By Lynn Ashby 24 April 2017
THE JUNGLE – Trees and bushes so thick you couldn’t walk through them, with high grass in other places. They are on each side of Buffalo Speedway as it turns into Willowbend just south of Loop 610 South. Ah, but the grandiose plans to turn this chunk of Houston into a campus of sparkling glass buildings housing Nobel laureates testing their test tubes, while others think deep thoughts and slowly, thoughtfully, walk through the halls of ivy (or probably kudzu), to suddenly stop, cry, “Eureka!” and race back to their labs to, uh, do something. Whatever. Maybe a new thingamabob. But few of us know what that Eureka is all about, which is why this development is not being developed.
In case you just got out of the ER after flying United, a brief background. In 2015, with no warning shot, UT Chancellor Bill (Bye-bye bin Laden) McRaven announced that the UT System was buying 332 acres of land, equidistant between the Texas Medical Center and the main UH campus, for about $450 million over the next 30 years. This would be its largest land purchase in recent history, with money borrowed from the Permanent University Fund. UH was aghast about this invasion of Longhorns into Cougar territory. Already bloodied by its long-running feud with the South Texas School of Law over naming rights, and its hemorrhaging of head football coaches, UH lined up alumni, lawyers and lawmakers to fight the project. With growing opposition in Houston, questions about financing at a time the Legislature is cutting funds for higher education, the mysterious purpose of the project, and after Gov. Greg Abbott (UT ’81) named new UT regents who opposed the deal, quoth McRaven: “Nevermore.” He tossed in the trowel.
And that was that, sort of. Then white (and otherwise) knights suddenly came to help. Not scientists, deep thinkers and Nobel laureates trying to get out of Cambridge and Palo Alto, but an even more fearsome foe: Houston developers. A just-released report from an advisory group of Houston civic and business leaders figured a vast development like the proposed UT think tank would spur growth in the area: new houses for highly paid PhDs, dorms, upscale shopping centers and – ta-da! – money.
So the battle is not over, and all the old arguments will be dusted off, like “the dump.” The chancellor acknowledged to state lawmakers in a letter that much of the Houston land was an abandoned oil field and a few of the acres are polluted by a former polymer facility on the site. But supporters say that is no problem. (If the projected campus really gets started, perhaps the first structure could be the Toxic Dump Lab, which would work to decontaminate the rest of the acreage.)
There is the question of what to call the place. UT already has a huge footprint in Houston, what with the UT Health Science Center, medical school, dental school, nursing school, M.D. Anderson plus 100,000 alumni (more than any other university). So do we follow the pattern of other branches (UTEP, UTSA, etc.) and call it The University of Texas at Houston, or UTAH? Would the Mormons object? School nickname? The Think Tankers. School song? It has been said that an intellectual in Texas is someone who can listen to the “William Tell Overture” and not think of the Lone Ranger. So how about the students stand and sing: “To the dump, to the dump, to the dump, dump, dump.” But the biggest blockade of all is that McRaven has never been clear as to why it should be built at all. He referred to the project as an “intellectual hub.” Huh? At other times the goals of education, science and other stuff have been mentioned, and perhaps finding the Longhorns a decent quarterback.
But the buzz word that finally was touted was Big Data. I first figured they were talking about the Burl Ives role in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” Big Daddy. No, Big Data, or BD as we laureates call it, means, uh, something smart and important. Maybe Big Data is literally that: lots of very large information such as billboards, advertising signs in Minute Maid Park and tattoos on fat people. And it must be very important: When the proposed project was still alive, Eric Schmidt, the executive chairman of Google’s parent company, Alphabet, was quoted as saying: “Big Data is the oil wealth of the 21st Century. Texas needs to invest in Big Data, and I am excited that the University of Texas System is leading the way. I can think of no better place to start this initiative than Houston.”
But if the project is still possible, in order to drum up popular support, backers need to be specific. BD must solve problems and answer questions we can relate to. A few suggestions: Do you ever wonder why more and more people are backing into parking places? Isn’t it easier to just drive into the parking slot and back out, instead of trying to back in, maneuvering between two SUVs the size of school buses? Why, in the middle of a sunny day, do people drive around with their headlights on? Do they not know where they are going? Houston needs a good nickname and slogan. Bayou City, H Town, Houston’s Hot and Space City just didn’t catch on like Big D, the Windy City and Deer Park – Gateway to Pasadena. Not far from this jungle is another large area. Find out whatever happened to that massive project that was going to replace AstroWorld. We tore down a perfectly good amusement park for what? Scientists, go to your labs and discover a cure for unruly children in restaurants. Finally, find out what Big Data means, so we can pay for it. OK, we have now put BD on the road to success. As for objections from UH to the UT expansion, just decide it with a football game.
Ashby solutions at email@example.com
THE COMPUTER — “Dear User, Your account has expired, you must renew or your account will be de-activated. Click Here To Renew.” And: “We have detected that your account may have been accessed by an unauthorized individual. As a safety measure to restrict this threat, you are to upgrade your email. Click Here To Re-activate.” “There is trying from suspicious devices to login your account.Your (no space) account has been Stopped. Please reactivate your account Now.” These warnings emailed to me daily are urgent messages from my cable company, Disable Cable, except they aren’t. They are simply a ploy to hook me on a scam to get my secret codes. For some time I have been receiving such come-ons, but they have been increasing. Perhaps you are having the same problem: You sit down at your computer to write an email to your bondsman, or maybe a ransom note, and up come assorted emails from unknown, or fake, entities. You have to go through them however briefly in case some may be genuine – your mother’s nursing home really did burn down and you should come get her.
Then there are the banks, or maybe not: “Your account has expired. You are advice (sic) to Re-Activate or your account will be de-activated.” “During a recent review, we identified activity on your account that may be related to fraudulent usage and need you to verify this activity as soon as possible. You must review this activity immediately by clicking on the secure link below.” A new twist: “Wells Fargo invites you to participate in a short survey to provide feedback regarding your recent visit to a Wells Fargo branch.” A bank in that hotbed of international finance, San Angelo, Texas, has $12 million due me. I receive many alarms about “suspicious activities” from banks I never used or, in some cases, never even heard of, but they want me to re-register. It’s good to know that, if I ever do business with them, they will keep a close eye on my account, and drain it dry.
What we (I assume you are getting the same scams) have here is some 16-year-old in Croatia, in his parents’ basement at midnight, churning out these fake requests. A major point: he must be getting good feedback or he wouldn’t keep doing it. Then again, maybe business is slow after the Russians no longer needed so many anti-Hillary and pro-Trump fake news bulletins. Remember the No Call Law passed by Congress a few years ago? One member said it was the most popular bill ever passed by that body – they received 40 million immediate signees. (Come to think of it, that law must be crumbling around the edges, because I am now getting solicitation phone calls.) Well, by the same token to shield me from all these unwanted cons, I have a “Block Sender” line on my computer. It doesn’t work. Somehow that 16-year-old is getting around the shield. Maybe “Block Sender” means that I have been designated my block’s sender.
Here’s a slightly different bait: “Dear friend, I know this letter will definitely come to you as a huge surprise. I am Capt. Henk Thomas. Please I need your urgent assistance. Contact me via my private email for more information. Respectfully, Capt. Henk Thomas United States Marine Corps. Syria.” That’s a pretty vague address, “Henk.” Another strange one: “I got your information online for dance classes. I’m organizing a surprise dance (like flashmob) for my daughter’s wedding, So i (sic) want you to teach the Bridesmaids choreography. Let me know if you can do this? i will also need the below information from you.” I suspect the “below information” includes my address, password to the burglar alarm system, where I keep the family jewels and when I’ll take my next vacation. OK, I don’t immediately see the con with dancing lessons, but there’s got to be one. Maybe he is checking out home safes, and is vault-zing across Texas.
At this point I must wonder, as do you: how did our names get on these suckers’ lists? Somewhere along the line I must have ordered a pet aardvark, or entered a Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes. No, my name popped up on the One Born Every Minute list because that Nigerian prince probably lost my address and I never got my share of the $40 million he had in a London bank. Then there those emails which are not scams, apparently, but just sent to the wrong guy, “Dear CEO, At present we want to purchase a batch of Diapers(For the elderly,children).” This guy’s keyboard must not have a space bar. I also got a proposal to sell me manhole covers. Honest.
Each day I find emails from China (perhaps by way of Croatia): “dear sir/madam, first, let me introduce our company for you. we are china import & export trading co., we need to purchase from your company log cabin (120 sets) from your company.” I do sport some Lincolnesque traits, but no longer build log cabins. One more: “Dear CEO: Wish have a nice day!” This last one is a killer: “The CEO of respect; Our company and the school have invested in three football training schools to train football talents for China. Now we need to invite nine qualified foreign football coach, to China for our comprehensive football training.” Would it be politically incorrect to suggest they check with the coaches at Rice?
My question was answered when I received this: “I obtained your name and address from the international business internet. Now, we are writing to you to hope establish business relations with you.” That explains everything. My name appeared in the CEOs of the Fortune 500 or maybe the Forbes World’s Billionaires list. I was spotted at Davos having drinks with Bill Gates, Warren Buffett and the petroleum minister from Saudi Arabia. Next time I’ll register as a Nigerian prince.
Ashby have nice day at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Lynn Ashby 10 April 2017
THE ALAMO PLAZA – A man is shouting “Praise Jesus!” as he walks in circles. Nearby are a Haagen-Dazs shop, two Ripley’s Believe It or Not stores, a wax museum, a mirror maze and lots of traffic. This is what some 2-million visitors a year see. We are here because this is the period between the fall of the Alamo, March 6, and the Battle of San Jacinto, April 21, Texas’ High Holy Days. It’s a good time to see what’s happening, for there are plans – repeat, plans – to change the look of the Alamo and its surroundings. Let’s hope so, since this neighborhood has been through some tough times, and not just bodies scattered all over the place. We can run through the first part: the Alamo was built in 1724. Later, Spanish troops occupied the mission and its surrounding buildings — the church was only part of the grounds – then Mexicans forces. By 1836, the place was abandoned, until Lt. Col William B. Travis was sent here by Gen. Sam Houston to destroy the Alamo and march east.
This brings us to March of 1836. When John Wayne (or Billy Bob Thornton, depending on which version of the movie you saw) and 181 other defenders were killed here, Francisco Antonio Ruiz, the Alcalde of San Antonio, was summoned by Gen. Santa Anna: “He directed me to call upon some of the neighbors to come with carts to carry the dead to the cemetery, and also to accompany him, as he was desirous to have Colonels Travis, Bowie and Crockett shown to him.” Ruiz reports: Travis was shot through the head, Bowie was killed in his bed, and so much for the version of Crockett surrendering to the generalissimo.
In 1846, after the U.S. annexed Texas, Edward Everett, a U.S. Army sergeant and company clerk, wrote: “The church seemed to have been the last stronghold, and amidst the debris of its stone roof, when subsequently cleared away, were found parts of skeletons, copper balls, and other articles, mementos of the siege; as were the numerous shot holes in the front…” He went on to condemn the “tasteless hands,” “the wanton destruction” by “other relic hunters or other vandals and iconoclasts.” The army used the church as a warehouse. Then the mission property was sold, much was torn down for commercial development, and by 1871 only 30 percent of the original structures was left. In the 1880s a visitor wrote how he felt “amazement and disgust upon my first visit to the old church…filled with sacks of salt, stinking potatoes, odorous kerosene, and dirty groceries.”
Daughters of the Republic of Texas (my mother was a member of the DRT, but she refused to say which side she fought on) bought the Alamo in 1905, and apparently ran it rather well until 2011 when the state took it over, although I was never sure why. For years visitors from around the world have been complaining about how Texas tacky this area is, right in the middle of downtown San Antonio. (This reminds me, have you ever noticed how many Civil War battles were fought in national parks?) There has long been talk of restoring or improving the Alamo Plaza, but it’s been all hat and no cattle.
But now San Antonio is linked with the state and feds to finally do something. A blue ribbon committee – what else? — was formed and the Plaza Project got underway. There are plans, drawings, committee meetings, and that’s about all. Money is a problem, and opponents don’t like closing off streets and tearing down buildings. (Please, no more “Second Battle of the Alamo.” It’s been used to death.) One major obstacle is that the six-story 1936 Post Office and Federal Building, which recently underwent a $56 million renovation, occupies a big chunk of the mission’s former land. It is hoped the feds will turn over the building to be converted into a museum, and it is noted the FBI has already left because the structure doesn’t pass new Homeland Security, uh, security. But the building is sitting right on a most important part of the battlefield: the north wall. I think they ought to level the building and restore the wall – and everything else.
Incidentally, there is an odd link between the Alamo and musicians. A drunken Ozzy Osbourne urinated on the Alamo Cenotaph, a 60-foot high statue erected in 1939 in the Alamo Plaza, in mid-day of Feb. 19, 1982. The story got changed to him peeing on the mission itself. Only, “It’s just not true,” a guide at the Alamo told the Boston Herald in 2003. “If he had, the police wouldn’t have arrested him. They would have beaten him to within an inch of his life.” Osbourne was banned from playing San Antonio again until 1992, when he made a public apology to the city and donated $10,000 to the DRT. British rock star Phil Collins has one of the world’s best private collections of Alamo memorabilia, which he has donated. He has so much good stuff that a separate pavilion is being considered to house it. Another British rock star changed his name from David Robert Jones to David Bowie because of the knife, not the man.
Meanwhile, don’t hold your breath until the Alamo Project is complete. As mentioned, the task of restoring the Alamo Plaza has been suggested and abandoned over the past 30 years. The city convened groups to study the plaza in 1988 and 1994. In 2011 it even hired a New York company to recommend ways to increase the plaza’s appeal to locals. Perhaps the Texas Legislature could help if we tell the lawmakers there will not be transgender bathrooms. As for the cost of the project, it started at $37 million, has hit $300 million and shows no sign of slowing down. Maybe, like Trump’s wall, we can get the Mexican government to pay for it.
Ashby remembers at email@example.com
THE FRONT DOOR – It’s a dark and gloomy night, yet someone is knocking on my door. I open it and there stands a guy in a trench coat, collar turned up, Fedora pulled down low, dark glasses. “The dog waddles in the cumquat,” he whispers. Huh? “Ossie brings bacon from the lug nut.” I start to close the door. “Wait,” he whispers. “Is this 123 Toxic Pit Drive?” I shake my head. “That’s across the street, the Billy Bob Bin Laden house.” He frowns. “Sorry, my mistake, but now you know too much about Deep State. I’ll have to kill you.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a stapler. “Oops, wrong pocket.”
I slam the door and return to the den to resume my reading. “White House blames Deep State for leaks.” That’s interesting. “Congress is helpless before Deep State.” Odd, that’s the term that guy at the door was using. Later I turn on Fox News. “Obama is still in control, because of Deep State,” says a panelist, both arms secured in a straitjacket.
As your intrepid reporter, it is my duty to find out just who, or what, this new term means. I go to the Democratic National Committee Building, formerly the Debbie Wasserman-Schultz Underpass. “Deep State is everywhere, but you can’t see it, and that’s all I can tell you. Say, do you think this conversation is being recorded?” That was not much help, so I go to the Republican National Committee Bunker. “Halt!” shouts a guard from his watchtower. “What’s the password?” I think for a moment: “Locker room talk,” I reply. He lets down the drawbridge and I enter the offices of He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken, but he looks a lot like Stephen Bannon. He checks to see if I’m wired, especially my teeth. “What is deep state?” I ask. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Deep State – incidentally, slime ball journalist and son of a coyote, you didn’t capitalize the name – is all that stands between America and utter chaos that would give us a crazed leader who tells lies, changes his policies and says he didn’t, hires his relatives and insults our allies.”
“Wow, we couldn’t survive that,” I reply. At that point I am tossed out. Thus far I am getting nowhere, so my next stop is my political guru, Margin d’Error, who predicted that Hillary would win. “You really messed up on that one,” I say by phone as he looks through the glass. He replies, “I was right by almost 3 million votes. I forgot about the Electoral College. You wrote me about Deep State. It means a shadow government within a government, like they have in Pakistan where the military and the secret police actually run the country. Egypt and Iran have it, too.” Margin looks furtively around, and continues: “Here in America, there is no such thing, but that doesn’t keep the paranoid alt-rights and kooks from spreading it about, like our Ego-in-Chief. Donald Trump believes we have a Deep State and it’s the former Obama administration. Poor guy, in a world of tuxes, he’s a pair of brown shoes, but there still are those who want to spread false news and prevent people like me from telling the truth. Even here….” Before I can ask him another question, a guard slaps tape over Margin’s mouth, puts a bag over his head, and hustles him away.
Reading the reliable Breitbart News, I discover the real reason Barack Obama and his family stayed in Washington after his last term expired: His code name is Hacker Backer, and he and his people still control the federal government while posing as Wall Street billionaires. Maybe so, because I noticed, despite the changes in administrations and wholesale firings in the federal government, my mailman is the same person. Wonder if he is reading my Hustler looking for hidden codes? Later, watching TV, there is Kellyanne Conway explaining that Trump is being sabotaged by Deep State, holdovers from the Obama administration. She also claims that the President is above both the law and the Constitution. When the interviewer begs to differ, Conway notes she is simply citing indisputable “alternative facts.”
At 3:30 a.m. I receive a Tweet. “You have been digging into the President’s administration. Who are you really working for? I’ll set you straight, and it’s HUGE! Meet me at the next meeting of the West Wing, aka Paranoids Unanimous, and watch out for the black helicopters. # Tax Dodger.” I show up at the meeting and see a man wearing an orange wig and a spray-on tan. He leads me aside. “You can’t be too careful. Now, let me explain that what some shrinks call ‘extreme narcissism, secretiveness and delusions of mediocrity’ are simply the art of the deal, which I read. First, there really were five million illegal aliens voting in the election to give Hillary the popular vote. They were disguised as Hillary voters. My inauguration audience was a record 100 million, but Obama’s people doctored the aerial photographs. As for releasing my federal income tax returns, I will as soon as Deep State lets George Washington release his. And I have no conflict of interests in being both President and a world-wide business mogul. I’m interested in them all.”
I reply, “There are rumors that the Russians were behind your election, they have infiltrated your staff and have information to blackmail you.” Tax Dodger laughs. “That’s ridiculous, and you can ask the head of Russia. I call him Pootie.”
It’s late at night and I am back in my home, having nothing to show for my work. There’s a knock at the door. I open it. “Pootie says the mud flaps are made of tangerines.” I start to slam the door. “Wait. I have something for you.” He hands me a package. “What is it?” I ask. He replies: “George Washington’s tax returns.”
Ashby is hacked at firstname.lastname@example.org
Play ball! Yes, the baseball season is upon us once more. The Lone Star grudge match between Dallas and Houston was always a good one, and when the Fort Worth Cats took on the Dallas Eagles, after seven or so innings and as many beers, there were fist fights in the stands. For you youngsters and newcomers, Texas baseball in air-conditioned stadiums with huge scoreboards and suites with bars and toilets are a relative new way of seeing and playing America’s game. I am talking about the Texas League which, along with Southwest Conference football games, united and divided the state like nothing since the Civil War (or the War for Southern Independence as my grandmother called the Late Unpleasantness).
But whatever happened to the old Texas League? Actually, it is still going strong, packing in fans. Since its founding in 1888 as the Texas State Baseball League, this organization has become one of the most colorful and historic minor leagues in America. And the bat goes on. Today on summer evenings in their field of dreams, young men on their way up to the Bigs, play ball.
The players compete in 140 games, about 20 shy of what the major league teams play. Each Texas League team is affiliated with a major league team which pays the players’ salaries, about $1,800 a month during the season, along with the salaries of the coaches, managers and trainers, plus some costs for the equipment. In turn, the teams send part of their gate receipts to Major League Baseball. This financial arrangement allows for one of the great bargains in professional sports. Ticket prices in most of the league’s stadiums go for about $10 to $20 with general admission as low as $2, and parking is usually free.
The Texas League is Class AA, a level that many in player development consider the make or break level of the minor leagues. If a player performs well in the Texas League, he has a fair chance to play, some day, in the major leagues. Then there are the stadiums. Build it and they will score runs. In Class AA, there must be at least 6,000 seats in each stadium. (Corpus Christi’s Whataburger Field was named by USA Today among the top 10 minor league parks in the nation.) Many of the league’s parks also feature grassy knolls beyond the outfield where families can spread out a blanket and lie down to watch the games.
Over its 129 years, the host towns have changed with just the San Antonio Missions hanging in there from the beginning. Today the league is divided into North and South. The northern bunch is made up of the Springfield, Missouri, Cardinals, Northwest Arkansas Naturals (I guess they liked the movie), Arkansas Travelers and Tulsa Drillers. The south consists of the Corpus Christi Hooks, San Antonio Missions, Midland RockHounds and Frisco RoughRiders. (Last season the RoughRiders adopted a Teddy Roosevelt-style uniform – bully for them.) Through the first century of the circuit’s operation, 38 cities in eight states hosted Texas League teams. And including other leagues, in Texas alone, 101 cities — more than in any other state — have supported minor league franchises. (Incidentally, the Sugar Land Skeeters are in the independent Atlantic League. Those teams are concentrated on the East Coast, except for Sugar Land.) Towns and cities that have fielded Texas League teams range alphabetically from Albuquerque to Wichita Falls, geographically from Kansas to the Rio Grande Valley, but they have always kept the same league name, maybe because it is one of the oldest minor leagues in the nation. By 1994 only three Texas cities, San Antonio, El Paso, and Midland, were part of the eight-team league, and there have been only 15 years in which the Texas League has had an exclusively Texan makeup throughout the season.
I love some of their names: the Ardmore Territorians (this was in 1904 — Oklahoma didn’t become a state until 1907), Dallas Hams, Houston Babies. Longview Cannibals, Paris Parisians, Sherman Orphans, Temple Boll Weevils and Texarkana Casket Makers. A side note about a former member of the Texas League which moved up to AAA, the Round Rock Express. Nolan Ryan was pitching for the Houston Astros, and sport writers, always looking for a stale nickname (Little Miss Baby Cakes, Pinstripes, Hammer of Thor) fiddled with the name “Ryan.” Ryan’s Daughter didn’t work, but Houston novelist David Westheimer had written a thriller book, “Von Ryan’s Express,” so Nolan (Lynn) Ryan became Ryan’s Express or just the Express. When he got involved, businesswise, with the Round Rock minor league team, the name followed. Good thing Westheimer didn’t write “Ryan’s Casket Makers.”
In 1930 Katy Park in Waco became one of the first stadiums in organized baseball to install lights for night games. When Fort Worth’s LaGrave Field was rebuilt in 1950 following a fire, it was the first new baseball park to include a television booth. Over the years, fans witnessed players such as Tris Speaker, Hank Greenberg, “Dizzy” Dean, Duke Snider, Frank Robinson and Brooks Robinson. One player, Homer Rainey, became president of The University of Texas. John Alton “Al” Benton, later, in the majors, gave up home runs to both Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle. Johnny Berardino, San Antonio’s second-baseman in 1938, later starred as Dr. Hardy on General Hospital. Earlier, as a child actor, he appeared in several episodes of Our Gang. More recently there were stars like Fernando Valenzuela, Orel Hershiser, Joe Morgan and Darryl Strawberry. The Astros’ dugout was a Texas League reunion with Lance Berkman, Roy Oswalt and Brad Lidge.
Finally, a hit ball that drops safely between the infield and the outfield for a single is called a “Texas Leaguer,” or used to be. We don’t hear that term much anymore. But maybe we will if Field of Dreams ever comes to town and the Cats and the Eagles go at it again.
Ashby plays ball at email@example.com
By Lynn Ashby 13 March 2017
TEXAS, THE RANKEST STATE
Texas, our Texas, all hail the not-so-mighty state that, compared to the other 49 dwarfs, is strictly mediocre to awful. We rank 30th in health care, near the bottom in opportunity. Who says so? US News & World Reports or USNWR, that’s who. It’s the magazine which annually rates universities. The winners say they deserve it. Those schools down the list say the rankings are meaningless. So let’s say these new state rankings – the first such comparisons by the magazine — are meaningless. How did USNWR come to these silly conclusions? It evaluated all 50 states across a range of criteria, from education to infrastructure and economy, then drew on thousands of data points to capture how states best serve their citizens. So this is not a survey of us, the citizens, but of how our state government serves us. And to think, our Legislature is currently all knotted up over transgenders in school bathrooms.
Which state ranks which No. 1 overall in the Best States rankings and who is No. 50? Well, Texans used to say, “Thank God for Mississippi,” because, otherwise, we would occupy the basement in any favorable comparisons. Now it’s Louisiana, which is 45 or 46 in almost all categories. But let’s get to us. Texas is 41in education. I lay the blame on several factors: We don’t spend enough on our schools, students and teachers. Indeed, the Legislature even now is figuring out how to reduce our education budget. Meanwhile, we spend tens of millions of dollars on football stadiums. Texas is attempting to educate up to 86,000 Dreamers from south of the border, most of whom don’t speak English. They will drag down any SAT scores. The State Board of Education is a miserable example of inmates running the asylum. No, global warming is not a hoax. Houston was not originally named Hughes Town in honor of native son Howard. And let’s stop debating whether Jesus was a Christian.
Next comes health care. We get a 30. Why so low? Because our state officials knowingly and willingly turn their collective backs on Medicare programs, thus sending billions of our tax dollars to other states to treat their citizens. Does this make sense? No wonder Texas has the highest number of unvaccinated children in America and is last in children with health insurance, and no wonder Houston has the largest medical center on Earth. We have the most sick people.
Crime and corrections. Texas has long had a lock ‘em up philosophy on crime, which accounts for the 172,000 Texans we hold behind bars, by far the most of any state. And in most years we lead the nation in executions. So in the crime and corrections category we rank 31 among the states. Not much more to say about this comparison. Moving on, we come to infrastructure. A miserable Number 40. To be sure, we have more roads, more railroad miles and quite probably more potholes and rickety bridges than any other state. But the state also has more newcomers than the other 49, who use a growing amount of our infrastructure. We can’t keep up, and we obviously don’t plan to. Opportunity: New Mexico calls itself “the land of opportunity,” but ranks 46 in this study. New Hampshire is first. Thank God for Mississippi, which is last. Texas is a lowly 45 in opportunity. That surprises me because hordes of people come here from both south and north seeking jobs, better pay and far better Tex-Mex than their homelands offer.
This also surprising because of our next category: Economy. We are up there in the No. 6 slot. (Colorado is first.) Former governor and current Energy Secretary Rick Perry ran for President twice on his “Texas miracle” platform, touting our booming economy and, piggybacking it on our great opportunities. It would seem that these last two categories, opportunities and the economy, would be about the same. Now we get down to the nitty-gritty: the category that is responsible for most of the other rankings: state government. According this first-ever survey by USNWR, the state with the best government is – roll of drums – Indiana! Huh? Yes, they have the Indianapolis 500 (I think they’re all guilty) and former Indiana Gov. Mike Pence is now the vice-president, president of the Senate and world-wide Explainer & Apologizer in Chief. But Indiana? Last, with the worst government, is New Jersey. Texas comes in at No. 11. Really, considering how low we are in everything from health care to cons to infrastructure, we should be lower.
Which is the best all-around state? The envelope, please. The winner is “La La Land.” No, actually it’s Massachusetts. The Bay State finished first in education (Yeah, but can Harvard play decent football?), second in health care and never placed lower than 16 in any category. Texas, our beloved Texas, all hail the 38th best state. We know we’re No. 1, but when we rank lower than Georgia, South Dakota and Idaho, it’s time to re-evaluate our state’s government. We could be defensive and note that U.S. News was the lowest-ranking news magazine in the U.S., after Time and Newsweek before it went defunct. Now it is only on-line and publishes special issues like its rankings. But being defensive would overlook the fact that Texas is poorly governed. As you read these very words, our legislators are meeting in Austin deciding who to tax, how much, and where to spend it. They are empowered to support good and forward-looking projects. But led by the Official State Demagogue, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, our lawmakers are debating school bathrooms. Good ol’ Patrick. Hours after 49 people were massacred and 53 wounded in a gay bar in Orlando, Patrick tweeted a Bible verse: “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.” And he asked parents if they wanted their 10th grader showering with students of the opposite sex. We’re lucky we rank at all.
Ashby ranks at firstname.lastname@example.org
THE OFFICE – It’s not here, nor there, either. My long-lost Magna Carta has to be here somewhere. Maybe this drawer, no. This one? Odd, the bottom left drawer of my desk is stuck. I’ll just tug. Tug-tug. It won’t move. Why am I bothering you with this? Because I might make you money, big money. Let me refresh your memory, and this time take notes. Michael Sparks was a music equipment technician in Nashville, Tenn. In 2007, Sparks bought a yellowed, shellacked, rolled-up document in a thrift store for $2.48. It turned out to be a rare 1823 copy of the Declaration of Independence, which Sparks later sold at auction for $477,650. In 1989, Donald Scheer of Atlanta bought a painting at a Philadelphia flea market because he liked the frame. When taking it apart, out fell an original copy (about 500 were printed) of the Declaration of Independence. Scheer sold it for $2.42 million, but he got taken. In 2000, that same piece of paper was sold for $8.14 million.
People are always discovering items which were unrecognized or were hidden. Some discoveries we can’t call long lost because no one knew they were there in the first place. Folks make a hobby, or profession, out of checking flea markets, auction houses and their grandmother’s attic for possible treasures. Goodwill even keeps tabs of such finds. Sean and Rikki McEvoy of Knoxville, Tenn., bought a sweater for 58 cents at a Goodwill store in June 2014 in Asheville, North Carolina. It had “West Point” on the front and the word “Lombardi” written in black ink on a cotton swatch sewn inside. It turned out to be owned and worn by Vince Lombardi when he coached there from 1949 to 1953. The jersey was sold in an auction in New York City for $43,020. An Englishman roaming the British version of a flea market paid the equivalent of $38 in U.S. currency to purchase a Breitling wrist watch worn by James Bond in the movie “Thunderball.” At a Christie’s auction in 2013, the watch sold for $160,175. As an interesting side note, and possibly the reason for the high selling price, the watch was the first one modified by the famous Q Branch to include a Geiger counter to help Bond detect nuclear radiation.
Here’s one of the biggest finds of all. A scrap metal dealer paid $14,000 for a Faberge Egg at a flea market. He knew it was gold, and he was going to melt it down for scrap. Turns out the find was estimated at a value of over $30 million at an auction. According to Faberge, of the 50 Fabergé Imperial Eggs known to have existed, only 43 are currently accounted for. The finder was never identified, and it could be just an urban legend, like Texas Democrats.
There may be undiscovered treasurers closer to home. Let me remind you of my story. This is a white plate with lots of blue designs – drums, flags, in the center are two mid-19th century artillerymen — given to me by my mother. Later a friend showed me an auction house catalogue with an article reading: “Texas Campaigne China” A dish just like mine, pictured in the catalogue, was stored in a glass-faced box in a vault in New York City. The going price: $12,000! Why so much? The price and value of Texanna is skyrocketing. British rock star Phil Collins will pay any price for any item even remotely connected to the Alamo. His own collection has been sent to the state and will be housed in a new facility on the Alamo grounds.
Texas is loaded with old stuff that’s better than can be found on PBS-TV’s “Antiques Roadshow.” I have a cannonball from the San Jacinto battleground that was dug up miles away and years later. It’s a long story. You may be familiar with the de la Pena diary. It was allegedly written by Lt. José Enrique de la Peña, an officer in Santa Anna’s army when it invaded Texas in 1836. The diary was supposedly discovered by an art dealer, Jesus Sanchez Garza, in a Mexico City market in 1955. Garza paid a few pesos. It was auctioned in 1998 for $387,500 and now resides at UT-Austin. But you don’t have to be a Crockett scientist to see a lot of old stuff ain’t really old. For example, the de la Pena diary itself is suspect.
The Alamo flag – the defenders’ only banner — wasn’t found until 1934 in a drawer in Chapultepec Palace. One of Santa Anna’s artificial legs was discovered on display in the office of the Illinois adjutant general. The Twin Sisters, the two cannon the Texas Army had at San Jacinto, have been missing for 154 years. In 2007, Gov. Rick Perry proudly announced that Texas was paying $550,000 for a letter penned by Crockett from East Texas on Jan. 9, 1836, to his son and daughter back in Tennessee. Experts questioned the letter’s authenticity, and the deal was quietly cancelled. And don’t buy any Republic of Texas stamps. Texas never issued stamps.
I am still trying to pry open this drawer. It is part of my huge oaken roll-top desk used by my father, a pediatrician. As a tad I would go to his office and sit at this desk, filling out prescriptions on a pad. Wonder if Dad ever got raided by the DEA? He gave me this desk when I was about 12 or so, and I’ve had it ever since. Ah, the drawer is opening. Bottles of pills? Old prescription pads? Gold bars which I should really tell my siblings about? No, finders’ keepers. Tom Brady’s jersey? Gad, only old scripts for books and movies that I never got around to finishing. Well, it could have been a Fabergé Imperial Egg. The yolk’s on me, but to paraphrase Capitol One, what’s in your attic?
Ashby is hunting at email@example.com
By Lynn Ashby 20 Feb. 2017
THE OFFICE – A fast train running between Houston and Dallas is such a good idea that rumors say President Donald Trump is considering adding high-speed rail in Texas to his priority list of national infrastructure projects. What an original idea. My grandfather would endorse the program. Actually he did, about 120 years ago. This is his conductor’s hat, black, round, with a bill and gold trim. “T&NO CONDUCTOR,” it reads. (That was the Texas & New Orleans.) My grandfather, for whom I am named and knew quite well – he and my grandmother lived next door – started out at 19 as a conductor on the Houston to Dallas route. Back then there were several trains running each way each day, as fast as speed allowed at the time (1900 to the 1950s).
Today’s high-speed trains are faster, and have run for years in France and Japan. Indeed, it is a Japanese company which plans to build a bullet train for us. But there are massive problems, so don’t pack your bags just yet. Remember then-Gov. Rick Perry’s Texas Triangle? It would connect the Metroplex to Houston, San Antonio and several towns in between. The roadway would carry cars, trains, utility wires and probably ox carts. Never got off the ground. The cost was astronomical (one strike), to be built by a Spanish company (strike two) and would take over strips of land across Texas as wide as 2,500 feet (yer out!).
This new plan, pushed by Texas Central Partners, Texas Central Railway or TCR, is meeting the same problems. Foreign company, farmers and ranchers don’t want a huge chunk of their land taken over, while county commissioners and lawmakers fear hundreds if not thousands of acres would be stripped from the tax rolls. TCR says no tax dollars would be used to build it, which still leaves the tax-roll situation. Backers are having other problems, too, like getting land routes into the downtowns, money and how to get their hands on rural land. TCR’s claimed “eminent domain” power as a railroad is very much in question, and is now being contested in state court, with trial set for July. However, “The Texas Bullet Train Project” as it is sometimes called, is receiving some high praise from supporters in Dallas — by both residents and elected officials. In a report by a Dallas TV station, supporters said they are getting excited about its economic impact to Dallas.
A few years ago, there were plans for a far more modest project than the bullet train: to run a train from Houston to Galveston. As I wrote at the time, the line was first estimated in 2005 to cost $350 million; then the projected cost nearly doubled to $650 million. In 2007 Galveston spent $350,000 for a study to see if the idea was feasible. The study said yes. In 2008, the city spent $850,000 in mostly federal money for an analysis to determine whether Congress would fund the project. Huh? This is no way to run a railroad. A project that was supposed to be completed by 2013 never even began.
And to think that railroads help make Texas what it is, from the beginning. Back on Dec. 16, 1836, the First Congress of the Republic of Texas chartered the Texas Rail Road, Navigation, and Banking Company to construct railroads “from and to any such points…as selected.” That’s my kind of governmental oversight. Nothing came of the iron horse until the 1850s when rail companies rose and fell with each economic boom and bust. The first lines went out from Houston, which made Swamp City very proud. If you look at an early map of Houston you will see rail lines branching out from downtown like spokes on a wheel. Even today, the official seal of the City of Houston sports an ancient locomotive and, with a nod to the future, ugly, black smoke billowing from its smokestack. The city’s motto was, “Where 22 railroads meet the sea.” That must have been one big splash.
With the line heading west, to cross the Brazos the railroad first used a ferry and inclined planes on each side of the river. This system was replaced in October 1858 by a low-water crossing. The Little Engine That Could had to chug mightily to gain the momentum necessary to climb up the steep grade on the opposite side. Soon rail lines crossed the state. The Houston and Texas Central was able to reach Corsicana in 1871, Dallas in 1872. So we had trains running back and forth between Houston and Dallas 145 years ago. But not now.
To handle this growing industry, the Railroad Commission, created in 1891, became one of the most powerful regulatory bodies in the state, but corruption was a constant problem as influential railway companies worked behind the scenes to control lawmakers and the government. Corruption, in the Texas Legislature? Get serious. Today substitute “railroads” for “oil, insurance and out-of-state casinos.” The Railroad Commission no longer has anything to do with railroads, and Texas has only two passenger lines running through it: The Texas Eagle from Chicago to San Antonio and the Sunset Limited from New Orleans to Los Angeles. Now Houston’s one station is a small but adequate facility, while the other one has been turned into a baseball stadium. Still, Texas continues to have more railroad mileage than any other state and the largest number of railroad employees. I didn’t know that, did you?
When was the last time you took a train (as opposed to being railroaded)? I have always loved trains, took Amtrak a few weeks, no bag search, metal detectors or seat belts. And if you have flown from Hobby to Love, or the other way, how long was it from your home to your hotel, or office to office? Maybe taking a train from Houston to Dallas would be a good idea. What do you think, Grandpa?
Ashby conducts at firstname.lastname@example.org
TULLY STADIUM – This is where my son and his son played football and where my daughter led cheers for the Fightin’ Wildcats. The whole complex would make many a college envious, for it is a vast and expensive facility with double-decked press boxes, big scoreboard, and artificial turf. My tax dollars at work. Ah, but this stadium pales in comparison to what the Katy ISD, right down the road, is building: a $62.5 million facility (but the cost keeps rising) which makes it the most expensive high school football stadium in Texas, beating out the Allen ISD, up near Dallas, which spent $60 million to build its stadium. However, another $10 million is needed to repair “significant structural defects.”
That’s a lot of money, but it’s all a matter of priorities. As CBS newsman Bob Schieffer (TCU) said, “In Texas, the week begins on Friday nights.” This creates a problem, and as usual, I have the solution. The problem: Many of our best football talent – the blue chippers — are going to out-of-state schools, there to raise millions for LSU, Florida, USC on an on. A recent survey by the Houston Chronicle determined that four of the 32 five-star recruits in the nation are from Texas, and none are staying here. A composite survey found that nine of the state’s top 15 recruits are leaving Texas. What we have here is a brain concussion drain. There are several reasons for the days when all our best players were staying in state. One reason: At the end of the last season, no Texas university ranked in any Top 25 poll. If you’re a winner in high school, why would you want to play for a loser? Then there is the constantly changing coaching situation. A head football coach at UH went to Baylor, then his replacement at UH went to Texas A&M. The last UH coach fled to UT, which had fired its coach, Charlie Strong, after only three years. We all know the chaos at Baylor, which now has had three coaches in two years. Texas A&M may be looking for a new coach. Same for Texas Tech since Kliff Kingsbury is only coaching .500. Every time a head coach leaves, some of the young men he recruited leave with him or just leave.
SMU is a special case. The Mustangs were once a football power with a Heisman Trophy winner. In 1987 SMU received the Death Penalty for a host of continued violations, the only time the NCAA has ever done that. SMU never recovered, and to this day is landing mostly the B and C list. Technology has played a role. It used to be that Texas recruiters could tell a young halfback, “Stay in the state and your folks can go see you play.” Cable TV lets the parents watch junior play for almost any school with a major program. And social media allows college coaches anywhere, if the tape is available, to view Number 34 running for yet another TD.
We’ve seen the problem, and why it is a problem, but what is it about our high school players that anyone else would care? Simply put, Texas has the oldest, largest and best high school football operator in the nation: the University Interscholastic League, or UIL. The old line goes: “There are better football programs, but they play on Sunday afternoons.” (As an aside, note the name contains “Scholastic” but not “Athletics,” because the UIL was established as an academic operation and still runs programs and contests for accounting, stage design, poetry interpretation and much more. But we’re talking football here, which most Texans prefer.) This past season, more than 150,000 students from 1,000 schools played UIL football. On any Friday night in the fall, some 600 games were played before 1-million people. Texas is the only state in the country that plays high school football using NCAA football rules, as opposed to the National Federation of State High School Associations. This provides for an easier move to the college level. Each December the top teams compete for the coveted state championship. This past year, 245,913 spectators watched the finals at AT&T Stadium (formerly Dallas Cowboys Stadium) and we must suspect 90 percent of them were college scouts. Over the years, the results have been impressive. Only 76 individuals can say they are Heisman trophy winners, and nine of them are products of Texas high school football. Meantime, 24 former UIL players have been inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame.
As for my solution to our blue-chippers heading out of state, we pay for these kids to begin playing at the age of 8 or 9, then support them when they move on to junior and finally high school. Texas taxpayers provide them with coaches, equipment, fields and bleachers not to mention cheerleaders, flag girls, bands with expensive uniforms and lots of adulation you can’t buy. Then, when they reach the top of their early game, they go to play for the Crimson Tide. (The starting quarterback for Alabama, the perennial Number 1 team in the nation, is Jalen Hurts from Channelview, Texas. How much money did Hurts generate for ‘Bama?) We have a coveted commodity here, and we are giving it away. Texas does not give away its oil, cattle or sleazy politicians. So we charge or trade. “Florida, you want Bubba Musclebound? That’ll be 100k and an orange grove to be named later.” “Okies, since most of your team is made up of turncoat Texans, spot UT three touchdowns in the Red River Shootout.”
This story has been told before, but is worth re-telling about an alleged confrontation some years ago at a coaches’ convention when Michigan State head football coach Duffy Daugherty ran into UCLA head coach Tommy Prothro. Daugherty thoroughly upbraided his colleague for “recruiting in my backyard.” Prothro replied that he hadn’t even been in Michigan lately, much less recruited there. “Not Michigan,” Daugherty fairly yelled. “Texas!”
Ashby is recruited at ashby2@comcast
HOVERING OVER HOUSTON — Fasten your seatbelts, trays up, wheels down. I am flying into Hobby from a trip to Las Vegas. (Hint: hotel rooms there don’t have coffee pots. They want you to use room service for coffee and muffins each morning: $37, $74 and $59. Nevada has no state income tax, but I was hit with a daily room tax, room fee and resort fee tax totaling $85.46.) Looking out the widow I see rows and rows of homes down below, in lines or semi-circles, facing cul-de-sacs, backed up to bayous. Those houses weren’t there 10 years ago, and, after Hurricane Bubba comes in August, may not be there next year. All of which leads us to – one guess — President Donald John Trump. It goes like this: one reason Trump won the election is that Russian President Vladimir Putin rigged it. Another reason is that Hillary Clinton was the worst presidential candidate since Aaron Burr. A third reason is that blue-collar workers in the Rust Belt believed Trump when he said he would stop the exodus of plants to Mexico and China. He would get American workers jobs again, he would bring back prosperity, heal the lame, walk on water, etc. etc. In a term, he would scratch their itch.
OK, these poor souls have been waiting for years for someone else to come to their aid, and we can’t help but feel sorry for them. But, not to sound too hard-hearted, there is a certain amount of self-pity there. How long are they going to sit in Cleveland waiting for the cavalry to arrive? Detroit, a lot of cities have financial problems, but you managed to go flat bankrupt, and others (us) had to bail you out. What measures did you take on your own? It’s like the Texas governor said in “The Best Little …:” “Somebody do something.” Your “do something’ was to vote into office a slightly crazed snake oil salesman who will make everything right, like tomorrow. But that tomorrow may be a long way off, so I have a solution. It’s called GTT, Gone To Texas. Those were the initials chalked, carved or burned into front doors of log cabins, houses and hovels across eastern America in the 1800s, and everyone who was left behind knew exactly what it meant. Davy Crocket put it more bluntly to his former constituents, after being defeated for reelection to Congress: “You all may go to hell. And I will go Texas!” (Some might say it was a short trip.)
In recent years, many have taken that advice. Texas’ population is growing twice as fast as the rest of the nation. Three reasons: foreign immigration — check the kitchen after your next restaurant meal. Natural birth rates — Texans are sex addicts. And national immigration – other Americans coming here. Do you ever get the idea that the Border Patrol is watching the wrong river? Texas’ population surged by 1.8 million people from 2010 to 2014 – Houston is catching up with Chicago — and the U.S. Census Bureau projects the state’s population will double by 2050.
Before you spray paint GTT on your ice-covered condo door, let’s make sure we’re a match. We like guns. Do you like guns? If you’re from Chicago, next question. We pronounce the word ROW-dee-oh, not row-DAY-oh. This isn’t Beverly Hills, as you will soon realize. Don’t shout: “Hook ‘Em Horns” in College Station. It’s a long story. Avoid saying things like, “That’s not the way we did it in Philadelphia,” or, “Shouldn’t Texas have an income tax like we did in Michigan?” We don’t need any more missionaries to the savages. At sporting events, wave banners of the home team, and that’s here. No more cheering when the Packers, Dodgers or Celtics score. Also, there is a vast difference in how Texans feel about George H.W. Bush and George W. Bush. Speaking of politics, the good old boys who controlled Texas for more than a century through the Democratic Party were white, male, conservative and often racist. They feared that the huge influx of northerners would bring with them East Coast liberalism, big government, high taxes and integration. These newcomers must have been converted because Texas now has the most right-wing state government in the nation.
We like sports such as gerrymandering, freeway demolition derbies and, above all, high school football. It was former Houston Post sports columnist Mickey Herskowitz who wrote: “There must really be something to religion. People keep comparing it to Texas high school football.” The slogan, “Don’t mess with Texas” originally dealt with litter. Now it’s a battle cry. “Remember the Alamo” was once a battle cry. Now it’s an order. Global warming is a hoax, but professional wrestling is real. Never squat while wearing spurs.
Some old timers (those who got here before 2007) say: “I’m aboard, so pull up the gangplank.” That’s a bit much, but we need to cherry-pick those who join us. Can your kid dribble, punt or bat .333? Do you plan to invest a couple of million in a new company here which will hire 300 workers? Are you an honest politician who doesn’t dwell in meaningless demagoguery like school restrooms? We have a few positions in Austin which desperately need replacing. There was an expression years ago about the GTT crowd and others who moved west: “The cowards never started, and the weak died along the way.” Actually, if you’re just gonna sit there collecting food stamps and welfare checks while waiting for someone else – like President Trump — to solve your problems, you wouldn’t cut it in Texas, anyway.
Right now, looking down at those new homes spread out across the salt grass prairie, I suspect few of those inhabitants are from Houston, or even from Texas. As the West Berliners who fled communism, used to say, “We voted with our feet.” You’ve already voted for Trump, now vote with your feet.
Ashby moved to email@example.com
By Lynn Ashby 30 January 2017
THE EYES HAVE IT
THE KITCHEN — Elderly Chinese gentleman: “I am going to have an eye operation.” Questioner: “Do you have a cataract?” ECG: “No, I have an Oldsmobile.” (Bob Hope, circa 1955) You can’t tell ethnic jokes like that anymore, but in fact, I did have a cataract, and it is no laughing matter. My story began when I noticed my eyesight was getting fuzzy, so, obviously, I went to see my doctor. He happens to be an endocrinologist, but that’s close enough for medical work, and maybe he could prescribe something. He prescribed another doctor, an ophthalmologist, actually several. They seem to specialize: retina, pupil, eye lid, eye lash, left eye, right eye, bull’s eye.
After I visited most members of the AMA, the docs decided I had a nuclear reincarnation or maybe it was a miscalculated degeneration in my left eye. (Hey, I flunked out of pre-med. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be reading these magnificent words.) And I had cataracts in both eyes. So the cataract doc decided to operate on the right eye and then the left. I was prepared for a small inconvenience. “It’s a nothing operation,” a friend said. “I drove myself to the doctor the next day for a post-op checkup.” Said another: “I had both eyes done one afternoon. Went to work the next morning.” I returned to the clinic a week later and visited several eye machines I got to know from previous visits. “Put your chin here, close your left eye, now close your right eye. What do you see?” I replied, “Nothing.” I may have been a medical first.
After seven nurses — or maybe it was 72 virgins, I couldn’t see that well — prepared me, the Chief Doctor came in, he looked about 18, and went to work digging into my eyeball. One thing I noticed is that today’s drill presses are really very quiet. He was good, quick, steady and didn’t make jokes about “by your pupils you will be taught.” (“The King and I”) In a minute or so he told me he had deropped the right melgin and transmuted my optic-fiffel. “Your vision will be a little foggy for a while,” he warned.
That turned out to be like saying, “You might miss your left leg at first.” The week went by and I was not doing so well. Actually I was walking around with a white cane and a tin cup. The second week I was in the kitchen saying, “It’s around here somewhere. Third drawer from the stove. Just open it and get out my beer opener and…OUCH! It seems I have cut off my finger.” It’s easy to mistake a knife for a beer opener. On my next visit to the eye doctor, he said I was coming along nicely. “I guess I am getting better,” I agreed. “Excuse me,” he replied, “but I’m over here.” Incidentally, I am detailing my experiences to save you a lot of time and money on yourself or on your family so they will know what to expect after a cataract operation. For example, don’t ask me to drive a car. “But Officer, I know I was on my side of the road.” “Does your side include the curb, median and toll booth?” Avoid using terms such as: “Now see here,” “It’s as plain as day” and, “Would you close the blinds?”
As a good investigative journalist, I looked into what causes cataracts so as to avoid them in the future. According to the Mayo Clinic, a lot of things. “Most cataracts develop when aging or injury changes the tissue that makes up your eye’s lens.” Other causes include genetic disorders, i.e., you inherited bad vision which I didn’t, “other eye conditions,” diabetes and long-term use of steroids. Thanks a lot, Mayo. You’ve been a great deal of help. On my next visit to the eye doctor, he suggested he not operate on my left eye until the right eye was clear. I figured that would be in time for the next Olympics – summer, not winter. Receiving such bad advice from friends earlier that I would be seeing clearly within a day or two, I asked how long my fuzzy eyesight should last. The doc zeroed in: “That depends.” My mother always said I was her slow one, but I didn’t know that included recovery from dueling with a drill press.
A major problem with the inability to see clearly has nothing to do with needle-point sewing or repairing watches. It’s about reading. Yes, I could watch TV although I kept mistaking the Rockets for the Cowboys. Is it Rachel Maddow or Chuck Todd with the beard? Listening to music was a (excuse the cliché) no brainer. I read everything: books, magazines, newspapers, billboards, the ingredients in Ritz crackers (“Protein less than 1g”) and my neighbors’ mail when it’s misdirected. But I can’t read newspapers’ fine print, just the headlines. “Group Slates Meeting.” “Man Bites Dog.” “Trump Demands Recount of Recount.” The sports section is no help: “Cats Bag La-La Land With Walk-Off.” Huh? Then there are those news headlines which raise more questions than they answer: “Texas Legislature Bans Women’s Health” and: “White House Annexed by Trump Tower.”
Suspicions develop. I am not absolutely certain, but I think my children are re-writing my will including something about “an ice floe.” A TV bulletin across the bottom of the screen called for my ouster from America and banishment to Waco. They say (“they” being either Google or Facebook) that when you lose one sense, the rest become even stronger. That’s true, because I can hear people talking about me. I am not paranoid, but I distinctly heard my family say, “Hit and run,” “I know the combination” and “ice floe.” This is now week six and I can see much better. Even my driving has improved, although it is still hard to spot an Oldsmobile.
Ashby leads the blind at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Lynn Ashby 16 Jan. 2017
THE DEN – Hello, 911? Need to report a burglary. Boxes opened and left around, scattered papers and ribbons. No, it’s only the leftovers from Christmas. Yes, that celebration was weeks ago, and by nowmost families have long since cleaned up remnants of their on-line orgy, but it is taking me a little longer. Actually, each year seems to take longer than the year before. I blame the liberal media. You know the annual drill. Right after Labor Day merchants begin to deck the malls with boughs of holy – holy elves, holy tool kits, holy 50 percent off! Holiday catalogues – which began arriving in September – stack up in your front hall. Then you get on your computer and order all your gifts on-line.
Slowly, however, Christmas has been changing. Greetings, for example. Despite Bill O’Reilly’s forgettable “war on Christmas” crusade, which he seems to have abandoned, we no longer hear simply “Merry Christmas,” but also “Happy holidays,” “Season’s greetings” and “Hand over your purse.” (No matter whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah or Solstice of the Druids, for simplicity sake we shall just use Christmas.) Another change: I am receiving fewer Christmas cards. Maybe it’s because I stopped sending them out when postage went up to a nickel. Those cards I do receive sport photographs of children or grandchildren, but not just standing in a snow drift. Cards now have to show the exotic places they have been in the last year while I sat on the couch watching re-runs of “My Mother the Car.” Or I get a letter saying how they spent the last year. If the message doesn’t contain some really juicy stuff (“After the SWAT raid, Junior had to junk his meth lab.”) I don’t care.
Have you noticed what you did not see prior to this Dec. 25th? Cars with Christmas trees tied to the top. Is the live-tree fad over after 200 years? People seem to be going to plastic trees or metal or maybe they just store a tree in the attic and bring it down each year. My own tree looks nice, once I put little balls, icicles and lights over the coat hangers. Do you still wrap your presents? That means getting out the rolls of paper, ribbons and bows, Scotch tape and scissors. Today I use paper bags with tissue paper stuffed in the top so others can’t see what’s inside. You can buy fancy Christmas bags which can cost more than the gift itself, or do as I do and grab a few extras at the grocery store checkout counter.
Each year music producers try to come out with a new and catchy Christmas song. But not since “Silent Night’ (1818) has any new carol really caught on. The best of late (1962) are the songs from “Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol,” with lyrics like “We’re rep-re-HEN-sible. We’ll steal your pen and PEN-sible.” For years I couldn’t fill stockings without the Pope on TV chanting in 34 different languages. Gifts have changed over the years. As a child, I would receive presents from my parents such as metal toys that would come apart so as to stick in my throat. Or wooden blocks covered in lead paint. Those killjoys at the EPA and CDC have taken all the excitement out of a trip to the emergency room, but if the new administration cuts back on senseless regulations, we may return to those glory days.
Santa still rules in the malls. One year my editor instructed me to play Santa at a department store for a few hours. That was one of the toughest jobs I ever had as a reporter, aside from acting as a food taster for Dick Cheney. I had to lift up most of the kids onto my lap, and hear their requests for guns and dogs and to get rid of their little sister. Those too big to sit on my lap just whispered into my ear requests that I couldn’t repeat to their parents. Speaking of presents, this past Christmas there probably wasn’t a tree in America that didn’t have some kind of electronic gadget under it. Prior to Christmas, parents would have to stock up on batteries of all sizes, shapes and wattage. Now everything seems to plug into a charger. Good.
Have you noticed that outdoor Christmas decorations have gone from a wreath on the front door to a simple string of lights to the Las Vegas Strip? I have houses in my neighborhood that suck up more electricity than a small city. They have strings of lights marking every peak and drainpipe, with eight tiny reindeer in the front yard, Santa on the rooftop and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing in the background. I wouldn’t mind it so much if the reindeer wouldn’t use my front yard for their Port-O-John. Where do they put all this paraphernalia during the off-season? This brings us to today, after the party is over. Where do you store your Christmas gear? By now your tree is so dry and brittle that the pine will burst like a napalm bomb over Khe San if it comes near a flame. Garbage collectors might take it. There was some movement to put all those trees out in the Gulf as a reef. That makes no sense. The unused wrappings and ribbons can be stuffed under a bed, and those bags I mentioned can be used again and again if you remember to rip off the “to” and “from” tags. As for your strings of lights, there is an elf that comes by your house during the summer and thoroughly knots up your strings. On the other hand, it’s only a few months till the next Christmas, and I could just leave the decorations in place. It was Joan Rivers who said, “I don’t know why people do house cleaning. Six months later you have to do it all over again.”
Ashby procrastinates at email@example.com
By Lynn Ashby 16 Jan. 2017
A RARE MEDIUM, WELL DONE
THE CLASSROOM — Welcome, class, to Journalism 101, in which you will learn the basics of journalism such as how to change facts to suit your own political positions, slant stories, stick in biases without leaving fingerprints and destroy America as we know it today. First, here are a few random notes: Never write a headline that ends with a question mark. Your newspaper is supposed to know the answer, that’s why readers turn to it. Never print a letter to the editor that begins with: “Now let me get this straight.” If the writer doesn’t know how to solve the problem, get it straight before bothering the rest of us. We’re busy. Do not write headlines about missing pets with, “Dog Gone,” or run a story about unexpected reptiles with the headline, “Snakes Alive!” They were shopworn before Johannes Gutenberg was setting type.
When you told your folks you were going to major in journalism, they probably said, “But newspapers are dead.” Wrong, they are only on temporary life support. It goes this way: The first newspapers sprang up in London in the 1600s and look nothing like the papers of today, or even those of the 1700s. By the Civil War, newspapers had tiny type and no photographs, just drawings. Editors placed stories as they arrived, with the first at the top of the page, and so on. Down at the very bottom was the last story to come in: “Lincoln Shot!” Today’s papers are evolving, just as everything else is – cars, clothes and the way we get our news. Most of us, especially younger people, get their information via emails, on-lines, iPads, hashtags and tom-toms, but not newspapers.
Two points here. The newspaper industry is getting into these news media. And it’s working. Today The New York Times has more readers than it has ever had, and more than half of these readers are not holding papes. Indeed, newspapers may have to start calling themselves a “newsbox: or “newscreen.” On the other hand, you still “dial” a phone number and “roll down” your car window. The other point is that, while you may think you don’t read newspapers, you’re right. They are being read to you. Notice how often you read your local newspaper and then see that same story on the local evening TV news. Same thing for national TV newscasts. The line about “NBC has learned” is correct. They learned it from reading that morning’s Washington Post. I once heard a reporter say, “I’d feel a lot better about what they say and write if I ever covered a speech, convention or rally and saw a reporter from the Huffington Post, the Drudge Report or Brightbart. There aren’t any.” The worst in parasite journalism are the radio, TV and pundit panels whose main, if not only, feedstock are the “mainstream media” as they like to despairingly put it. Talk about biting the hand. Donald Trump, like a good vaudevillian, tried out different lines in various speeches. He removed lines that fell flat: (“I am a Humble man. And Exxon and Shell and the Koch Brothers.”) He kept the zingers: The Wall and insults to the press. Now he works them into every speech. His followers love it.
I have been a journalist for a long time. Actually, when I got my first scoop I rushed into the city room yelling, “Stop the chisels!” But never before have I witnessed the press so hated. Indeed, a story from the Huffington Post repeated (remember that earlier line about parasite journalism) cited a
Gallup poll that showed people don’t have much confidence in newspaper and TV reporters when it comes to being honest and ethical. In a survey taken of more than 1,000 adults in the U.S., only 20 percent rated TV reporters “high” or “very high” for honesty and ethical standards, putting it sixth from the bottom of Gallup’s list of professions. Only 21 percent of respondents rated newspaper reporters positively for honesty. Another poll said newspaper reporters ranked the worst of the worst jobs in Career Cast’s 2016. Broadcaster was rated the fourth-worst job, finishing behind disc jockey, military personnel and pest control worker, according to the report.
Another point to learn: You will be hated. Total strangers will walk up to you and insult your profession, employer, colleagues and your mother. Learn how to say, “Sorry. Did I spell your name wrong in the story about the brothel bust?” Or: “After reading page one, do your lips get tired?” Students, you won’t find, or need, such training in the Architecture School, Pharmacist College or the Department of Ceramic Engineering.
All of this is not new. Thomas Jefferson wrote. “The man who never looks into a newspaper is better informed than he who reads them, inasmuch as he who knows nothing is nearer to truth than he whose mind is filled with falsehoods and errors.” However, Tom also wrote: “And were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.” Don’t complain. You know what you are getting into. If you don’t like it, there is still time to go over to the Department of Ceramic Engineering. No one ever writes hate letters to pottery makers.
A final point: You ink-stained wretches and TV good-hairs should know this pursuit can be dangerous. Before the Normandy invasion on the sixth of June, 1944, D-Day, 58 war correspondents were selected to accompany Allied troops ashore in the first wave. Before leaving, they were all ordered to write their own obituaries. Some were published. Nothing’s changed. The Committee to Protect Journalists reports that in 2016 at least 48 journalists were killed worldwide doing their jobs (Journalists Without Borders puts the deaths at 74.) while 28 deaths are still being investigated. Another 268 were jailed. Gives a whole new; meaning to the term “deadlines.” OK, students, get out there and lie.
Ashby slants at firstname.lastname@example.org
OUR WELL-RED LEADER
THE TUNNEL — It began a year or so ago when an obscure New York City developer named Donald Trump, who apparently hosted a TV show that appealed to those with double digit IQs, announced he was running for president. That made a good joke all around and everyone said he would lose. Trump predicted the reason for outcome: “This election is rigged!” He would make this accusation in every speech. He didn’t go into details. Then an odd thing happened in the campaign. Hacked emails from the Democratic campaign began appearing on WikiLeaks. Confidential memos about how to defeat the Bernie Sanders campaign, and Leon Panetta, Hillary Clinton’s campaign manager, was caught calling Chelsea “a spoiled brat.” On and on the secret and damaging memos came to light. Oddly enough, nothing from the Republican campaigns. Not a word, not a secret plan, nary what Trump thought about his GOP opponents. Of course, he made it clear all along what he thought of them – “idiots,” “no energy,” “not presidential looking” and more.
I had to look into this. My first stop was at the Democratic National Committee Ode-kay Oom-ray. I knocked on the door. “What’s the secret password?” a voice from inside asked. “I don’t know,” I replied. The door opened. “That’s it. We can’t be too careful. Someone has been hacking our emails. That seems strange after we hired a security firm, KGB, Inc. They came highly recommended by Stasi & Sons,” This may be the problem, but I needed more information. Then, just a week or so before Election Day, FBI Director James Comey released a confidential memo only to members of Congress saying that the FBI was re-investigating Hillary’s emails. A few days after that, Comey sent Congress a second secret memo wondering how the first message got out to the public, and adding that the FBI really didn’t find anything new in the second batch of emails. But the damage was done – the American people discovered that Congress can’t keep a secret.
In my investigation, I went to the GOP headquarters. It wasn’t easy getting past the armed guards, land mines and searchlights. Did I mention the dogs? “What’s the password?” a voice behind the steel door asked. “Actually, we need to know how you feel about his Imperial Majesty’s life, campaign, appointees and other details. You have to know the real Donald J. Trump before you can come in. We understand there’s been some leaking of information going on in this election campaigns.” I had to think. “He promised to pay for his own campaign, and didn’t. He said we have the worst murder rate in 45 years, which is false. He said time and again that he would never settle the many suits against him and his Trump University, and settled for $25 million. He dodged the military draft because he said he had a bone spur on one foot, but can’t remember which foot or the name of the doctor who wrote Trump’s get out of the draft free letter. He said he’d release his federal income taxes after the election. He hasn’t and probably won’t. Am I getting warm? He said he’d drain the swamp of Washington insiders and bring in fresh faces. So far he’s appointed three retired generals, most of Goldman Sachs executives and thus far they have a combined wealth of fourteen billion – billion – dollars. And he keeps saying how he won ‘by a landslide.’ He did get more votes in the Electoral College, but he lost to Hillary Clinton by more than three point eight million votes, the most ever for a losing candidate. Landslide? He got stomped.”
There was a pause behind the door. “What’s your point?” I never got in, so I sought advice from my paranoid mentor, Deep Threat. “It’s easy to see what happened in the campaign. First, the Democrats couldn’t have picked a worst candidate, except there weren’t any others. Poor Bernie was just .too radical for most voters. Hillary had that nomination locked up since she lost to Obama. But she was carrying more baggage than a Wells Fargo stage. Oops, bad analogy. Millions s of American don’t just dislike the Clintons’ politics, they personally hate them. Why not? With their awful deeds, like running a tunnel from a New York City pizza parlor to run children into their sex ring. No wonder that patriot from North Carolina took a gun into the shop and fired off a round or two. You heard that Hillary had a sex-change operation, and eats live mice. It must be true, I got it from social media. I mean, Facebook never lies.”
I got up to leave. “This is ridiculous. Next you’ll be telling me that Hillary won the election.”
“That’s supposed to be top secret.”
My last stop was in a tunnel running from a New York pizza parlor to the DMC, where I met the Russian’ best agent, the Kremlin Gremlin. “I’m not here. I never told you anything and when you finish this conversation, burn the words. It is true that Putin and Trump exchange messages, emails and the occasional Valentine. And, yes, U.S. techies traced the rumors about Hillary’s health issues to Moscow. . But wen had nothing to do with leaking the emails from Hillary — numbers 23 through 34,998 — or those embarrassing the Democratic Party — series 1 through776 – and we didn’t plant a listening device under the Democrats’ meeting table, It’s a mere a coincidence that the bug’s letters were in Cyrillic. We I didn’t to rig the election.”
I noticed that, as he talked, his nose was growing longer. “The Russians simply took advantage of — how do Americans say? — gullibility and stupidity,” I then asked, “So Trump was the Manchurian candidate?” He laughed. “More like the Gregorian candidate.”
“But the presidential election was not rigged? I asked.
“Nyet, Trump was right. The election was rigged. He just didn’t say how.”
Ashby is rigged at email@example.com .
By Lynn Ashby 26 Dec. 2016
THE TV – “Down, set, Omaha eight. Black bear forty-seven. Tight right court jester!” And the play begins. Are you ready for some football? If not, switch to the Trump Channels, aka CNN and Fox News, because all that the networks will be showing are football games, mostly of the bowl variety. Which contests have you marked on your calendar? Maybe the San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl or the Nova Home Loans Bowl.
As we can see, higher academics joined with TV networks and good ol’ American greed to make another buck by selling naming rights to post-season college football games. Thus the Cotton Bowl is now the Goodyear Cotton Bowl Classic, the Sugar Bowl is the Allstate Sugar Bowl (played at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome),? How many wingbacks are there in the Buffalo Wild Wings Bowl? How long will you remember the Valero Alamo Bowl? Can you be in the Red Zone in the AutoZone Liberty Bowl? It’s only a matter of time until we have the Scrubbing Bubbles Toilet Bowl.
. Can you be in the Red Zone in the AutoZone Liberty Bowl, The ancient Rose Bowl has maintained a fig leaf over its privates with the Rose Bowl Game Presented by Northwestern Mutual, Incidentally, we all know that the Rose Bowl is the first, and granddaddy, of all the post-season bowl games, but what’s the second oldest? El Paso’s Sun bowl, 1935. The Sugar and Orange Bowls claim they ae the second oldest, but their cases are weak.
A quick story about the Sun Bowl, as told by Burt Reynolds on the “Johnny Carson Show.” Reynolds was the third-string halfback on the Florida State team that was playing in the Sun Bowl. Knowing that he wouldn’t be playing in that game – he had sat out most of the season – he and some teammates went to Juarez the night before the game, where Reynolds got totally plastered. At game time he was sitting at the end of the bench, paying no attention to the game. The starter at his position got hurt, then his backup went down. From far away, he heard a voice yelling: “Reynolds, get your helmet and get on the field!” There was just one problem, as Reynolds told it: All game long he had been throwing up in his helmet.
Years ago there were only a few major bowl games pitting the winners of the various conferences. We had the Cotton Bowl in Dallas featuring the champions of the old Southwest Conference, the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans, with the SEC champs, both on TV at the same time, then the Rose Bowl with the Pac 10 champ on Pacific Coast, time, and finally the Orange Bowl at night preceded by one of the strangest parades of the year. Over time, games have come and gone.
Stadiums have changed, too. Mostly the games go indoors for winter comfort. As a tad, my brother and I would sell programs at Cotton Bowl games on an icy Dallas New Year’s Day. It was so cold (how cold was it”) I actually had people approach me, not to buy a program, but to buy my woolen cap and scarf. Looking back, why was I selling those stupid programs when I could have made a tidy fortune setting up a booth selling jackets, scarves, woolen caps and gloves? The Cotton bowl is now played in the comfort of Cowboy Stadium, or AT&T MegaBox. The 1942 Rose Bowl was originally scheduled to be played in the Rose Bowl Stadium in Pasadena, Calif. But it was moved to Durham, North Carolina, due to fears about an attack by the Japanese on the West Coast following the attack on Pearl Harbor three weeks earlier.
Incidentally, during all college football games, including the bowls, the halftime is filled with commercials. OK, they pay the freight. But then they show four aging jocks sitting behind a desk telling us that Amherst is taking a licking from Williams (before 600 rabid spectators), and that Ramblin’ Rick Raspberry may break the passing record in the Upper Michigan & Lower Manitoba Conference. Couldn’t we see the bands, instead? Those students work very hard, practicing new formations and tunes weekly, and some shows are really impressive. Show the bands!
Major bowls don’t have any trouble filling the stadiums and getting top TV money, but others have had problems. Baylor once played in the late Bluebonnet Bowl in Houston, and, last I heard, never did get paid. To host a bowl game, usually the idea begins with a group of city leaders forming a committee, which rounds up a sponsor (the Belk Company) to underwrite some of the costs. The committee then taps volunteers to put up signs, host pre-game banquets and buy a bunch of tickets which they hand out to employees, big customers and anyone else who promises to show up in 30 degree weather to see East West Virginia State play Oregon A&M. For the schools, it’s a big deal to be “bowl eligible” and then selected. Indeed, have you ever heard of a school declining a bowl invitation? The school selected has to pay the coach and his assistants a bonus because they must work a few weeks after the regular season is over, while their colleagues coaching non-playing teams are sitting on the couch watching bowl games on TV or, more likely, sending out resumes because they got canned. Schools promise to send the team, band, cheerleaders and mascot, and buy a certain number of tickets.
When all the bowl games are over, the top two teams left standing play for the championship, but the contest doesn’t seem to have a commercial sponsor – yet. But stand by for lots of car ads. It’s being played in Toyota Stadium, Anyway, it’s time for me to settle down on my couch, which is now my legal voting address, and watch some team I never heard of play another team which remains anonymous. “Down, set, bird dog right, alto solo!”
Ashby watches at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Lynn Ashby 19 Dec. 2016
SHED A TEAR FOR THE YEAR
Looking back at the year of 2016 in your rearview mirror is probably the best way to view it, for it was the Leap Year that gave us more 19th Century pronouncements from Texas leadership, the Olympics but also more frustration for local sports fans and — ta-da! – President Donald J. Trump. Please hold your applause.
So let’s consider 2016, a year that will live in infamy.
Dancing With the Lone Stars: Former Gov. Rick Perry bombed on the show, almost as badly as that other Texas two-step, Tom DeLay. The Houston school board, although chronically short of funds, agreed to pay $1.2 million – as a start — to rename eight schools named after Confederate loyalists. In almost four years in office. Friendswood Congressman Randy Weber hasn’t introduced a single bill that became law. During the 2016 Moldovian presidential election, Weber introduced a resolution critical of pro-Western, anti-Russian candidate Andrian Candu. A former spokesman to four U.S. ambassadors said, “Randy Weber does not know what he is doing.”
In its wisdom, the Texas Legislature allowed students at public universities to pack heat in the classroom and elsewhere. Brining forth this quote from Lisa Moore, a UT-Austin English professor: “The Second Amendment allows for a well-regulated militia. What we have is not a well-regulated militia. It’s a 21-year-old with a backpack.” Elsewhere in higher education, it’s been a tough year for the UH Cougers. The Big XII will remain with 10 members and Coach Tom Harman was hired away by UT, making him the third head football coach at UH to jump to that conference.
Finally, the school wanted to renovate its basketball arena with $40 million gained by selling naming rights.There was a slight problem: The structure was called Hofheinz Pavilion because Judge Roy Hofheinz bad given the school a bunch of money. The family hired an attorney to preserve the honor for the late judge, but UH head regent Tilman Fertitta said he would donate several millions if the gym were named for him. It was. The judge gets a plaza named for him and a statue. But good news; The UH Law Center forced the former South Texas College of Law not to change its name to something like the Houston Law School. Finally at UH: We’re Number One! UH Chancellor Renu Khator, who is also president of the main campus, was the top-paid public university leader in the country in 2015, earning $1.3 million.
Friday Night Frights (Katy Bar the Vault Dept.): Three years ago, voters in the Katy Independent School District rejected a bond package that included a $69 million second football stadium. The following year, voters approved a revised bond that included a scaled-back $58 million stadium. This fall, the price rose about $4.5 million more. It now stands at $62,5 million. The additional cost makes it the most expensive high school stadium in Texas, topping Allen ISD’s $60 million stadium, which opened in 2012. Why the additional costs? For more roads. It seems Katy’s new stadium is conveniently located right next to the current stadium, so there may be some parking problems on fall Friday nights.
Hours after the slaughter of 49 people at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Fla., Texas Lt. Gov. Day Patrick issued a Biblical twitter: “Do not be deceived. God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sews.” After a firestorm of complaints, the quote was taken down and Patrick’s office said it was “a coincidence.”
Mayor Sylvester “Pothole” Turner claims he solved the city’s pension problems, although experts say that isn’t the case at all. Besides, the plans will still have to be approved by our Texas Legislature, which is debating the dangers of the wheel. Moving on, what didn’t happen? No Gulf hurricanes. Wish You Were Still Here: Dr. Denton Cooley and sportscaster Bob Allen.
Sportsmanlike Conduct: J.J. Watt gave $10,000 to aid in the treatment of Grant Milton, senior linebacker for The Woodlands High School football team. Milton was critically injured during a playoff game. Quote of the Year: “Ain’t nobody got time for this.” – What Houston 911 operator Crenshanda Williams reportedly told thousands of panicked callers.
At last, The New York Times gave us some respect: “It’s easy enough to argue that Texas’ food scene hasn’t gotten the attention it deserves on the national stage, or at least that’s the way it used to be. Now, it appears as if Houston is rapidly becoming Texas’ – and perhaps the country’s – best dining destination.”
On April 2 the Houston Chronicle ran a long and flattering piece on Boss Ladies of Houston, including Pat Mickelis of the famed Cleburne Cafeteria. Unfortunately, Page 1 of that very edition reported the place had burned down. Also on media matters, Texas Monthly, owned for the last 18 years by a company in Indianapolis, has been bought by Genesis Park, a Houston company that includes a scion of the Hobby family.
The Houston Rockets lost to the Golden State Warriors in the playoffs, again.
Sen. Ted Cruz on Carly Fiorina: “Born in Texas, The very first thing I liked about her.”
Lisa Alamia went in for jaw surgery talking like the native Texan she is, but came out with a British accent. Doctors finally diagnosed her with one of medicine’s rarest maladies, foreign accent syndrome, a condition that inexplicably causes patients to suddenly begin speaking with a new, distinct accent.
A federal judge sentenced the former scouting director of the St. Louis Cardinals to nearly four years in prison for hacking the Houston Astros’ player personnel database and email system, Christopher Correa was fired and faced 46 months behind bars and a court order to pay $279,038 in restitution. Meanwhile, the Astros finished with an 84-78 record, worse than the previous season, 11 games out of first place in their division. Giving us this humbling headline from The New York Times: “Who Would Want to Hack the Houston Astros?”
Ashby is hacked at email@example.com
By Lynn Ashby 12 Dec. 2016
ALL JOKING ASIDE
THE LAFF GASP — Thank ya, thank ya, ladies and gentlemen. What a great crowd, not like last night’s bunch. They would have brought matches to a Joan of Arc concert. Got a lot of husbands here tonight? My wife keeps complaining that I never listen to her, or something like that. I know one husband who kicks open a bottle, and a genie comes out, and says, “Master, I will give you any favor you wish. But whatever I give you, your wife will get more.” The husband says he wants a Cadillac. His wife gets a Rolls Royce. The husband says he wants one million dollars. His wife gets two million. Finally the husband says, “I’d like a mild heart attack.”
Any lawyers here? I have a crack lawyer, Vincent Elkins, and one day I had this personal legal problem – the DNA test results came back – so i asked him, “Vincent, what would you charge to answer three legal questions?” He said, “That would be $500.” I said, “$500? Isn’t that a lot of money?” And he said, “No, now what’s your third question?” This reminds of the fact that 99 percent of lawyers give all the rest a bad name.
You know that there is a big flap up in North Dakota where an oil company wants to build a pipeline through an Indian reservation. TV reporters were there, government officials and, of course, lawyers. One day a brave ran to the chief’s lodge and said, “Chief, I’ve got some good new and some bad news.” The chief said, “Give me the bad news first.” The brave said, “There are 4,000 lawyers running all over the reservation.” The chief said, “That is bad news. So what’s the good news?” and the brave said, “They taste like buffalo.”
We just had an election and chose the evil of the two lessers. Taxation WITH representation isn’t so hot, either. On one hand we had Hillary Clinton, who is a bit on the dull side. When reporters asked to see her health report it turned out to be an autopsy. What do you get when you cross a crooked politician with a crooked lawyer? Chelsea. Bill Clinton is from Arkansas, where people show up at a family reunion looking for a date. At the University of Arkansas they had to cancel parents’ day due to an 80 percent chance of error. At the Governor’s mansion, in Little Rock, they put in wall to wall carpet in the bathroom. They liked it so much they ran the carpet all the way up to the house.
Thank ya, thank ya. Great crowd. Now, when George W. Bush, Bill Clinton and Donald Trump all died, they went to heaven to meet St. Peter. Bush was first, and he was told by St Peter, “This woman will be your companion for the rest of eternity.” And they brought out the ugliest woman you’ve ever seen in your life. Bush said, “Wait! I thought heaven was supposed to be a place of eternal joy.” St. Peter listened, then checked his ledger, and said, “Don’t complain, George. You barely got into heaven.” Next it was Bill Clinton’s time. St. Peter told him the same thing and brought out the twin sister of Bush’s companion. Clinton said, “This is ridiculous.” St. Peter replied: “Don’t gripe, Bill. With your record, you barely got into heaven.” Suddenly Trump came by with Taylor Swift. Bush and Clinton yelled, “How can you do this to us?” St. Peter replied, “Remember that Taylor Swift barely got into heaven.”
Incidentally, one day Jesus came back and went to Moscow, where he came upon Vladimir Putin who asked Jesus, “When will Russia be prosperous?” Jesus said, “In 400 years.” Putin started crying, and Jesus asked, “Why are you crying? I thought this would be good news.” Putin said, “I won’t live long enough to see it.” So Jesus went to London, and met with Queen Elizabeth. And she asked, ‘’Jesus, tell me, when will the royal family get out of its royal scandals?” And Jesus said, “In about a century.” The queen started crying, and Jesus asked, “Why are you crying?” The queen said, “I won’t live long enough to see it.” So Jesus came to Houston, and ran into Mayor Sylvester Turner, who asked, “Jesus, when will the Houston Texans win the Super Bowl?” And Jesus started crying. Thank ya, thank ya. And how about these kids today?
Ashby laffs at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Lynn Ashby 5 Dec. 2016
THE PC — Did you know that the Pope indorsed Donald Trump for the U.S. presidency? It must true. I read it on my social media. So did one hundred million others. Some observers say it changed the outcome of the election. And did you hear about all those paid protesters bused into Austin to break up a Trump rally? The story went (excuse the cliché) viral. Then there was the story about the ACLU suing to prevent Marines from praying.
What we have here is the newest wrinkle in social media: fake news. It’s driving legitimate news organizations nuts, not to mention the targets of such drivel. Fake news has always been around. The birthers got into it big time. I had an acquaintance from high school who would weekly send me emails showing Barack Obama was actually born in Kenya. Once he even sent me a “birth certificate” from the Royal Medical Hospital of Nairobi proving that Obama was born there. The certificate made the rounds like wildfire until it was discovered that the Royal Medical Hospital of Nairobi hadn’t opened until years later and the doctor’s signature was from someone who had died long ago. Incidentally, Donald Trump was a major force behind the birther movement, but today he just shrugs it off – like so many things, tax returns, foundation funds going to pay off lawsuits and, well, I’ve run out of space.
Fake news took on Mach speed during the last presidential election due to social media, and the lies received top priority with the truth never catching up. Mark Twain supposedly said, “A lie can travel halfway around the world before the truth can get its boots on.” He was right. At this point we must ask ourselves: who has this much extra time to write all this stuff? Don’t they have anything better to do, like Adopt a Highway? Experts say some do it just to have fun and make fools of other self-important dummies. Others do it for political reasons – backing their candidate by smearing the opponent, like the Trump and Hillary rumormongers. Some do it for money, thinking they can sell ads beside their story on Martians eating Hollywood. Two teenagers in Croatia, of all places, thought they could strike it rich by selling ads to go along with their false stories. Like any good intelligence agency, they begin with something believable, possible or true. “This coded message from Agent X says the Third Division will move at dawn. We already know this from Agents Y and Z. Agent X reports the commander is General J, good work, we thought so. Finally, he writes they will attack at Sector H. Move troops to Sector H.” And the attack hits 20 miles away at Sector F.
We now go to the next point: Who believes these fake news reports, even enough to send them on to others? A lot of otherwise very smart people. The reports are inevitably either anti-Hillary or pro-Tromp (the papal endorsement). One young man in Vancouver started sending out messages praising Hillary and beating up on Trump, and got nowhere. So he did a 180 and sent out fake pro-Trump and vicious anti-Hillary bulletins. His business leaped forward.
So we know something about the writers, but why do so many otherwise intelligent folks bite the bait? Because they want to hear all the news — that fits their preconceived notions. People believe what they want to believe. Works every time. You heard about paid protestors bused into Austin to break up a Trump rally? Trump did and used the report in speeches. But what happened, as discovered by The New York Times, is that Eric Tucker, co-founder of a marketing company, took photos of a large group of buses he saw near downtown Austin because he thought it was unusual. Then he saw reports of protests against Trump in the city and decided the two were connected. He posted three of the images with the declaration: “Anti-Trump protestors in Austin today are not as organic as they seem. Here are the busses they came in.” The busses were, in fact, hired by a company called Tableau Software, which was holding a conference that drew more than 13,000 people. Tucker’s post was shared at least 16,000 times on Twitter and more than 350,000 times on Facebook. And it was totally false. Gotcha!
Now we have this revelation: Remember all of those stories about Hillary’s health problems? Karl Rove reported that Hillary had hit her head and was out of commission for three months. That was easily checked out. A lie based on a fact. It was three days. Then there were the “rigged elections” stories. Others grabbed on to these fabrications, which Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity and Fox News repeated. The Washington Post interviewed government sources and found that the whole health situation came from – one guess – the Russians. They have 200 phony websites viewed by at least 15 million Americans. Add Facebook and the total reached 213 million of us – not me, you. The Russians had planted the stories, bit by bit, and gullible Americans bit.
An easy way to check out these items is to run them by Snopes. It’s an on-line operation that backtracks real and fake news items and seems to get the same inquiries all the time as the phony bulletins make their way around the globe. Oh, about the Marines being sued by the ACLU to prevent prayers, even accompanied by a photo of a company of Leathernecks looking down as in prayer. The ACLU said they never filed any kind of suit and had no official spokesman by the name given. The Marines said they never received any such suit, and had no spokesperson by the name given, either. I suspect the Marines in the photo looking down were searching for the Drill Instructor’s contact lens.
This just in: Donald Trump has endorsed the Pope.
Ashby fakes it at email@example.com
THE MEETING HALL – As usual, our chairman, Bottom Line, called the group to order as quick as a New York minute. “Fellow members, welcome to another meeting of Club Cliché, where the thread-bare gather to trot out all those shop-worn shibboleths, overused words and terms that were once fresh and cute but today are over-the-hill, dead as a doornail and their shelf life has expired. I see some old friends out there like Occupy Wall Street and your cousin, Wall Street to Main Street. Hi, to you, Man Up and Shovel Ready. Same for Sit Around Singing Kumbaya. I guess you are still is use, like Gravitas, Low Hanging Fruit and On the Wrong Side of History. I see Spot On and Shelf Life are still around. To all of you, I have a real surprise this time, which I shall save for later.”
Boots on the Ground spoke up. “Some of my war-time buddies are here which I’d like to introduce. There is R&R and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder better known as PTSD, which took over from Battle Fatigue and Shell Shocked. We have WMDs, which don’t exist, also Radicalized and Embolden Our Enemies.” Bottom Line nodded in approval. “I think they have more than earned their membership. Yes, you there. You have a question?”
Millennial asked: “What’s a shibboleth?”
Bottom Line answered: “You are. The word has gone through many changes over the years, but today it means jargon, inside baseball or well-worn passwords. Millennial I think qualifies. Moving on, Give a Shout Out wants to gives a shout out. To whom?
Shout Out stood up and shouted out: “WHERE’S YOU GO, GIRL?”
“Alas, You Go Girl is no longer with us, which brings us to that sad part of the meeting:
Those who have been dropped from our membership due to lack of overuse. Sorry, Boooring, you were so overused, but not anymore. Same for Wazzup? During the ebola scare, every TV news story had to get in Protocol, but ebola is not hot anymore and neither is Protocol.
“It’s not fair to kick out terms that have been beaten to death on TV,” said Breaking News. “That’s especially true for our sportscasters. Take, for example, pro hoops, the ‘Boys and ‘Stros. Not to mention the Pinstripes, frozen rope, walk-off and pick six. Don’t forget FloMoJo and basketball shots from Downtown. Our jock-talkers wouldn’t have a show without boring and repetitious clichés. We can’t even call the Super Bowl that anymore. The NFL copyrighted the name and sues anyone who uses it. Now it’s The Big Game.”
Bad Boy, Selfie and You Need a Bigger Boat applauded.
“I’ve been wondering,” asked Metrics, “what, exactly does cliché mean?”
Bottom Line explained: “It’s from the French ‘clic-chez,’ pronounced klee-SHAY, meaning ‘expressions used by the rhetorically challenged.’ Now I see Dumb Down wishes to speak.”
Dumb Down stood up. “No one uses clichés more than our politicians. I’m going to miss John Boehner, he used them constantly, like Whack-a-Mole, Adult Conversation and Nuclear Option. But we still have Gridlock and Skin in the Game. Politicians used to receive opposition, but now it’s Pushback.” Bricks & Mortar raised its hand. “I still miss Come Out of the Shadows and Corporations Are People, Too.”
Get a Life and its cousin, Get a Room, waved for attention. “That brings us to our current political deadly tattered phrases, like Make America Great Again, Nasty Women, Income Gap and Fly-Over America, which make us grit our teeth every time we hear them.” Bottom Line took over again. “This campaign has also given new life to the hated press. Drive-by Media is back. So is Liberal Press and Newt Gingrich’s favorite term, the Elite Media, which he manages to work into every sentence. Then we have the Lame Stream Media. It always gets a laugh. As for the surprise I mentioned, a big cliché welcome to Post-truth, which has been named Oxford Dictionaries’ 2016 international word of the year, wining out over a field that included Adulting, Alt-right and Brixiteer. It also beat out Coulrophobia which is an extreme or irrational fear of clowns. That term surged after that rash of reports of scary clowns.”
Multitask had a question. “Wonder whatever happened to that scary clown fad? I guess they all piled into a VW Beatle and drove off.”
Bottom Line continued. “The use of Post-truth is defined as – hang on — ‘relating to things in which objective facts mean less than appeals to emotion and personal belief.’ In other words, don’t let the truth or the facts get in the way of what you want to believe. Oxford found a 2,000 percent growth of Post-truth over last year, and – to no one’s surprise — much of this usage can be traced directly to Donald Trump supporters. They simply ignore his statements, such as he knows more about ISIS than the generals, or that unemployment is up – it’s down considerably from when Obama took office – or that he can’t release his taxes until his audit is complete – the IRS said he could release them anytime. He also said, ‘I will never settle the Trump University suit out of court.’ He did, and paid $25 million. There are more of Trump’s Post-truths, but you get the idea.”
“What’s the difference between a Post-truth and Truthiness?” asked Mojo.
“A good question,” said our leader. “Truthiness was coined by Stephen Colbert 10 years ago, and was so popular that Merriam-Webster and the American Dialect Society each chose Truthiness as its word of the year. Truthiness is a humorous way of discussing a truth or fact that is not exactly a lie, just borderline or slightly slanted. But Post-truth goes a step further, and turns outright lies into believable thoughts. Hey, some 61 million voters suspended their brains and bought Trump’s Post-truths.”
“What’s the takeaway from this?” asked Takeaway.
“The same as always,” said Bottom Line. “Avoid clichés like the plague.”
Ashby is a cliche at firstname.lastname@example.org
Did you win or lose in the recent democracy inaction? Probably both. Texas scored big, at least some did, a few bombed. The Democratic Party showed once again its ineptitude, and the much-vaunted Latino vote never manifested. Texas’s winners were the early Trump supporters including Gov. Greg Abbott, Lite Gov. Dan Patrick and Atty. General Ken Paxton. How so? President-elect Donald Trump will nominate a like-minded justice to keep the U.S. Supreme Court arch-conservative. It will overturn all those bothersome interferences from Washington dealing with Texas’ laws on abortion, voter ID, pollution, gerrymandering and the Emancipation Proclamation. Texas taxpayers will benefit by not having to continue paying multi-million dollar legal bills the state has been racking up defending our right to discriminate against those lesser mortals.
Our state legislature remains firmly in the hands of hard-line (some would say cro-Magnon) lawmakers who maintain their power to draw up new legislative and Congressional lines after the next U.S. Census when Texas will get two or more U.S. representatives. One guess as to which party will get them. Another big Texas loser is Sen. Ted Cruz, although he was mentioned as attorney general. He now will have to dismantle all those “Cruz in ‘20” banners. So will Sen. Marco Rubio who vowed not to run for the Senate again then did, and won. Let’s see, there was that other Bush, Jeb! and Rick Santorum plus a herd of hopefuls. Now their chances are gone. Winners are those who land federal positions, starting with his cabinet. Newt Gingrich was being touted as Secretary of State. Within a week we shall be at war with Finland. Jesse Sessions our next Attorney General? Hey, Hillary, you’ll look great in an orange pants suit. Among the other losers are the thousands of Obama appointees who are working on their resumes – judges, department heads, Smokey the Bear. The U.S. is the only country that replaces its ambassadors with every change in administration. Why do we do that? Campaign contributors. FBI Director James Comey was a loser no matter who won. He had the uncanny ability to chap both candidates and both sides. He’s three years into a 10-year term and can’t be fired, but Trump can confiscate Comey’s truncheon.
This brings us to the Clintons. The Oval Office’s glass ceiling remains shatter-proof. Gone are the glory days of raking in millions on the speaking tours, and the Clinton Foundation has a cracked slab. Then there is her autobiography, which is probably on hold until a publisher can be found; maybe she’ll distribute it by email. Actually, Hillary’s last book didn’t do too well, but they still have their fortune, plus all they’ll make on the Clinton Presidential Library with its admission fees, T-shirts (“It takes more than a village to support us”) and the Monica Lewinski Weight Watchers Diet Manual. Russian President Vladimir Putin won’t say he’s a winner, but has booked the Lincoln Bedroom for inauguration day. Incidentally, Trump’s speech writers have changed the presidential oath to “so help me– me.” The media are big-time losers. Trump, who calls the press “scum,” has said he wants looser libel laws so that he can sue any publication that says catty things about him. Expect the First Amendment to be put on an ice floe and pushed into an ocean that used to be the Arctic. (Global warming is a myth.) The winner is Fox News, which even now is planning a sit-com, “Good Fences.”
Big winners are late night TV comedians. No Drama Obama was eight long years of drought for comic writers. Hillary is dull, so punch lines would have been scarce. But Trump? “He learned about foreign affairs by having several of them, plus what he picked up at the International House of Pancakes. Trump thinks Siani is the plural of sinus. The West Wing will now be known as the Right Wing. But seriously, folks….” Military contractors are lining up K Street lobbyists to get some of those billions that Trump promised to spend on defense. He will pay for it by cutting out all federal funds for Planned Parenthood and public broadcasting. How many times did The Donald say, to cheering crowds, that he will build a wall along our southern border, and Mexico will pay for it? Who wants to bet it will actually be done, and if it isn’t, it’s not his fault?
Pre-voting news stories noted the heavy turnout at the polls. More early voting, long lines, etc. In fact, fewer voters cast their ballots this time than last. So much for the heavy voting hoopla. Ditto for the “sleeping giant” that was supposed to be the Latino vote. Jorge Ramos, who got in a shouting match on TV at a Trump news conference, kept boasting about how the Latino vote would decide the outcome. No way, Jorge. They voted heavily for Hillary. She lost.
Certainly big losers were the pollsters. I can’t find anyone who predicted that Trump would win so easily. The explanation is simple: voters were asked who they would vote for. Most people answered, Clinton, and they did. Hillary beat Trump in the popular votes by 1 to 2 million. But, like Al Gore, she was defeated by the Electoral College, aka, Trump University: 306 for Trump, 232 for Hillary. How can pollsters ask: Which way are your state’s Electoral College votes going to be cast? Until they figure that out, these polls are useless. The millions of Americans who voted for Trump said they want lower taxes, smaller government and fewer regulations; they are sick of being ignored by Washington, and what have you done for me lately? These are the same people who want Medicare, Social Security checks, a cop on every street corner (to regulate?) and subsidies for their biofuels. Oh, and free college education. Which is it? Some might call that blatant hypocrisy, others call it a winning formula.
Ashby wins at email@example.com