Russell Schulte wrangles his way through Calgary
As Texans, we’re about cowboys, cattle, and oil; it’s crucial we have the attitude of a bull and the pride of a rib-eye steak. Coincidentally, the same down-home bravado exists in Alberta, Canada and I was lucky enough to experience it first hand. Located in on the Canadian Rockies just north of Montana, the province is known for it large size, reliance on oil, plethora of cattle, and world-famous rodeo, just like Houston. With the Houston rodeo long gone and the heat of July setting in, I headed north to the world’s largest assembly of cowboys and cowgirls—the Calgary Stampede.
After a direct flight from Houston, I checked into the sumptuous Hotel Arts in the heart of the city. This boutique hotel is located downtown; it’s moments away from shopping, the theatre, and a bevy of restaurants. Our lavish room was decked-out with upscale furnishing, contemporary décor, 42˝ plasma screens, and an indulgent pillow-top mattress. Within walking distance to the Calgary Stampede, the hotel was the perfect home base for my wrangler adventures.
Like a tried and true Texan, my first quest was to find a warm, buttery, melt-in-my-mouth steak. Alberta has over 3 million head of cattle and is famous for high-quality beef. I decided on the highly recommended Vintage Chophouse and Tavern. During the short walk from the hotel to the restaurant, I couldn’t help but notice all the people in downtown Calgary sporting white cowboy hats; I felt right at home. Calgary not only has a Go Texan day, but the entire city dresses in western attire throughout the Stampede. There’s something special about eating a delicious steak surrounded by cowboy boots and cowboy hats while visiting our northern neighbor.
The next morning I scoured the city to find the hot spots Albertans go to get outfitted in official Canadian western attire. While the signature hat for the Calgary Stampede is a white Stetson made in Texas, my pick was the Canadian-made Smithbuilt hat—a fitting pick considering I was in Canada. Every mayor of Calgary has presented a Smithbuilt hat to visiting politicians, celebrities, and athletes since World War II. Donning my new hat, it was time for a fresh pair of cowboy boots. When looking for boots in Canada there is no better choice than the company tapped to outfit the Royal Canadian Mounted Police—The Alberta Boot Company. Their boots have graced the feet of royalty, movie stars, athletes, and now, this Texas cowboy.
Dressed in my new attire, I headed downtown where country music was echoing through the streets. I followed my ears to a live band playing at Buzzards Cowboy Cuisine, the perfect place to grab some grub. There was a hearty barbecue buffet, but the real cowboy treat was a spread of Rocky Mountain Oysters. It was Texas all over again when the crowd at Buzzards hit the dance floor for the two-step. I fit right in making my rounds among the friendly people of Calgary. Dance partners to do-si-do with were plentiful.
The next day started off with a free citywide breakfast of flapjacks and sausage. What’s more inviting and more Texan than free food? The entire city is invited to breakfasts held in various locations throughout the city. I looked around at the sponsors and noticed familiar oil companies with sites in Calgary and Houston. After breakfast, I hoped aboard a wagon drawn by a team of horses and headed to the main attraction, the Calgary Stampede.
Unlike the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, the Calgary Stampede is comprised of three events each day—a rodeo, a concert, and the chuckwagon races. Bob Tallman, the same announcer for Houston’s show, announced the rodeo. After the rodeo, the stadium is reconfigured for the Evening Show. The show begins with a rocking musical performance by The Young Canadians, a group of kids who work all year to put on musical theater performance. The show ends with a God-Bless-America-worthy fireworks display to usher in the main event of the Stampede, the chuckwagon races. The excitement of the chuckwagon races should be on every Texan’s to-do list. Riders saddle up on top of horses and race their wagons along a figure-eight track spanning longer than a mile. Yee-haw!
If you’re feeling post-rodeo depression after our Livestock Show and Rodeo is over, head to Calgary this summer. It’s the perfect place to escape Houston’s summer heat, gorge on a gorgeous steak, and fit right in with the cowboys. After all, what’s better than Texas? Nothing. But, the closet thing I’ve ever seen is the Calgary Stampede in Canada.
Destination DC: Shops, Sights, and Senators
The Top Ten Places to eat, drink and be merry in our nation’s capitol
Plus, contributor Warner Roberts visits DC for the USS George H. W. Bush commissioning
There is more to do in DC than snap shots of the White House and peruse the Lincoln Memorial. With infinite dining options and scores of museums, our nation’s capitol is brimming with exciting attractions. As former residents of the district, we’ve compiled a list of the city’s top ten visit-worthy destinations:
By Shyla Batliwalla and Leah Faye Cooper
1. Ben’s Chili Bowl
1213 U St. NW (202) 667-0909
DC’s favorite greasy spoon has been pleasing patrons like Martin Luther King, Jr., Bill Cosby, and President Barack Obama for over 50 years. Check your calorie-counting tendencies at the door and indulge in hot dogs, chili-cheese fries, and the city’s most beloved milkshakes.
2. Busboys & Poets
2021 14th St. NW (202) 387-POET
Listen to inspiring lectures, get lost in a book, or sip a glass of cabernet at Busboys. The all-in-one bookstore, restaurant, fair-trade market, theatre and community center is a favorite among locals. Take a break from touring the monuments and toil the day away engrossed in pizza and prose.
3. Eastern Market
225 7th St. SE
Conveniently located on “the Hill,” Eastern Market is a goldmine of fresh meats, cheeses, and produce. From green beans to Gouda, daily shipments of gourmet and organic foods have kept the foodie paradise open since 1873. Don’t miss the weekend flea market!
4. 18th Street Lounge
212 18th St. NW (202) 466-3922
The 18th Street Lounge stays true to its soulful roots with global tunes and luscious cocktails. Salsa on the roof deck or sip your caipirina by the grand windows overlooking the heart of the city.
5. The International Spy Museum
800 F St. NW (866) 799-6873
Brush up on all things espionage in one of the country’s most intriguing museums. Channel your inner Jack Bauer with documentaries based on famous spies, lessons on the trade, and a trip through a crawlspace. Whatever you do, be on your best behavior—you never know who’s watching.
6. Luna Grill
1301 Connecticut Ave. (202) 835-2280
Those who adore brunch and delicious home-style cooking will love Luna Grill to your list of places to try. Their corned-beef Ruben with sweet potato fries will warm your heart and fill your belly. The unpretentious crowd equally vibrant décor are bursting with energy.
1528 U St. NW (202) 667-6955
Named for the owner’s grandmother, Nana houses unbearably chic clothes from uncommon designers. Whether you are looking for a Hobo bag, summer frock, or irresistible scented hand soap, the delightful staff will lead you to some fabulous finds.
8. The National Portrait Gallery
4100 Ninth St. NW (202) 633-8300
For an offbeat glimpse of American history, add the Portrait Gallery to your itinerary. Veiled in one of the grandest buildings in the city are images of prominent Americans from Abraham Lincoln to Michael Jackson. The iconic “Hope” painting of President Obama was recently moved here.
9. Old Ebbitt Grill
675 15th St. NW (202) 347-4800
Politicians, journalists, and ambassadors convene here for hefty doses of oysters served with sides of DC history. Established in 1857, Washington’s oldest saloon was a favorite of Presidents Grant and Roosevelt. Our votes go to the Hot Steak Salad and Bourbon Walnut Pie.
10. Screen on the Green
900 Ohio Drive SW (202) 426-6841
Watch classic movies on a Texas-sized screen with the capitol building as your backdrop. Bring a blanket and your buddies Monday evenings all summer long to the National Mall. It’s an idyllic way to spend a balmy evening.
All Aboard: The USS George H. W. Bush
By Warner Roberts
What would it be like to have a 100,0000 ton, $6 billion aircraft carrier named after you? Former President George Herbert Walker Bush could tell you.
On January 10, 2009, the world’s largest nuclear aircraft carrier—The USS George H. W. Bush was commissioned at Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia. The man of the hour celebrated the tribute with family, political leaders, and thousands of invited guests; he became the first person to attend the commissioning of an aircraft carrier named in their honor.
During the ceremony Barbara Bush joked, “this is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to George … bigger than our wedding!” Literally and figuratively Mrs. Bush was correct—the aircraft carrier spans longer than four football fields. Crewmembers call the carrier “The Bush.” Its motto, “Freedom at Work,” derives from the former presidents affirmation, “We know what works: Freedom works. We know what’s right: Freedom is right,” in his inaugural address.
“This is the culmination of my life,” the Former President said, admittedly holding back tears.
Numerous prominent Houstonians were present to join in the commemoration:
Hushang and Shahla Ansary
Archie and Linda Dunham
David and Pat Jones
Drayton and Elizabeth McLane
Charles and Sally Neblett
Marvin and Mariloli Odum
Diana Untermeyer and daughter Ellie
Gene and Astrid Van Dyke
The honoree’s son, President George W. Bush, opened his remarks by saying, “Laura and I are thrilled to help commission this awesome ship and to honor an awesome man.” He received laughs from the crowd when quoting a letter his father wrote many years ago. “You should see Georgie now. When I come home he talks a blue streak—sentences disjointed, of course. He tries to say everything and the results are often hilarious.” After a brief pause, the former president joked, “Some things do not change.” He went on to say he and his siblings feel blessed to have the “the best father anyone could ask for,” and will always carry his lesson “that integrity and honor are worth more than any title or treasure.”
George H. W. Bush has the love of his family, admiration of friends, and gratitude of a nation. What do you give a man who seemingly has it all? Well, an aircraft carrier.
By Leah Faye Cooper
Every month, we write checks to insurance companies “just in case” – just in case we get in a car accident on the way to work, or set the house ablaze while frying the Thanksgiving turkey. And though some of us amped up our insurance policies after Hurricane Katrina, the thought of ever really needing our insurance wasn’t we lost sleep over. Fast forward to post Hurricane Ike, and losing sleep is the least of our worries – it’s the loss of roofs, cars and other possessions that have us troubled. But thankfully, we’re covered. Here’s where those monthly payments come to our rescue, right? Not necessarily. For many of us, recovering what we lost in the storm is less promising than PETA hosting a dinner at Vic&Anthonys. We thought we could turn to our insurance agency; instead, we’re turning to the law.
“A lot of companies are trying to avoid responsibility and aren’t honoring the terms of their policies,” Houston attorney Michael Josephson says. “They’re shortchanging customers left and right when it comes to paying for house repairs or compensating them for lost or damaged personal property. Lawyers see this on a regular basis, but it’s not something the everyday homeowner thinks about until it affects them.”
The Texas Windstorm Insurance Association (TWIA), the state’s insurer of last resort, has been a go-to group for homeowners who can’t find adequate coverage elsewhere. However, shortly after Ike hit, TWIA announced they wouldn’t pay for storm surge damage; they consider surges floods. Most insurance companies follow similar policies, leaving homeowners waist deep in distress.
“People assume they just have to make a claim and they’ll automatically get their money, but that’s rarely the case,” Josephson says. Flooding is extremely damaging and rarely covered by insurance policies.
All insurance companies must abide by the Texas Insurance Code, a set of guidelines that help ensure fair insurance practices. Though many individuals try to pursue their claim alone, it’s advisable to hire a lawyer at the first sign of wrongdoing on behalf of an insurance company. The sooner you get legal advice under the Insurance Code, the better chance you have of getting fair and faster treatment from your insurer. Lawyers who specialize in settling insurance claims are well versed in the code and will likely recognize infractions you’re unaware of.
An insurance company should take legal action very seriously and in some instances, will present your case to multiple claims adjusters hoping to resolve the issue without going to court.
According to State Farm spokesperson Kevin Davis, the insurance company has handled over 102,000 claims from Hurricane Ike and paid out over $900 million to date. “Every claim is different so some require more attention than others,” Davis says, “but our goal is always to help our policyholders recover their losses – especially after something like Hurricane Ike. The Texas Department of Insurance tracks policyholders’ complaints and deems whether or not they’re justified. Of the thousands of complaints against State Farm, only 37 have been labeled justified and the company has extensively addressed each one.
Conversely, some companies often have a vested interest in dragging out the process, even if they know they’ll eventually have to pay a claim.
“They’ll postpone making payments for as long as possible because they lose money when they have to answer these claims,” Josephson says. “The longer it takes to resolve the dispute, the more time they have to come up with the money they owe.” In addition, some companies anticipate individuals will become increasingly frustrated and simply give up.
While there are many situations when a lawyer can help strengthen your claim, in some instances, insurance companies are well within their rights to refuse it, or compensate you for less than you anticipated. Homeowners should also be aware of rising deductibles. After filing claims for damage accrued from Ike, many homeowners were shocked to find that unbeknownst them, their deductibles had recently increased. Still, there is no harm in contacting a lawyer. If your agent didn’t sell you the right insurance or evaluate your needs and risks properly, they may be liable for covering part or all of your losses. “There are times when people will go to a lawyer with a claim that isn’t covered by their policy, but they can usually get some assistance, whether it’s guidance through the claims process, or closure to months of battling with an insurance company.”
The HOUSTON POST—the newspaper’s old home at the Southwest Freeway and the West Loop is still standing strong—a magnificent structure from the outside. But inside the front towers, all the interior walls are gone. There are only naked concrete ceilings and concrete floors (something about asbestos), torn window blinds and large air pipes stacked about, an echoing hangar covered with dust. The printing presses still run, printing the current owners product, the Houston Chronicle. But if I close my eyes and open my memory I can still see it as it was. This is the third floor, the city room, where inked-stained wretches hammered away at their typewriters (and later computers) delivering only truth, beauty, and their own biases to Houston. Photographers raced in and out, TV sets flickered, and phones rang among busy people on deadlines. The life of a newspaper city room has often been portrayed in movies and on TV as a tense, exciting, meaningful place. It was really much better than that. Here in the front northeast section was my office and the rest of the editorial/opinion section, a newspaper’s heart and soul, though many detractors called us other parts of the anatomy. This is where I worked from 1985, when the Canadians bought the paper, until the end in 1995. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could view my domain of billboards from the east to the west. The high and mighty came through our conference room to explain that we were a bunch of commie idiots and, by the way, would we please endorse them in the next election? The ed/op staffs’ desks were always piled high with reading stuff; they read everything, and were unquestionably the brightest minds in Houston. Now the desks are gone. So is my lovely office—the Canadians spared no expense. The change in office decorations began for me on the morning of April 18, 1995, when I arrived tardy to an emergency executive meeting and found the Post out of business. Armed guards watched over the staff as we vacated the building with our belongings. We were warned that guards were also at the Houston Chronicle, so don’t go there looking for jobs. An article in the next day’s Chron gave the same warning, but didn’t mention the guards. A few days later I went back to the paper to see if I could sift through the mail and pick up my letters, including a check for $1,400. I was not let through the door. Ever since the folding, it’s been rumored the Post went bankrupt. Unless our owner, Dean Singleton, was cooking the books, we had made $10 million the year before and posted a profit 12 of the 15 preceding months. We didn’t have to close. So Hearst, the Chronicle’s New York-based owner, has always been careful to say it bought the “assets” of The Post. To have purchased the competition and closed it might have raised questions with the Justice Department. A lot of newspapers run a last edition, their own obit, when they cease operations whereby the staff bids farewell to its readers. Singleton said such a gesture would be “useless.” At its demise, The Post was 111 years old, but we traced our heritage back to the 1830s and the Telegraph and Texas Register in San Felipe. In our library I could read old microfilm copies of the paper’s news, ads, and legal notices sprinkled with names like James Bonham, Stephen F. Austin, and William Barrett Travis, who wrote a letter to the editor ending with, “God and Texas—Victory or Death!!” The paper ran the Texas Declaration of Independence, news of the fall of the Alamo, and reported Col. William Fannin and his men were ready to face Santa Anna at Goliad. As Sam Houston’s army passed through San Felipe just ahead of Santa Anna’s army, the publishers, Gail and Thomas Borden, loaded their presses on ox carts, joined the retreat and eventually had to dump them into Buffalo Bayou. The April 14th issue of the paper was still inside the presses when it was dumped. The move caused the Bordens to miss reporting on the Battle of San Jacinto one week later. Over the years the paper ran the good, the bad, and the Pulitzer. (The Chronicle remains the largest-circulation newspaper in America never to have won a Pulitzer; but it hired a winner, cartoonist Nick Anderson.) Like so many newspapers, the Post went through owners, names, and failures. It was variously called the Houston Post-Dispatch, the Daily Post, and the Houston Chronicle. One owner, Rienzi Johnston, went by the title “Colonel” although it seems he never got higher than drummer boy in the Confederate Army. When another owner, Julius Watson, died at the age of 38 of tuberculosis, he left the paper to his six-year-old son, Roy. A.C. Green lost the paper and turned the assets over to the employees only to see it fail completely in 1880. By then, 16 Houston papers had already been financial failures. Managing editor Marcellus E. Foster had a falling out with the publisher and resigned. He started the Houston Chronicle in 1901. William and Oveta Hobby were running the Post before they bought the paper in 1939 from Jesse Jones, who also owned the Chronicle. Jones thought it wrong for both major newspapers to be under one owner. Post columnist William Sydney Porter eventually went to prison and there changed his name to O. Henry. Then there was William Cowper Brann, who later wrote, “In the year of our Lord, 1891, I became pregnant with an idea. Being at the time chief editorial writer on the Houston Post, I felt dreadfully mortified, as nothing of the kind had ever before occurred in that eminently moral establishment.” An irate reader shot Brann dead in Waco. Walter Cronkite got his start as the Post’s correspondent at The University of Texas, and for years the Post had a paperboy in Alvin who could plop the paper right on the doorstep—Nolan Ryan. But there is a footnote to this story: Several years after the demise of the paper, an organization came to me and asked if I’d like to be its executive director. Sounded interesting, but then the water boarding began. I sat through an intense, two-hour interview with the entire board of directors, then was asked to write a lengthy essay so a handwriting expert could check my warped and possibly lethal inner being. Afterwards, I heard nothing. Since they had approached me, I called to inquire. “Sorry. We hired someone else.” OK, no big deal, although it was a rather strange way to operate. End of story, until last year at a gathering, a gentleman introduced himself and noted he had been on that interview panel. “After that meeting, we got a call from the Hearst people,” he said. “They warned if we hired you, they’d never give us another dime.” As he walked away, he turned and said, “Come to think of it, they still didn’t give us any money.” Today, the Post is no more, only a collection of dusty concrete and departed souls. Houston is left with the sound of only one tongue flapping.