Monday, April 30, 2012

Monday Meanderings - 5.2.2012

There is a restaurant in Las Vegas named the "Heart Attack Grill" that is infamous for its calorie-laden menu and waitresses in medical garb. The chain's slogan is "a burger to die for." It gives free meals to people over 350 pounds, and a sign reads "Caution: This establishment is bad for your health." That's a true statement because last week, for the second time, a patron suffered an apparent heart attack there while eating a "Double Bypass Burger." At least it wasn't the 8,000-calorie Quadruple Bypass Burger, with four half-pound beef patties, eight slices of American cheese, a whole tomato and half an onion served in a lard-coated bun. Other menu items include butterfat milkshakes and "flatliner fries" cooked in lard. To be fair, the establishment also posts this warning on the front door:


Speaking of things to eat, I am amused by the guys who announce the Rangers games on TV; every game they thank first one person and then another for the sandwiches and the fudge and the lemon bars, etc., that have been sent up to the booth. Then they may read a note or two from listeners. Sort of reminds me of the swap meet program back in my radio days: "Ethel Baker over at the Tastee Freeze sent us some donuts and asked if anyone had a pressure cooker that she could borrow this weekend." I admit that it was not uncommon to troll for free food over the air, but I never had the success that the Rangers announcers seem to have.

One of Austin's weirdest and oldest traditions was this past Saturday - Eeyore's Birthday Party (this being the 49th annual celebration of the event). Originally a spring party and picnic for Department of English students at UT, it has turned into a bit of a bacchanal, with costumes, drum circles, dance, food and frivolity. You gotta love this town.

And here's a bit of Bubba humor:


Friday, April 27, 2012

Wow! A free Fiat!

This came in the mail the other day  -


See the key pasted on the back of the car in the photo? That's a real key and I'm certain that it is the one that will start the new Fiat and let me drive it off the lot. But there's more!

So in addition to a free new car, they will give me an iPad also. Too bad I can't read all the fine print. It probably says something about all the other nice things they are going to do for me when I bring in my winning key.

I have to tell you that I haven't been all that lucky with these kinds of contests in the past. I remember that Edwards Jewelers back in my home town had a big sale once, and if you came in the store you could choose a diamond from a big jar and they would look at your diamond with one of those eye-glass thingies and tell you if you picked the real diamond. I didn't win. And several times stores in town would have a little treasure chest that you could pick a key to see if you could open the chest and win whatever it was in there. I didn't win any of those, either.

I did win a free pound of Bologna one time at Minchew's Grocery, the little store close to our house. All you had to do was tell Mr. Minchew how much to slice off the big stick of Bologna. I used to eat a lot of Bologna, so it was pretty easy. It's a good thing he wasn't giving away free olive loaf.

My other concern is that Fiat of Austin does not have a lot to drive the newly-won car off of. They are located in the Domain, our ritzy, up-scale shopping area, and a car lot just wouldn't fit in there, oh no, so they have a store front and park cars in the store and sometimes out on the sidewalk. And there's a bunch of steps to get from the street to the sidewalk and I'm pretty sure it would do something significant to the depreciation of the car if you drove it down the steps. The cars are pretty small, however, so maybe the salesmen pick the cars up and move them, like the guys in the dorm used to do with my little Renault.

But those are just details to be worked out after my winning key starts my new car. Tootles!

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Paddling - Stories for my grandchildren

I came across a news item the other day that stated that paddling - the application of the board of education to the seat of learning - is still permissible in 19 states. Texas is in, California is out, so only half of my grands are directly affected by this knowledge. Not that my Texas grandchildren would ever... No, never.

The article itself dealt primarily with the growing consternation with the states and school systems that still permit this form of social justice and the growing opposition, as expressed in court cases and public outcry. That's all well and good, but where was all this concern and outrage when Coach Holditch walked the halls of Breckenridge High School, wielding the Mother of all Paddles?

To be sure, this form of punishment was around throughout my educational career. As I recall, some of my elementary school classmates got 'licks.' I know Mr Baker, the Junior High Principal, kept a paddle in his office, and occasionally used it. But it was Murray Holditch, football line coach, history teacher and Texas Aggie forever that we all feared.

Coach Holditch was actually a genial sort of guy, and it was fairly easy to steer him away from the topic of history or civics and get him started on his favorite subject - A&M. He was an Aggie through and through, and loved to talk about all things A&M, and oh, my, is that the bell already?

But he somehow became the Enforcer at Breckenridge High School; goodness knows the milquetoast Principal wasn't going to paddle anyone - it was within the realm of possibility that some of the bigger, rougher voc-ed students would think nothing of taking a paddle away from the Principal - but no one, no one would think of confronting Coach Holditch. So when little 4-foot nothing history teacher Nell Cates needed someone whupped, she sent them to Coach Holditch. And Coach took his job very, very seriously.

The instrument of attitudinal adjustment, in my mind's eye was at least 4 feet long, 4 inches wide, at least 1 inch thick, and drilled with holes. I suspect in reality the dimensions were much less, but the drilled holes (now universally banned, even in the 19 states) are fact. Coach Holditch's justice was usually just a single swat, unless you tried to anticipate the lick and jump, or as in the case of Tommy Pennington, you tried to pad your skinny butt with a book. Tommy didn't sit down when he came back to class.

So, did I ever have my corporeal punished? Yes. Once. I don't remember why, but I clearly remember that it was not justified. I was absolutely, totally innocent. Coach Holditch's response was to ask how many swats I wanted. I could name a number or he would. There is only one answer to that question, and one result.

But I swear I didn't do it. Whatever it was I did.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Monday Meanderings - 4.23.12

A follow-up to the Sleep Study: the doctor's office called to tell me that the doctor wanted to schedule the second half of the study. By that time I had stewed over just how miserable the 1st part had been, so I said to the nurse, "The only way I'm going to do that again is at gunpoint," and I made an appointment to discuss this with the doctor.

So I go in for the appointment and the woman at the desk gets the giggles when I tell her my name, and then the nurse comes and gets me, and as we're walking down the hall, she says, "At gunpoint, huh?" and when the doctor comes in he's grinning and says, "Just want you to know I'm not carrying." It's in my chart, for crying out loud!! I'm probably going to get written up in a medical journal somewhere, or get quoted in the "Ridiculous Things Patients Say" column in the newsletter!

Can't help but wonder what happens out there in Cyberspace; for some reason the majority of Google hits on this blog this month have been about the album of old-timey 78rpm records that I found, with most of the searches  for this subject originating in Europe. What incident or happening in Europe has generated an interest in old records? IMWTK (by the way, that means "Inquiring Minds Want To Know," and should not be confused with the old geezer text abbreviation for "I Might Want The Kaopectate."

Waiting at a traffic light and a guy crosses in front of us, pushing an empty wheel chair. He had the look of a  panhandler, so I wondered if the wheel chair was part of his persona and now that he was off work, he no longer needed to sit in it. However, after crossing the street, he took a bucket of water from the seat of the chair and poured it on the grass. I have no idea, but this is Austin.

They unveiled a statue of Willie Nelson outside  the Austin City Limits studios this week. Someone commented that it was too bad the statue was bronze; they always considered him a stoned sort of guy.

And did you hear about the paranoid dyslexic? He's always afraid he's following someone.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Want to be in a rowdy crowd?


Barb volunteers weekly at our local public library, so from time to time she gets emails from the City of Austin about various and sundry things. The most recent was titled "Volunteers needed for Role Play assistance with [APD] Special Response Team (SRT)." And the message began with...
This will be a Crowd Control Role Play.  You will be a rowdy crowd for this training.  You will not be roughed up by the officers (you shouldn’t be touched at all).  One and all are encouraged to participate, this will help the officers learn to deal with crowds that they might encounter during a protest rally or large gathering in the city.
Okay. If I read this correctly, the City of Austin wants folks to come and pretend to be part of an angry crowd. I guess pretend is the operative word; goodness knows we have any number of non-pretend angry crowds in ATX - just go down to City Hall any time the Council is in session, or 6th Street on any holiday, or the Drag, following a UT football loss. At least we don't burn couches. Yet.

But we do have rowdy crowds from time-to-time, and I guess the Police Powers-that-be think that it would be best if the line officers got a taste of rowdiness in a controlled situation. Where things could be cooled down easily. Maybe. You did notice the shouldn't in the parenthetical phrase (you shouldn’t be touched at all) didn't you? Oh, this could be on YouTube so fast!

I probably ought to volunteer for this. You will recall that I have experience in an unruly crowd, having participated in the near-riot outside ABIA just after our return from California this Christmas. And Barb should go along with me so that cooler heads could prevail, like in December. Just so the phrase does not become (you might not be touched at all).

Want to join me?

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Sleep Study

Or, How I spent the worst night of my life and paid a bunch of money to do it!

I previously mentioned that Barb had a sleep study done and now has a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine to keep her company through the night. What I might not have mentioned was this was a twofer deal. I will if you will. So she did, and now it's my turn.

I have known for some time that I was a prime candidate for sleep apnea - the condition where you stop breathing for a short period of time until the brain says, "Hey, you! Take a deep breath!" Turns out that this is not good for you from a number of standpoints. And the snoring that usually accompanies this condition is not good for marital bliss and spousal accord. Though I deny that I snore. I've never heard myself snore, so I'm sure I don't. Nevertheless, a deal is a deal and last Thursday I had a sleep study done.

Why they call them sleep studies is beyond me. Nobody gets any sleep during this procedure; I sure didn't, and the little man that conducted the study didn't either. Can you imagine staying up all night just to watch someone try to sleep? And if they do sleep, you get to hear them snore! But I digress.

Getting ready for one of these studies is not a trivial process, and takes about an hour of preparation. The first order of business was to measure my head from a number of different perspectives and use the measurements to determine where to draw little guidelines with a red marker. It's sort of like the survey crew you see on the roadside, where the guy with the little can of red paint makes a bunch of strange-looking marks on the ground. This was all to determine where to place the electrodes to pick up my brain waves. Good luck with that.

Survey marks in place, the technician then began to place various other electrodes on different parts of my body. Two on each leg, four around the neck area, two more for each upper arm. But unlike what you may have experienced in electrode placement - say, for an EKG, where the nurse slaps a big sticky patch on you - these electrodes are placed only after careful cleansing and defoliation of the skin. This is done with industrial strength sandpaper, or perhaps it was a wire brush. I couldn't see what he was using, I only felt it.

Once abraded, a liberal dose of super glue was applied, and then the electrode, and then the whole thing was taped down! Evidently, the tossing and turning that is part of the actual sleepless study can displace poorly placed electrodes. My electrodes were not poorly placed. Next a velcro belt around the stomach with a few electronic sensors in place. Perhaps these were to listen to my stomach gurgle. Then another belt around the chest, with more sensors. No doubt these were to check the heart and determine the exact moment in time that I expire.

Back to the survey marks and more abrading, flensing and super gluing to attach a half-dozen sensors on my skull (including one in the middle of my forehead) ; two more on the sides of my head to detect eye movement, a couple on the jaw, one on each ear (!) a microphone taped securely on my larynx and a couple of tubes stuffed up my nostrils and taped in place. I am now ready for bed!

By my count, I now had more than twenty sensors permanently affixed to my body, gathered in an umbilical cord that plugged into a large "jack box" which in turn was cabled to the monitoring computer. "Uh, excuse me." "Couldn't you have thought of that before we started?"

Now it's lights out and I'm tucked in and I'm supposed to be able to sleep. Not. Going. To. Happen. I toss. I turn. I try this side, then the other side. Ouch! My middle-of-the-forehead cable is snagged around my pillow. What's that lump under my arm? I think that's the sensor that's supposed to be in the middle of my chest. My back hurts. My hips hurt. My legs are killing me. Oh, no. My leg is having spasms! I've got Restless Leg Syndrome, and I wrote down on the questionnaire that I don't. This bed is too hard; where's the sleep-number control? Oops. Now I'm lying on the box springs; how do I get it pumped back up? Dang, that's loud. I wonder if the technician is uploading this to YouTube? It's been two hours, and I haven't dozed off yet. How can we measure my sleep apnea if I never fall asleep? "ROBERT. I NEED YOU TO TRY SLEEPING ON YOUR BACK." Sweet Louise! Scare a guy to death! Okay, Okay, I'm on my back. I need a pillow under my legs. There's another pillow on the other side of the room, but I'm chained to this bed. "THANK YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP IN ANY POSITION NOW." Stop that! Just when I'm dropping off to sleep... Who am I trying to kid? It's too hot. Now I'm freezing. Is it morning yet? Please, oh please? It's only 11:45!! Just shoot me! Please. "ROBERT, IT'S 7:30. TIME TO GET UP."

You want to know the good news? This was part one of a two-part study. I get to do the second part once the electrode-placement areas have healed properly.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Monday Meanderings - 4.16.2012

It has taken me a while, but I've just about figured out all the cryptic shorthand messages embedded in tweets and FaceBook. Things like LOL and FWIW. In fact, after some careful study I've discovered that Seniors have developed our own shorthand. Like:

ATD - At The Doctors
BFF - Best Friend Fell
BTW - Bring The Wheelchair
BYOT - Bring Your Own Teeth
CBN - Covered By Medicare
CUATSC - See You At The Senior Center
DWI - Driving While Incontinent
FWBB - Friend With Beta Blockers
FWIW - Forgot Where I Was
FYI - Found Your Insulin
GGPBL - Gotta Go; Pacemaker Battery Low
GGJIO - Gotta Go; Jeopardy is on
GGTLKI - Gotta Go; Laxative Kicking In
GHA - Got Heartburn Again
IMHO - Is My Hearing Aid On?
LOL - Living On Lipitor
LMDO - Laughed my Dentures Out
OMMR - On My Massage Recliner
OMSG - Oh My! Sorry, Gas
ROFLACGU - Rolling on Floor Laughing And Can't Get Up
TTYL - Talk To You Louder
WAITT - Who Am I Talking To?
WWNO - Walker Wheels Need Oil
...and for my family...
HAGDT; HAGBM
Yesterday in church there were  two count-down clocks projected  on the front walls of the auditorium. When we walked in, the displays read "20 Days, 23 hours, 50 minutes and 16 seconds till Floodgate." Floodgate is the Sunday that we make a large single contribution to cover many of the ministries that fall outside the budget (as well as some budgeted areas). The displays are counting down, of course, all the while. I was discussing this with a CPA friend between services, and he said, "Did Kevin preach a sermon this morning? If so, I missed it 'cause I was too busy watching the numbers change." Perhaps the staff needs to rethink this particular method of reminding us about Floodgate. Just Saying.

Have you seen this yet? Nicely done, and worth 2 minutes of your time.

Friday, April 13, 2012

The Tribute

In the very early hours of Good Friday, Austin Police Senior Officer Jaime Padron was shot and killed when he responded to a call at the Wal-Mart a few miles from our house.

Everything that we read and hear about Officer Padron is that he was a good man; a decent man, an adoring father of two young girls, an ex-Marine who served his country and his city with valor and honor.

Services for Officer Padron were held Wednesday, and thousands of his fellow officers from around the state and nation came to honor him. Afterwards, Police and Emergency vehicles from almost every city and township in Texas, and some from neighboring states, took part in a procession that began in North Travis County and proceeded down IH-35, through downtown Austin, a procession of vehicles that stretched some 18 miles in length.

The service and procession times and route had been broadcast for several days, in that southbound IH-35 would be completely shut down for several hours, from Highway 45, in the northern part of the county, to Highway 71 at the southern edge. The procession was to have started at 1PM. Barb and I were in the area of the shopping center that borders IH-35 to our North a little after 1PM; cars and trucks and people were lining the roadsides. Some just stopped and parked on IH-35. A half-dozen truck tractors had lined up in a row, caution lights flashing.

Not surprisingly, the service ran long - way long. I was keeping current with a Twitter feed from the Statesman, and it was obvious that it was going to be quite a while before the procession, so we finished our business and returned home. A little later, I drove up to the Breaker overpass area, parked the car and walked out onto the overpass itself. There were several dozen people already there, as well as others parked along the access road, some sitting on their vehicles.

There were a couple of older gentlemen on the overpass, and I took up a position with them. I told Barb that at first I placed these gentlemen in my father's generation, then realized, no, they are in my generation. We talked quietly about law and order and the lack of respect and the general breakdown of society at large while we waited. Two fire department hook and ladder trucks pulled up on the overpass behind us and stopped, and their crews took up position with us. By this time people were two and three deep across the overpass; there were now 6 or 8 large American flags in display. I'm told that this scene was repeated on every overpass on the route.

It was obvious when the service itself was over - a number of police vehicles joined the southbound traffic, hurrying back to duty stations. As they neared the crowded overpass, many of them made a little blip with their sirens; some used their loudspeakers to say "Thank You."

At about 2:45PM, the southbound traffic dwindled to just a few cars, then no cars. It stayed that way for about 5 minutes, then a long line of Officers on motorcycles came down the Interstate. There was a pause, then the hearse, motorcycle patrolmen at each wheel, came into sight. Behind them, as far as you could see, police cars with emergency lights flashing.

The firemen had taken a position on one of the trucks; they were standing at attention, saluting. Looking South, there were people lined up on either side of the Interstate. Some had yellow balloons. Some had flags. Many had signs. And so it was, I'm told, all through town, along IH-35, and then along Highway 71. At that point, a smaller contingent continued through the Hill Country and people lined the highway, the streets of Llano and the streets of Brady. Police vehicles from San Angelo had joined the procession along the way, to escort Officer Padron to his hometown.

And on the common police band used for all the procession, came the radio call:

"Badge 6674 is now 10-42, End of Watch. Godspeed Jaime."

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Demerit Badges

My father and my brother were active in Scouting. I had a very short tenure in Cub Scouts. I don't think I was actually kicked out - that particular memory is sort of fuzzy - but I was not encouraged to join the local Boy Scout troop when I was older. Go figure. But the other day I came across something that really resonated with that era - Demerit Badges! Yes, Demeritwear.com offers a wide range of badges to mark dubious achievements. Among them, "I Burned My Marshmallow."


And its counterpart, "My Hotdog is on Fire."

Or how about other outdoor achievements, like "Chair Lift Issues."


Or "Sailing on Abilene Zoo Lake."


Or "No, we don't need gas."


And a couple I can certainly identify with - "Blisters" and "Deep-Sea Fishing."



There's a series on Mountain-top experiences familiar to our family:


Peaks obtainable by auto, I might add. And then there's the food achievements:





But my favorite is the "Old Geezer" badge.


There are many more badges of dubious merit. I'm sure you'll find something that's just right for you.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Monday Meanderings - 4.09.2012

Spring in Austin continues to be delightful; the weather has provided some primo patio sitting this past week. It's been gorgeous, but I still want one of those carpets like I'm seeing in the Lowes TV commercial. You know, the one where the woman takes the carpet out of storage and unrolls it outside to become a beautiful flower-filled green lawn, complete with fountains, paths and stepping stones.

Speaking of patio, I came out the other morning and found a little fungus forest, growing out of the door mat.


They were short-lived little organisms - less than two hours later they were flat and shriveled up. And the same morning I found this guy wandering among the pots.


So now when I'm out on the patio I have birds and snails to keep me company and 'shrooms to keep me happy.

The Time-Warner cable saga continues. Once again, I had to call customer support about our misbehaving cable box. I've called so often that I have been assigned a special number to cut through all the uh... red tape. For a while there, TW would insist on going through an elaborate process to prove that I was who I really claimed to be. The usual name address, phone number, then - and I kid you not - SSN, 18-digit account number, the services I was paying for, and the exact date and amount of my last bill! I was livid at this point, unable to convince the tech of the absurdity that I might be calling about problems with some service other than my own! That's when the supervisor I demanded to speak to assigned me my own account code. "Just give the representative this number and there would be no hassle."

Well, I don't know if it would have helped or not. This last call, the technician started right in on my problem with no questions asked. I thanked him for that, and he said, "Yeah, like you are going to call with somebody else's problem." Now we have another new cable box. This time a technician came to the house and replaced it with a brand new model that TW has started using and checked it all out. Knock. knock.

Service trucks were lined up around the block that morning; TW and the air conditioning people as well, since they found a leak in the coils in the inside unit and came to replace it. I love warranty work.

I'm becoming very fond of reading e-books, either on the Kindle itself, or the Kindle app on the iPad. I've discovered that I can prop the iPad up on the treadmill, enlarge the type just a bit and walk and read at the same time. Like movies, the page-turners tend to have you walking for long distances. One of my favoritest things is that I can tap on an obscure word and get an instant definition and pronunciation (sure wish I could do that at the Learning Ally studios). And the Kindle device has an "X-Ray" feature that gives you a synopsis of every character in the book. Confused about who John Smith is? X-Ray to find all of the places he's mentioned previously. How cool is that?

Friday, April 6, 2012

Deep thoughts while listening to the Dixie Chicks. Really.

This post first appeared in January of '09. It's still true.
 
I'm doing my daily grind on the treadmill, working through the play lists on the iPod, and I get to some Dixie Chicks - specifically "Evening with the Dixie Chicks" recorded at the Kodak Theater in Los Angeles. Nice venue, great crowd, really exceptional recording - especially for a live show. The Chicks (is that politically correct?) do a show of new material based on the "Home" album, and then for the encore come back and do the standards - and invite the audience to sing along.

And they do. The audience knows every word to every song they sing!

What must it feel like to hear your music echo back to you? To know that something you created and recorded has been taken to heart by so many that they can sing it as well as you can? The Kodak Theater seats just over 3,000 people, and in the video it looks like all 3,000 are singing along (and that's just a tiny fraction of the potential - even I can sing along!).

Yes, I agree that "Cowboy Take me Away" will not become an enduring classic for all ages; but I wonder if Beethoven or Brahms or any other classical composer ever had 3,000 people stand up and sing or hum their composition back to them? I'm not sure I can even name three of Beethoven's greatest hits!

It makes one think about what one's own legacy will be? What song will I sing in my lifetime that someone would even remember, let alone sing it along with me? What song will you or I plant in the hearts of people we come in contact with, and will they be able to recall it later?

I think I have some composing to do.


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The 1940 Census

Tuesday morning, April 16, 1940, Blanche Mitchell knocked on my parent's door. Blanche was the Census Taker for Enumeration District 186-1A, Pecos County, Fort Stockton, Texas. It was mid-morning, Blanche's 4th stop of the day. She had already talked to the neighbors, the Bobos, the Connalys, and the Reimunds. My father was at work, my brother and sister were in school and my mother came to the door and subsequently answered Blanche's questions.

The questions were, for the most part, pretty straight-forward: my parents rented the little house they were in (which had no street number), paying $23 a month rent. My father and mother were 32 years of age; my sister was 10 and my brother 8. My father had completed 4 years of high school, my mother 1. My sister had completed the 5th grade and my brother the 1st. All of them were born in Texas, all of them were white, and all of them had been living there in Fort Stockton, in town (as opposed to a farm) on that same date in 1935.

My father was a "Combination Man" for Southwestern Bell Telephone - classified as a "Public Worker" - earning $1,950 the previous year and received no income other than wages or salary. My mother was a housewife, and my siblings were, of course, students.

My mother was not one of the 5% chosen for the supplemental questions. Two individuals per form page were chosen for those questions; one selected earlier was little Tommy Bobo, only 3 years old. Most of his answers were "No" or blank. Later, Irma Hallford, two doors down, had to answer 21 additional questions about her parents birthplace, military service in the family, Federal Social Security, tax deductions, number of marriages and total number of children, among other queries that most people thought were nobody's business.

Yes, the 1940 Census is now available to the public. And for the first time, the entire enumeration is available at no cost on the Internet (almost all of the earlier census information is also available, but on pay sites). The catch is, this census is not indexed, so you have to search by Enumeration Districts. Fort Stockton had only three and I got lucky and found what I was looking for on the 9th sheet of the first ED. Good luck with your Aunt Maude, who lived in Chicago.

The 1940 census reflects the economic tumult of the Great Depression and President Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal recovery program of the 1930s. Besides the usual name, age, relationship, and occupation, the 1940 census asked if anyone in the household, during the week of March 24–30, 1940, was at work on, or assigned to, public emergency work projects conducted by the WPA, the NYA, the CCC, or state or local work relief agencies. If unemployed, for how long, was this person able to work and was this person actively seeking work?

There was little new information in this census about my parents, though I was surprised that my mother had but one year of high school. Somehow I missed that. But it is an interesting document, nevertheless. Several entries before that of my parents, I came across the Burcham family. I don't actually remember the Burchams (we moved from Fort Stockton when I was about 2), but I remember the name as family friends - especially, for some reason, the youngest daughter - Roxie. The Bobo name is also familiar, but that may have been an association from somewhere else.

Interesting reading. I'm looking forward to checking out some of the more distant branches of the family tree.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Monday Meanderings - 4.02..2012

Happy day after April's Fool Day.

In my Springtime in Austin blog, I forgot to mention the Texas Relays - another spring-time event that draws thousands of high school and collegiate athletes to Austin every April. I personally never participated in the Relays - I deem it short-sighted of them to not offer sack races or three-legged events.

Saw a bumper sticker that said "Running Man for President - 2012." I guess if Leslie is gone there is a local weirdness vacuum that needs to be filled. My references to Austin's Running Man - the dude who runs and dances on the HEB grassy median - continue to have the highest number of Google hits on this blog, some 220 page views thus far, more than double the next highest Google search term.

I'm thrilled to be paying nearly $4 a gallon for gas. Why, I can remember when gasoline was only 16 cents a gallon. Of course, the minimum wage then was only $1.00. I got in trouble at the radio station when I read the news item that the minimum wage was going up to $1.25 and commented that all the disc jockeys were getting a raise.

The dominant wild flower in Central Texas and the Coastal Plains this season is a bush with pale greenish-yellow blossoms. Acres and acres of them. Turns out that's a bad thing. The plant is Rapistrum rugosum, commonly known as (blush) Bastard Cabbage.It's a pernicious, invasive species that chokes the life out of a bed of bluebonnets and smaller wildflowers.

http://blogs.houstonpress.com/artattack/bastardcabbage.jpg

More than 23,000 people ran the Capitol 10K this past week; so many that the winners crossed the finish line before the last of the runners crossed the start.

Yesterday we concluded our church service by singing "The Lord Bless You and Keep You" with a rousing A Capella (of course) rendition of the seven-fold Amen. As we were leaving, Barb muttered, "Take that, Presbyterians!"

And I leave you with...