier stand on the left, plus the drink fountain area behind it - glasses of ice and canned beverages of your choosing. And I think about half of the population of Strawn works there.

The couple at our table both ordered large orders; the waitress brought the take-home boxes at the same time as the steaks. Turns out that they live in Ft Worth and come down every couple of months to eat their fill and cart the rest back for sandwiches for the next couple of weeks.

Was it worth nearly two hours added to our trip to dine on chicken-fried steak named the best anywhere? I'll be honest. It is very hard to ruin chicken fried steak, and I'm not a real gourmet. It was good. It was very good. The steak was thin and cooked nicely, with crisp highlights of batter. The pepper gravy (served on the side) was excellent - really the best part of the meal. The sour cream and butter for the baked potato came out of plastic packets; the salad dressing was in a ubiquitous squeeze bottle. But when all was said and done it was a chicken-fried steak. A very good chicken-fried steak.

And I'm thinking, if the next time we drive by Mary's and the line is down to oh, 40 or so, and if they say the kitchen is fully staffed, I'm thinking... I'm thinking... how am I going to convince my wife we should stop again?

The Real Hatch Green Chile Festival

One of the reasons that Chuy's Green Chile Festival is so anticipated and enjoyed is the handful of new dishes they come up with each year - all featuring, of course Hatch Chilies. Barb is not so fond of the Fest, being less a fan of the burn than some of us. She doesn't try the new recipes and she has to stick to the blandest dishes because there is a certain proximity effect during the Fest. For the duration, the output of the kitchen is just plain hotter. The queso is hotter, the tortillas are hotter, the water is hotter, so she says. This is the 23rd year of Chile Fest for Chuy's.

Except for longevity, however, Central Market embraces the new crop of Hatch Chiles to a greater degree than Chuy's. CM still roasts them daily, in big, electrically-rotated cages over a roaring fire (Chuy's gave this up several years ago - at least at our location), and the list of products offered featuring the chiles is incredibly long.

They have Hatch Chile chips, dips, and sips (okay, I made that last part up); the bakery goes wild and you can get a dozen different types of chile-infused bread (Hatch demi-baguette, Hatch cheddar loaf, Hatch Challah). The salsas and spreads are legion (Hatch salsa, Hatch remoulade, Hatch goat cheese spread). Game for some Hatch chicken salad?  Hatch crab cakes, Hatch sausage, Hatch turkey breast? I even saw a Hatch Cobbler. And of course, you can buy the chiles themselves, fresh or freshly roasted. Mild or Hot. This was the 16th year for Central Market's Fest.

But the real Hatch Chile Fest, is of course, in Hatch, New Mexico. Every Labor Day weekend for the last 40 years, this sleepy little village of  1,600 residents (four banks, two grocery stores) hosts a festival that now attracts as many as 30,000 visitors. Every way that the chile can be incorporated into some edible (?) form is at hand; green chile cheeseburgers, gorditas, enchiladas, burritos, etc. Dozens of vendors offer every chile-related product known to man, and a lot of other stuff, besides. Those big roasters at Central Market? Made in Hatch, of course. And this close to the source, you can get your chile in red as well as green, and they can be mild, medium, hot and "must sign the release" before eating.

Sounds like an event that should go on a bucket list.

Monday Meanderings on Tuesday - 9.6.2011

What's with the MM on Tuesday, you ask? Well, I was away for the weekend but I had faithfully prepared this MM - and scheduled it for the wrong day! Doh!  Oh well, it gives me a chance to tweak it.
 
Hope you are having had a good Labor Day. On Labor Day, I got my coffee, went down to the patio at the Lake Cabin, got my feet up...and nearly froze!! Below 70 in North Central Texas, sitting out in the breeze in metal chairs, deliciously cold. After so much heat and humidity this was heaven...this was delightful...this was too cold to stay out here! Ahh, up on the portch with a couple of windows open. Now that's more like it.

Yes, this is the Lake Cabin that was lost to wildfires in April, but miraculously survived. And the scars of those fires are all over the area, and within mere feet of the cabin, but it is well on the way to being a far nicer place than pre-fire.

Last week, I told the nurse at the allergist's office that I was allergic to the heat; was there a shot for that? She said, "Yes. A shot of whiskey." Doctors orders?

Our librarian was commenting the other day about the long line of people that would be waiting at the door to get in after an extended Labor Day weekend. Anxious to check out a book? No, anxious to get to the free computers. She said, and I quote, "The drug of choice in the 21st Century is the Internet."

Got a "text to land line" message on the phone the other evening. Some one texted me at the home number, and an automated female voice called and read the text aloud. Come to find out that's a feature for some phone companies. Not mine.

The heat has been hard on the birds, too. About the only ones that are showing up at the feeder are grackles and house wrens. But I have begun to see some finches lately after a long, long absence.

All of UT Nation has been holding their collective breaths to see what the Longhorn football team would be like this year, after last year's debacle. Saturday night's opener was a reasonable effort, and they won by an appropriate margin. Another Shipley, Jaxon, scored a touchdown (two, actually - they said he stepped out of bounds on one of them). But of course all this was against lowly Rice.

And did we get to see this game? Indeed not, because it was on the new Longhorn Network, WHICH NOBODY IN AUSTIN CAN GET! But some enterprising fans found that the game could also be viewed live via an online UStream channel — as long as you had the protected password, which hundreds of people, perhaps thousands, did, after the link and password began showing up in Tweets and on Face Book. Score one for technology and social networking.

So, one more home victory and we will have tied last years record.

We lost Cactus Pryor last week. His was the first face seen when TV was first broadcast in Austin. Humorist, broadcaster, friend to Presidents, Crown Prince of Denmark (one of his many spoofs), legend.

Prior to the Labor Day weekend, there was another wildfire at Possum Kingdom Lake, but at the opposite end from where the Cabin is (it's a BIG lake, 310 miles of shoreline). We kept tabs on it to see if it would interfere with our travel plans by way of closed roads. No problem. But when we returned to Austin, we could see smoke from fires on all sides of the city. As of Monday night, nearly 600 homes lost in multiple thousands of acres afire. It's a very scary time in Texas right now.

Stuck in traffic

The Texas Department of Transportation on Thursday released its annual list of the 100-most-congested roads and highways in Texas and Austin bagged 10% of the list. It is no surprise that IH35 - right through the heart of our fair city - is close to the top of the list in 4th position.

All the other major thoroughfares in town made the list too; US 290, Mopac, US 183, South and North Lamar, Loop 360 and Parmer lane, among others. It is comforting to know that the roads I travel daily have been recognized as among the most congested in the State. The rankings are based on "annual hours of delay per mile" and if you put a dollar value on the time lost, IH35 costs Austin motorists $133.13 million dollars a year.

But Austin is actually in good shape, compared to Dallas and Houston. The Woodall Rodgers Freeway, just north of downtown Dallas leads the pack. In fact, Dallas has the top 3 offenders on the list and the time lost for all three of them comes to $276 million dollars a year.  Houston doesn't weigh in until #6 with US 59, but it makes up for it by claiming more than 1/3 of the spots on the list.  I drove down to Houston a few years back late on a Sunday evening and got stuck in traffic on US 59 at 11:00 PM at night.

But there is more. Another survey, this one by AllState Insurance, says Austin drivers have improved their ranking for best drivers in the country - from 170th (out of 200) to 150th. That's right, by measuring collisions in 200 cities across the nation, we are the 150th best drivers on the list!  That's right, only 50 other cities have worse drivers than Austin, including, Dallas and Houston. The best? Fort Collins, CO. The worst? Washington DC

You gotta love this town.