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Solomon and the Byrds had it right; There is a time to weep and a time to laugh
November 30, 2006Sorry for the “Bah humbug� blog yesterday.
But the last few days have no exactly been the merriest of times for poor little old me.
Then last night my daughter sent me a text message saying:
“Dad, I am wearing the Christmas socks you gave me.�
Last year I told her we should all make a list of 10 things we would like to do during the Christmas season.
In her message, she reminded me to start working on my list.
That’s all it took to make my day merry and bright.
Them I woke up this morning and saw the winter wonderland in my front yard.
And then I read the promise.
In my daily Bible reading -- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 -- Solomon acknowledges the cycles of life.
(If you don’t read the Bible or know who Solomon is, maybe you have at least heard the old Byrds song “Turn, Turn, Turn.�)
There is a time to sow and a time to reap.
There is a time to weep and a time to laugh.
There is a time to mourn and a time to dance. (Baptists may not like that dancing part)
There is a time to gain and a time to lose.
There is a time to be silent and a time to speak.
There is a time to love and a time to hate,
The God who controls the weather also controls the seasons of our lives.
“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.�
So just as the sun will soon reappear and melt the ice from my street, the depression I felt yesterday can quickly turn to joy.
“Dad, I am wearing the Christmas socks you gave me.�
That was my sunshine on a gloomy day.
Posted by at 8:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Blue, blue, blue Christmas
November 29, 2006We are now approximately 3 1/2 weeks away from Christmas, and I am not feeling very Christmassy.
And it’s not that I’m broke.
I’m always broke at Christmas.
I’m used to it.
We put up our Christmas tree and decorated the house the day after Thanksgiving.
That usually puts me in the spirit.
Not this year.
They say it may snow tonight.
Maybe that will put a little ho-ho-ho in this Saint Nick.
Probably not.
I just don’t really give a damn.
I took my 3-year-old grandson to “Breakfast at Santa� at the mall a couple of Saturdays ago. His mom and dad helped him write out a letter to Santa and he gave it to him when he sat on his lap.
That was cool.
But not even keep this from being -- as Elvis would say -- “a blue, blue, blue Christmas.�
I want Christmas to come and go.
I’m looking forward to Dec. 26.
Posted by at 8:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Looking for a winner? Don't ask me
November 28, 2006I guess that because I carry the title “sports editor� and regularly offer my opinions in the paper, some people out there actually think I should have the ability to pick winners.
At least a dozen times a week, someone will talk up to me and ask my opinion about a college or pro football game.
Then, I guess, they go out and bet their hard-earned money on what I say.
How stupid is that?
First of all, if I had the ability to pick winners, why would I work a job that allows me to just live a half a notch above the poverty line?
I have a job because I can’t pick winners.
And was that more evident that this week.
To find me in the paper’s college football “periscope� this week just turn to Page 3 on Friday and then head due east.
That’s my picture on the far eastern edge of the page -- behind Chris Horgen of all people.
In the NFL “periscope,� there are still two people who pick a bit worse than I do.
LOSERS
But I am still one spot east of Chris Horgen in both polls.
“Vive Paris� Horgen.
How bad is that?
My record for college football is 133-145-4.
If I had bet 100 bucks on all of those picks, I would be $2,650 in the hole.
My record for pro football is 80-92-3.
If I had been 100 bucks a game on the NFL, I would now be $2,120 loser.
Still, I had a guy a Buffalo Wild Wings come up to me last night and ask my opinion on OU-Nebraska and Cowboys-Giants.
“Well, OU has been the best team in the Big 12 since its loss to Texas. And I don’t think the Nebraska defense can stop the running game behind that OU offensive line. I like OU minus 4.�
“And with Tony Romo, the Cowboys are much, much better than they were last month when they lost to the Giants at home. And the Giants have a lot of injuries and a lot of problems. They are coming off one of the great fourth-quarter collapses in NFL history. Take Dallas and give 3 1/2.�
Then I asked the guy: “Do you read the paper? Don’t you know I’m the guy just about east of everything?�
“Sure,� he answered. “That’s why I’m going to bet on Nebraska and the Giants.�
Smart fellow.
Posted by at 8:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)
Nov. 22, 1963: The day our world changed
November 22, 2006Nov. 22, 1963.
It was the day our world changed.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy was the hope of the future -- a president who would protect us from the crazy dictators of the communist world and would finally bring every American those “unalienable rights� that our Declaration of Independence had promised us.
The Kennedy smile.
The unpresidential sense of humor.
The sexy wife.
JFK brought a new hope to this country.
And now he was dead -- shot in the head as he rode in a motorcade down Elm Street in Dallas.
Yes -- Dallas.
This was supposed to be a day that Texas would show its adoration and respect for this young, vibrant hero of a president.
Instead, we killed him.
Just what followed in the next two decades.
Lyndon Johnson was helpless in saving us from Vietnam.
Richard Nixon was a crook.
Gerald Ford pardoned Nixon the crook.
Jimmy Carter was weak and ineffective.
Plus, the assassination of JFK had a domino effect.
It gave false courage to other cowards.
Martin Luther King was gunned down in Memphis.
Bobby Kennedy -- the presidential favorite of 1968 -- was shot to death in California.
Those last two assassinations probably would not have ever happened if JFK had not be killed.
So, where were you when you heard JFK had been assassinated?
It has now been 43 years since that day, so most of you reading this weren’t even born
I was eating lunch at Wichita Falls High when I heard that he had been shot.
Then in the typing class that followed, the news blared out from the PA system.
“President Kennedy is dead.�
Those four words changed my life.
They changed my country.
They changed my world.
Posted by at 8:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Happy birthday to me!
November 21, 2006I turned 60 in a bar today -- drinking Bud Light and playing poker.
I celebrated they day -- rather than mourned about it.
And the celebration will continue tonight -- 7 p.m. Ruby Tequilas.
If you want to join in -- the drinks are on you.
OK, I’m getting old, but what the hell?
So are you.
Stick around long enough and you’ll turn 60.
Believe me, it’s not that bad.
Today is also Goldie Hawn’s birthday.
She is a year older than me.
Who’s sexier?
Check out Goldie at
\http://www.poster.net/hawn-goldie/hawn-goldie-photo-goldie-hawn-6204194.jpg
Check out Nicky at
http://blogs.scripps.com/trn/n_gholson/2006/06/bs_baby_stupidity_1.html
Cher also turned 60 this year.
Who’s sexier?
Her --- http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/54/039_17562~Cher-Posters.jpg
Or me? http://blogs.scripps.com/trn/n_gholson/2006/06/bs_baby_stupidity_1.html
Maybe that’s not fair.
I am the only one in my underwear.
Nov. 21 is really not a day for famous birthdays.
Other than Goldie and me, about the most famous person to share our birthday is Troy Aikman.
Troy turned 40 today.
Yeah, I know, that’s hard to believe.
Stan Musial, the seven-time National League batting champion, is celebrating his 86th birthday today.
Marlo Thomas -- “That Girl� -- is 62.
I could find nobody famous (except me) born on Nov. 21, 1946.
There was an actress named Pam Freeman, whose claim to fame is being in one episode of the Phyllis Diller Show on TV in 1966.
Other than that, the only “famous� people born on the same day as me were a Spanish actress, a Danish actress, a Belgian actress and an English actress -- none whom I have ever heard of -- and a Czech feminist who probably thinks Goldie is sexier than me in my underwear.
The most famous event to happen on the day that I was born was Harry Truman became the first U.S. president to travel in a submerged submarine. That would be big news on CNN today, but back then, it probably didn’t get more than a couple of paragraphs on the back page of your daily newspaper.
The most famous death on Nov. 21 was Max Baer, who died on Nov. 21, 1959 at the age of 49. Max Baer was a heavyweight boxing champion and the father of “Jethro Bodine.�
The most famous event to happen on my birthday came in 1980 -- The “Who Shot J.R.?� episode of “Dallas,� which drew a TV rating of 53.3 percent.
The year 1946 was also the birth of Las Vegas.
Bugsy opened the Flamingo hotel and casino the day after Christmas that year.
It was also the year that the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life� was released.
That movie received five Oscar nominations, including Jimmy Stewart for best actor.
But it won nothing.
“The Lost Weekend� was named the best movie.
Posted by at 9:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
What we need are more cooks and fewer kooks because I prefer my fried chicken dead
November 17, 2006The PETA kooks have done gone and killed Col. Sanders.
It happened in the City of Brotherly Love a few days ago.
They soaked him in blood and hung the old colonel from a scaffolding outside of one of his own KFCs in Philadelphia.
And let a giant chicken cut his throat.
It all happened underneath a banner saying:
“KFC Cuts Live Animals’ Throats�
While the giant chicken was doing an O.J. on the Colonel, PETA members handed out leaflets to passersby informing them that more than 850 million chickens are raised and killed for KFC each year.
Make mine a three-piece white -- original recipe.
Mashed potatoes and gravy on the side.
If it’s not bad enough that the Colonel’s own people have stripped him of his famous white suit jacket, now PETA kooks are branding him as a mass murderer of chickens.
I guess that also makes Popeye, George Church and Greg Stockton all chicken murderers.
Throw my dead grandma in there, too. She has wringed the necks of many a chicken to make our Sunday dinner.
Since I prefer my chickens dead and fried. So I’m siding with the Colonel, Popeye, George, Greg and grandma on this one.
If PETA can find a way of frying chicken without killing the bird, then I will listen.
What I won’t listen to is crap like this:
“Chicken raised and killed for KFC are drugged and bred to grow so large that many become crippled under their own weight. Many have their throats slit while they are still conscious and are scalded to death in de-feathering tanks. KFC ignored the recommendations of members of its own animal welfare advisory panel, including five who have since resigned in frustration.
"To 850 million chickens and kind people worldwide, KFC means Kentucky Fried Cruelty. If KFC executives abused cats or dogs -- or even pigs or cows -- the way that they abuse chickens, they could be thrown in prison on felony charges of cruelty to animals."
That’s the PETA kooks’ story.
I like chicken cooks better than PETA kooks.
Harlan Sanders is not Henry Lee Lucas.
He was a guy who owned a gas station in Corbin, Ky. He used to serve chicken dinners in the living quarters of his station.
His chicken dinners became so popular that he expanded to a motel and restaurant that seated 142 people. He worked as the cook and perfected the method of cooking chicken in pressure cooker using 11 herbs and spices.
In 1935, the governor gave him the honorary title of “Kentucky Colonel.� He used it to promote himself and his chicken
The Colonel died 26 years ago, but his chicken remains “finger lickin’ good.�
Posted by at 8:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Tee time in Heaven
November 16, 2006I am going to visit my friend Mike today.
It will be the last time we see each other this side of Heaven.
That was the way I planned to start this blog.
But Mike Lester died this morning a few hours before my scheduled visit.
So the words I had planned to say to him will now be said to you.
I believe we are created in the image of God.
That does not mean God has a mouth, a nose, two eyes and two ears.
God is spirit.
We are spirit.
Our bodies are just earthly containers for the spirit.
They allow us to communicate and do the things we need to do in this life.
The body wears out. The spirit doesn’t.
I believe Jesus Christ is exactly who he said he was -- God’s spirit in human form.
He gave us an example of how to live and how to die.
When Jesus died, the Bible says his spirit was released.
The same thing happened in that hospital room at 5 a.m. today.
Mike’s spirit was released.
I believe in John 3:16.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, so that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
Mike Lester did not die this morning.
He just went on ahead to the next stage of his life.
What is Heaven?
I don’t really know.
But here is a picture that Mike would have understood.
Imagine the beauty of Pebble Beach and Augusta National.
Now multiply that by 10,000.
I had planned to tell him that today.
God had other plans.
Posted by at 8:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)
James Bond just not James Bond without Sean Connery, Oddjob and Pussy Galore
November 15, 2006I haven’t been to a James Bond movie since “Thunderball� in 1965.
And that was a year too long.
The very best of the Bond movies came out in 1964.
After “Goldfinger� in 1964, it just hasn’t been the same.
Jill Masterson’s golden corpse.
Oddjob and his flying hat.
Pussy Galore.
It just didn’t get any better than that.
“Goldfinger� was the blueprint for Bond movies.
But the 17 that have followed it just couldn’t get there.
The budget for “Goldfinger� was $3.5 million. The box office exceeded $124 million.
“Casino Royale,� the latest Bond movie coming out this week, had a budget of $150 million
“Goldfinger� was the first Bond movie to be shown on U.S. television. At the time (Sept. 17, 1972), it drew the highest Nielsen Ratings for any film with 49 percent of the viewers.
Although I quit going to Bond movies 41 years ago, I have seen most of them on TV.
Sean Connery was James Bond.
The five guys who followed him were mere imposters.
Roger Moore wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t Bond.
Pierce Brosnan was Remington Steele.
But the James Bond movies aren’t really about 007 as much as they are about the characters that surround him.
When you boss is named “M� and his secretary is named Moneypenny, how cool is that?
And here are just a few of my favorite Bond characters over the years:
Honey Ryder.
Pussy Galore.
Oddjob.
Kissy Suzuki.
Plenty O’Toole.
Tee Hee Johnson.
Mary Goodnight.
Nick Nack.
Agent Triple X (a woman).
Dr. Holly Goodhead
Bibi Dahl.
Octopussy.
May Day.
Xenia Onatopp.
The more I think about it, the more I think I want to go see “Casino Royale.�
Daniel Craig is no Sean Connery.
And there is no Pussy Galore or Holly Goodhead.
But it is “Bond, James Bond� playing Texas Hold ’Em -- that should be interesting.
Posted by at 9:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
A Better Idea: Let's ban Elton John
November 14, 2006Elton John wants to “ban religion completely.�
I’ve got a better idea.
Let’s ban Elton John.
Hey, I will give this guy his due -- he put out some great music from 1971 to 1976.
“Levon�
“Tiny Dancer�
“Rocket Man�
“Honky Cat�
“Crocodile Rock.�
“Daniel.�
“Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting.�
“Candle in the Wind.�
“Bennie and the Jets.�
“Philadelphia Freedom.�
“Pinball Wizard.�
“Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.�
Elton John was no one-hit wonder.
But you have to wonder what has happened the last 30 years.
It’s been a long, long time since this guy has written a decent song.
If you can name any song that Elton John has written since 1976, then you are a huge fan, and you need to stop reading this right now. All I’m going to do is piss you off.
This chubby little 60-year-old fruit now wants to rid the world of religion because he says it promotes hatred toward gay people.
My religion preaches to love your neighbor as you love yourself.
That’s hatred?
OK, I admit Christianity has its share of phony baloney preachers who spew hate from the pulpit, yet don’t practice what they preach.
But please, don’t judge Jesus Christ by the hypocrites that he himself publicly exposed when he walked this earth.
Come clean, Elton.
You just don’t want anyone to tell you your lifestyle is wrong.
None of us do.
But just because I get a speeding ticket doesn’t mean I should jump up on a soapbox and declare that we should ban the highway patrol.
So, Elton, instead of criticizing my religion, maybe you should join us.
Get down on you knees and pray.
Give thanks to God that an old, ugly over-the-hill entertainer can still get booked at Caesars Palace and get people to pay 250 bucks a ticket to see my sing 30-year-old songs.
Amen!
Posted by at 9:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Welcome to automated telephone hell. Press 1.
When I got my monthly toy bill for $6,996,131.31, and my checking account balance is now $36, I had to call and complain.
"Thank you for calling TX-ScrewU Cable, Cell Phone, Internet and Other Crap.
Where we remain dedicated to extracting every nickel out of you we can get.
"For quality control reasons, this call may be monitored or recorded."
Now what the heck does that mean? If I start dropping F bombs and S missiles during this call, will someone come on and threaten to come wash my mouth out with soap?
Or will they send the CD to my pastor?
Or even worse, to Pope Robert?
"If you want this call in English, press 1.
"For Spanish, press 2.
"For Orthodox Greek, press 3.
"For Trinidad and Tobago, press 4.
"For Pig Latin, press 5.
"Or if you want me to shut up and you just guess what I'm saying, press 6.
I thought about pressing 5 and later wished I had pressed 6. But I pressed 1.
"For automated account balance or other general information, press 1.
"For billing information or other additional info, press 2
"To order new service or add to your existing service, press 3
"To report problems or get technical assistance, press 4
"To disconnect your service or remove features from your service, press 5
"To just piss and moan and have your F-bombs monitored, press 6
"To receive information on hemorroid removal, press 7
"To have your prostate checked, press 8
"To have a full lobotomy, press 9
"To listen to all this again in Pig Latin or Orthodox Greek, press 0."
OK now, I'm confused, but since my bill is for more than $6 million and I have $36 in my checking account, I press 2. And later realized I should have pressed 6.
Now I hear
"This call is being transferred to an automated service."
AUTOMATED SERViCE, MY A.- - !
What do you think I'm been getting?
Now a new, older automated voice comes on the line and whispers.
"For billing and payment information, press 1.
(Didn't I press 2 the last time for this?"
"To report an outage, press 4.
(If she had said OURAGE, I might have done it.)
"To transfer your call to a service representative, press 0."
(I would probably have better luck trying to reach the House of Representatives.)
But I press 1.
Now some woman starts shouting at me in a deep, loud voice.
'FOR BILLING INFORMATION, PRESS 1"
(This is the third time I have been told this.)
'FOR A DESCRIPTION OF YOUR BILLING STATEMENT, PRESS 2."
Now, I really want to shout back F.
But I hold pack and simply press 1
"You have pressed an invalid numberl. Please try again."
So I press 1.
"Sorry we can't handle your call at this time. Please call again."
No thanks, I'd rather take that prostate test.
Posted by at 8:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
What you want, Baby I got; What you need. Do you know I got it?
November 10, 2006I woke up this morning feeling a whole lot more ethical than I did yesterday.
In fact, I am one ethical guy.
I am overflowing with ethicticity.
You need compassion? I’ve got it.
Courage? I’m one courageous fellow.
Excellence? Did you ever doubt?
Fairness? You bet.
Integrity? I’m your guy.
Respect? R-e-s-p-e-c-t -- Find out what it means to me. R-e-s-p-e-c-t -- Take are TCB. Sock it to me, Sock it to me. Sock it to me.
Those five things are the Code of Ethics for the E.W. Scripps Company.
And I am one company guy.
When E.W. talks, I listen.
So I sat through a three-hour ethics presentation Thursday and walked out the door singing:
“Glory, glory, hallelujah,
“His truth is marching on.�
Sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me.
In all seriousness, every company needs a Code of Ethics -- and this newspaper business certainly does.
I am worked up close and personal with some of the most unethical people to ever have a byline.
When you underpay talented people -- like the newspaper business always has -- those people are going to be tempted into taking dollar bills under the table.
And then there are the Jason Blairs of the world.
But don’t think plagiarism and lying only happens in the New York Times.
I can remember when it happened big time here at the Wichita Falls Times.
The paper sent a reporter -- a graduate of the University of Texas school of journalism -- to Paris, Texas, to cover a big tornado.
He came back, put his byline on an Associated Press story, and handed it in.
He didn’t even re-write the lead paragraph.
It was his last day on the job.
I am glad that my company stresses ethics.
It spends lots of money putting together presentations like I sat through yesterday.
But truth is all we really needed was to write the Golden Rule on a chalkboard.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
That’s an ethics course in 11 words.
Posted by at 9:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
'Law and Order" died with Jerry Orbach
November 9, 2006I used to be a big “Law and Order� fan.
I watched the original one, the Criminal Intent one, the Special Victims Unit one, the Trial by Jury one and the six spinoffs with other names.
Heck, if they had come up with Law and Order: Meter Maids Division, I would watch that.
Even though Lennie Briscoe changed partners more often than he changed underwear, I still watched.
I endured two police captains, two district attorneys, seven assistant DAs and four Manhattan DA bosses.
I loved the musical introduction and the quiet ending.
I even liked the corny jokes.
But I am not alone.
You don’t reach a 17th season -- like “Law and Order� has now done -- unless you’ve got a show worth watching.
Three more years and you’re in “Gunsmoke� company.
That shouldn’t happen.
“Law and Order� should have ended two years ago.
There should not have been a 16th season or a 17th season.
If you’ve got to scratch a “Law and Order� itch, just flip over to some cable station.
It became a 24-hour series until now that old CSIs are starting to get a lot more cable air time.
“Law and Order� died when Lennie Briscoe died.
This show should have signed off when Jerry Orbach died of prostate cancer on Dec. 28, 2004.
This was a show with no character stability had one stable one in Lennie Briscoe.
He showed up in the third season and stayed on through season 14.
If you remember, before becoming a regular on the show, Orbach once played the role of a defense attorney in season 2.
Guys like me will always remember Jerry Orbach as Lennie Briscoe, but this guy had a distinguished acting career that started on Broadway before going to movie and TV.
The day after he died, the marquees on Broadway dimmed in tribute to him.
It was one of the highest honors an actor can receive.
Now television show honor Orbach’s memory by canceling all “Law and Order� shows.
They aren’t the same without him.
Posted by at 8:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Encore: I ggot gscrewed gin gthe gspelling gbee.
November 8, 2006Today is a busy day for me.
With football season and basketball season intertwining, I’ve got an unusually large Wednesday workload. And to make things worse, I am once again competing in the Adult Literacy Council spelling bee.
With that in mind, I am running an encore of a spelling bee blog I wrote last spring.
It is one of my personal favorites.
Although you probably can't tell it by reading 21st Century Nicky, I used to be a pretty good speller.
No, I never made it to the big dance in Washington, D.C., but I made it to the study hall stage at Reagan Junior High School. In the spring of 1960, I was second place in the Reagan spelling bee.
Some Barbie doll won it.
I remember at the end, when it came down to Nicky vs. Barbie, she tried to distract me by crossing her legs and giving me a small glimpse of adorable flesh.
I sat there trying to go over all the possible hard words in my mind, but what kept popping into my mind would not be found in my little Scripps spelling book.
No, Iwantolickyouallover was not in the book.
Neither was Pleaseletmeseeyourunderwear.
I became so distracted that I missed on a four-letter word.
Now, most teen-age boys are very affluent in four-letter word spellings.
But Barbie won when I spelled "gnat" -- "nat."
Heck, I could have spelled Antidisestablishmentarianism that day, but the little blonde teaser beat me because I missed "gnat."
Why the hell is a "g" in "gnat?"
I mean we don't spell "cat" "gcat."
We don't spell "rat" "grat."
"It's a silent letter," my teacher told me.
I know about silent letters.
I have one in my last name -- the "h" in "Gholson" -- and it has haunted me all my life.
"How do you pronounce your name," I am always asked.
"Just leave out the 'h,' " I always answer.
Why didn't the people who came up with our name leave out the stupid "h?"
Although I was almost a champion speller in my day, I'm not going to watch the spelling bee finals on TV tonight.
Just don't think my old gheart can take such excitement.
P.S.: Thanks to those who responded to my Tuesday blog. I appreciate your readership.
Posted by at 8:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Your vote doesn't make a difference
November 7, 2006“Your vote makes a difference.�
It’s the great American lie.
I have been voting for 38 years now. I believe in voting. I try to vote in every election.
But my vote has never made a difference.
The only way that could happen is if an election were decided by one vote.
And never in my lifetime has that ever happened.
So Kinky won’t be governor just because I went to the polls today.
And Willie Nelson won’t be lieutenant governor or Joe Brown won’t be secretary of agriculture just because I wrote them in.�
Up until a few years ago, I used to write in Ham Vance on the ballot for elections that I didn’t know anything about or care anything about.
If you don’t know who Ham Vance was, ask you Daddy.
My presidential voting record is: 5-5
After starting out 0-2 with Humphrey (1968) and McGovern (1972), I finally won with Jimmy Carter in 1976,
But I lost with Carter in 1980. Won with Reagan in 1984. Won with Daddy Bush in 1988; Lost with Bush in 1992. Lost with Dole in 1996; Won with George W in 2000 and 2004.
Knowing what I know today this is how I would have voted.
1968: Humphrey.
1972: McGovern
1976: Carter
1980: Reagan
1984: Reagan
1988: Bush
1992: Clinton
1996: Clinton
2000: G.W.
2004: G.W.
You can see that I admit my mistakes.
And although I am not a fan of G.W., I certainly wouldn’t have wanted Gore or Kerry running this country.
I would like to see the paper go back over the last 20 years or so and take back some of the endorsements it has handed out.
Some of this is done by an editorial board here conducting one-on-one interviews with the candidates.
The paper screw up a lot, and one of the reasons is these interviews are sort of like college entrance tests. Some good candidates just don’t interview well because of nervousness or other things. Some smart kids don’t do well on those stupid tests.
But when I checked out the endorsements on our editorial page today, I noticed that nothing changed from the endorsements we ran a couple of weeks back.
These are our mistakes and we’re sticking to it.
Not me.
I gave you some really stupid endorsements.
I had a brain fart back in October when I told you I was going for all those Democrats.
Sorry, but this Shirley Pelosi chick just scares the living hell out of me.
We don’t need to be giving this witch any kind of power.
So except for Kinky for governor, Willie for lieutenant governor and Good old Joe for ag commissioner, all of my other votes are going to Republicans.
I have also changed my opinion on the school bond issue.
I think I have a better idea for the schools than the people running the WFISD, but no good grandpa could vote against fixing our schools.
I will vote “yes� on the school bond issue.
This is blog No. 144 for me.
There may not be a No. 145.
I enjoy getting away from the being “the sports guy� and writing these things.
I devote a lot of time and energy into writing blogs, but I don’t think a lot of people read them.
If you are out there, let me know.
If I get a lot of feedback, I will see you tomorrow. If not, goodbye. It has been fun.
Posted by at 8:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)
You don't have to call me darling, darling; But if you want to, that's OK with me, honey
November 3, 2006“Just picking up, sweetie?’
This 20-something babe smiled at me.
Once again, she was wearing those hip-hugger jeans that show off the back dimples of an A-plus butt.
“Just picking up, sweetie?’ she asked again when I didn’t answer the first time just so I could hear her say it again.
I said “yes� and guess what?
She asked for my phone number.
I would have given her my Social Security number, all of my credit card numbers, my email address, my home address and my Christmas wish list -- all she had to do was smile and ass -- I mean ask.
I gave her my phone number. She brought my dry cleaning.
“Thanks, sweetie.�
I left the cleaners drive-thru thinking:
Maybe my driver’s license is wrong.
Maybe I was born in 1976, not 1946.
And maybe there’s something wrong with that mirror in my bathroom.
Maybe I still have really long hair and a flat belly.
That bald guy with the beer gut -- he’s not really me but only what you would see in a carnival funhouse.
I’m a real stud-muffin.
Mmmmmmmmm.
Maybe I should go back and get that chick’s phone number.
Instead, I stop at the convenience story to get more coffee.
The girl at the checkout counter smiles and says:
“Good morning, sweetie!�
(I’m going to change mirrors this afternoon.)
I put my 16-ounce cup of coffee on the counter, and the girl asks:
“is this going to be all for you today, honey?�
(Am I really Nick Gholson or do I have somebody else’s driver’s license?)
I pay for the coffee, and she says:
“Thanks, darling, come back and see us.�
It’s those damn terrorists.
They’ve poisoned our beer or done something to brainwash American men into thinking we’re 30 years older than we really are.
Not only am I going to buy new mirrors for every room in my house, I’m going to go out to that DPS office and demand a new driver’s license.
Then I’m going back and drop off some more dry cleaning.
After that, I’ll stop off at the convenience story for a six-pack.
OK, I know these young girls aren’t hitting on me.
I know they are just showing respect for their elders.
But can’t a old guy at least dream a little?
Posted by at 8:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Latest poll says polls are a waste of space
November 2, 2006Back in the good old days, journalism teachers taught us that newspaper space is a precious commodity. We were taught not only to write stories using the fewest words possible, but also the fewest letters.
So you see why I get irritated when I see prime Page 1 space in my paper wasted on dumb ass stories two days in a row.
Polls for the most part are a useless waste of time and energy -- and that was never as evident as in the two stories that showed up on our front pages Wednesday and Thursday.
The Wednesday one had a seductive headline:
“Strip sexy myths�
Get the words strip and sexy side-by-side in a headline, and you can bet I will be trapped into reading the story.
I even jumped over to Page 6A to read the conclusion of the story when I saw the jump line asked me to “Please See Sex on Page 6A.�
The story was completely moronic and useless.
A British medical journal conducted a poll in which it was concluded that promiscuity in Africa is not the main cause of the rapid spread of sexual diseases in that country.
Being stupid and poor is the real cause of the AIDs problem.
But I’m betting if you’re stupid, poor and promiscuous, the odds really go up.
I is smart.
Didn’t need a medical journal or a poll to figure that out.
The study also found that most people still lose their virginity between the ages of 15 and 19.
And married people still have sex more frequently than single people.
The poll, however, didn’t say that married people were having more good sex.
OK, now to the really dumb poll that was printed on the front page of our paper today.
This one was conducted by Scripps Howard News Service.
Maybe we figured we had no choice but to run this story on Page 1 because we are a Scripps paper.
The headline read:
“Belief in torture, spanking linked�
The survey of 1,031 American adults concluded that people who think it’s OK to spank kids “are twice as likely to support the use of torture on suspected terrorists than are people who oppose spanking.�
I believe in spanking. And I don’t care if we hang terrorists by their toenails and pour rubbing alcohol on their scrotums for 24 hours at a time.
So, I guess the survey is correct.
But what is wrong about this is that it links spanking to torture.
You can easily read into this that parents who spank their kids are torturing them or would torture them.
“Spare the rod and spoil the child.�
I believe that.
I spanked my kids because I loved them. But I would never “torture� them.
But Osama Bin Butthead?
Pass the rubbing alcohol, please.
Posted by at 8:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Whatever happened to Sharon Ann?
November 1, 2006We were boyfriend and girlfriend in the Summer of 1958.
I was 11. She was 12.
We went to movies together.
We went swimming together.
We went to the park together.
We hugged. We kissed. We played a little touchy-feely.
Then we broke up.
A few days after the break-up, I walked over to her house to kiss and make up.
Her grandmother said he had gone on vacation.
The next week school started.
She wasn’t there.
Nobody knew why.
Then one day I saw a short story in the newspaper where a local cab driver had been charged with statutory rape of a 12-year-old girl.
I knew his name. I still remember his name.
He was a friend of her dad and had given us free cab rides to the movies, to the swimming pool and to the park.
Sharon Ann never came back to school.
About 10 years later, I was shooting pool and drinking beer in a downtown bar called “The Cave.�
The barmaid who waited on me kept smiling at me.
I knew her from somewhere but just couldn’t remember where.
“Do I know you?� I asked.
“Maybe,� she replied.
“Where do I know you from?� I asked again.
“You figure it out,� she smiled.
Later that night, I tossed and turned trying to remember who this chick was.
Then everything clicked.
I remembered those deep dark brown eyes.
I rushed to “The Cave� that next evening and there she was.
When she came to my table, I said, “Hi, Sharon Ann.�
She smiled, brought me a beer and then put her arm around my neck and whispered in my ear.
“Please, don’t tell anyone.�
I asked her out after work. She said “no.�
The next night she wasn’t at the bar.
I never saw her again.
I have kept her secret for almost 40 years.
Until today.
But every time I read another story in the paper about some pervert molesting a child, I think about Sharon Ann and the pain and embarrassment she had to live with all these years.
And I wonder what ever happened to her.
Did she meet her Prince Charming and live happily ever after?
Or did she wind up sleeping in a cardboard box and turning $5 tricks to support her crack habit?
I’m hoping it was Prince Charming.
But I’ll probably never know.
Posted by at 8:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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