Why is Wal-Mart in the news ... again?

I just learned that an anonymous source at some anonymous Wal-Mart some-anonymous-where has confirmed rumors that it will be the newest outlet for the iPhone.

Wal-Mart? Really!? Again, I say it -- oh shit, oh dear.

Apple could make no announcement more calculated to bring me feelings of ... well, ambivalence, at best, but more like feelings of mild disgust. An announcement that the iPhone can work on any network, that I'd greet with glad tidings of great joy.

The fact that Wal-Mart may soon carry iPhones doesn't change my opinion about Wal-Mart; nor will it make it more likely I'll willingly set foot inside one. Rather, it cheapens the allure of owning an iPhone of my very own.

I'll have to cop to being a fan of Apple computers. While it would stretch the truth to call me an original fan, I did once own an Apple IIe and, in the late 1980s, I learned the basics of Pagemaker (a version of it with none of those annoying suffixes) on a cool, boxy Apple Macintosh SE.

Indeed, for a while there in the late 1990s, our home computer was a genuine, first-generation Mac, albeit one hopped up with a screaming-fast 4 meg of RAM, a versatile 800k internal drive and two powerful external 40 meg hard drives. We still have most of the pieces it on a shelf in the garage, right next to the old black Underwood typewriter.

Today, I couldn't survive professionally without my MacBook, our home computer is a 17" lamp-shade iMac and I really like the music on my 80-gig iPod (and for some reason, this fact fills me with surprised delight). It is only by main force of will that I've managed to refrain from putting one of those discreet white Apple logos on the rear window of my conservative black Buick.

I'd already have an iPhone but, alas, the folks that provide exclusive cellular service for it isn't kind to the part of the world where I live. Their signal's spotty out here in the hinterlands of Milam County.

So, I deal with it. No iPhone for now. Maybe later. But I wonder if anyone else sees the irony in this ... that the average Wal-Mart shopper will soon have easy access to one of the coolest personal computers ever made (if you wonder what I might think of that, see the immediately previous post).

Wal-Mart shoppers

I am not a Wal-Mart shopper. In fact, except for our nine-month exile in Marble Falls, I've pretty much stayed away from Wally World and that's hard to do in our part of the country.

So, I wasn't close to a Wal-Mart last week when a contract employee at a Long Island store was trampled to death after he opened the doors to a tidal surge of Black Friday shoppers. And here I thought the South had a monopoly on that sort of Wal-Mart crowd.

It's not that I don't like shopping in big, soul-sucking steel boxes. After all, I braved the Black Friday crowds in search of a bargain on an elusive 37" flat screen LCD HiDef television. While I love to shop for electronics, I really don't like those kinds of intense, high stakes shopping excursions.

I tracked down that tv to Best Buy, a big, soul-sucking steel box. Saved 200 bucks on that sucker and I'll probably go back for the BlueRay thingy and the home theater system every large, flat-screen tv machine screams for (yes, I can hear it screaming -- in perfect counterpoint to the voices in my head -- and it wants digital sound ... ).

So, no, it's not Wal-Mart's big, soul-sucking steel box. It's that I'm politically, economically and morally opposed to Wal-Mart and have been for for a dozen years or so, long before Black Friday became a blood sport for intrepid Wal-Mart shoppers.

Given my background as a publisher of small, weekly newspapers, I could sing chorus after chorus on the evils of Wally World. It destroys local, mom-and-pop businesses, it drives down the cost of labor, most of its employees are on welfare, it imports most of its cheap, shoddy merchandise from China*, will not seriously advertise in local newspapers (a deadly sin, in my book).

Well, as I said, I could go on. And on. And on. But I won't.

But I do wonder this ... not about Wal-Mart but about what happened this Black Friday past and what it says about us. The poor fella in Long Island wasn't the only shopping-related fatality that day. There was at least one other and a dozen or so reported injuries.

Will the reporting on future Black Fridays include a death toll? Is this destined to become our uniquely American version of soccer game riots? This is only the second or third Black Friday I've been involved with (well, as a consumer, that is) and I found the experience less than satisfying. Except for the part about saving 200 bucks. That was satisfying.

Much like I avoid Wal-Mart, I think I will avoid Black Friday in the future. It seems to speak to a dank, dark part of the American psyche that is best left to the professionals like Stephen King to write about. Stephen King scares me so I'll not be seeing you in the soul-sucking steel box next Black Friday.

Unless I can save 200 bucks ... in which case, I'm there!


(*Wait a minute ... considering how much we've borrowed from the Chinese ... and how much Wal-Mart buys from them, does that mean Wal-Mart is the new General Motors [as in "What's Good for Wal-Mart is Good For America]? oh, shit, oh dear ... I"ll have to explore THAT pernicious concept in another post ... shudder.)

lolfed

I stole this from Paul Krugman's blog. Too funny, in a sad sort of way. guess you either laugh or you cry ...

but, as Krugman said, cats are cuter.

Smokers' Guilt

It's that time, again. Smokers' Guilt Week. Oh, joy.

Know how I know? Two ways, is how I know.

Let's see ... there's Thanksgiving when we go spend the day at the in-law's. Where they love you very much (and you love them) but you get gently reproving looks every time you duck out for a cigarette. Where this great raft of squealing, impressionable kids dart around and through the house and you know you know you’re the only adult to reek of stale cigarettes. Where every one of the lovely people there would be horrified to think you might feel even the tiniest hint of reprobation for indulging in this nasty habit.

Then, there's the Great American Smokeout. For more than 30 years, there's been this society-spanning effort to encourage, cajole and enable smokers to quit for Just One Day And You'll See. As if quitting for one day is a big deal for a smoker with a 40-year habit, though we do appreciate -- well, kinda-sorta but we're touched, thank you -- everyone's kind thoughts.

Ultimately, from a committed smoker's standpoint, the Great American Smokeout is little more than a non-(and worse, former-)smokers' expression of self-indulgent pity for a committed smokers' great addiction. Weak, Stone, you're weak!

Like I said. Smokers' Guilt Week.

But, here's what really pisses me off.

Eight weeks ago, I quit smoking. Eight weeks ago. To my own disquieted amazement, it's been relatively painless. Granted, I haven't quit on my own. I get by with a little help from my friends (better living through chemistry, don'cha know). Plus, Tia Rae and I are doing this together and there is strength in numbers after all (quantity has a quality all its own).

But, it’s been easy. Maybe too easy. I’ve tried to quit before and it was hard. Several times, and it was hard. I’ve gone without – a plane flight to Alaska means 8-10 hours without; to London means 10-12 hours without – and it was hard. Very hard. Why is this so easy?

I didn’t really want to quit. I mean, there’s been no transformative event to shape this decision, no health quandary prompting a sudden move to wellness. In fact, even with all my bad habits -- my love of red wine, Mexican lagar and agave tequila, Blue Bell ice cream over pie (any fresh fruit inside a flaky pastry crust will do) and and barely-seared red meat – I passed my 50-year medical checkup with my colors displayed proudly, if not flying high.

And, I’m not broke so the expense wasn’t the issue — though I’m no longer on a first name basis with the gals at the Hilltop CEFCO and we don’t burn through cash quite as quickly each month.

I know I should be proud, and justifiably so, of both of us. I can't speak for her but I’m not. I’m pissed. I want a cigarette. I know I don’t really “need” one but I want one. Further, as long as my little friends* are swirling through my brain and bloodstream, I don’t even feel the pleasurable effects of smoking a cigarette. I know. I’ve tried! Didn't do a goddam thing! Dammit!

So, I’m still addicted and I still want a cigarette, dammit, but I’ve quit. And it really pisses me off.

Smokers' Guilt Week. Bah!

We’ll go to the in-laws’ for Thanksgiving on Thursday. I won’t say anything about our new non-smoking status (Tia Rae might but, then again, she might not) so no one will likely make a big deal about it unless they notice that I don’t duck out and don’t reek. And, even if they do notice, they will be gracious and generous and encouraging and proud and it'll PISS. ME. OFF.

Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy the Smokeout. Dammit.

*Before you start reaching for conclusions, I should probably note that I am taking Chantix under a doctor’s care. Perhaps I should discuss a Xanax prescription as well.

Finalists, schmienalists.

The Rockdale Reporter published a fine editorial in Thursday's edition slamming the Texas Association of School Boards for doing an end-run around Texas' open government laws.

TASB is helping the Rockdale School Board find a new school superintendent. RISD has 49 applicants. Of that number, they've decided to talk to six and expect to offer the job to one of those six on Dec. 10. Despite the fact that state law requires that a list of finalists be released to the public, Rockdale voters will know the name of only the person RISD trustees select.

Aren't the six people trustees will interview "finalists?" No, they are "candidates." Only one "finalist" will be announced. This follows the letter -- if not the spirit -- of state law. Go look it up -- Section 552.126 of the Texas Government Code.

Down in Karnes County, the Runge school board is doing the same thing. In fact, it's getting harder and harder to find information about the people who are applying for many top government management jobs.

Again, in Karnes County, county commissioners retired to executive session to interview interim candidates for the brand spanking new position of county road administrator, despite the fact that the county never advertised for the position as required by state law. I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out the relationship between those four applicants and the commissioners.

According to the Karnes Countywide, even the Karnes County Attorney, Robert Busselman, said the closed door meeting was unlawful. That's significant because, according to state law, it is the county attorney who prosecutes local violations of open government statutes.

No word on whether Busselman will indict the commissioners for the illegal meeting but he should. That's how this kind of thing is stopped. Most local elected officials have nothing but contempt for laws that require documents and meetings be open to the public.

Ah, well ... according the The Countywide, at least, reading between the lines, this isn't the only misstep Karnes County commissioners have committed implementing the new county road system. One hopes The Countywide will keep a bright light shining on these guys. They'll deserve what they get.

What Karnes commissioners did was unlawful. What Runge and Rockdale trustees did (or, more accurately, will do) isn't.

For the last several sessions, open government advocates and local newspaper editors and publishers have been trying to convince the Texas Legislature to address the issue of finalists for top school and college administration position, but to no avail.

Groups like TASB, the Texas Association of Counties, the Texas Municipal League and the Texas Association of District and County Attorneys -- to name only four of many -- carry a lot of weight in Austin. They carry a lot of weight because they represent local elected officials and most of the people in Austin were local elected officials before they became Legislators.

The fact is, these groups are beneficial, for the most part. This is good because they represent your tax dollars at work (local governments pay dues to these organizations; they get the money to pay those dues from you). However, they also spend an inordinate amount of time picking apart open government laws looking for loopholes and exceptions so our local governments can avoid having the great unwashed juggle their collective elbows.

One thing is certain, especially in the more rural parts of Texas: the folks you elect to office would just as soon you stay away from meetings and leave 'em in peace so they can get on with the important business of spending your money.

It's not all labor's fault

The NYT gave Mitt Romney room on its oped page today. Interestingly, I agree with a lot of what he's said there.

However, he misses one huge point and it's a point many people miss when they try to compare the relationship between labor and the U.S. auto industry with that of foreign automakers.

Here's the point he hasn't really thought through ...

"... their huge disadvantage in costs relative to foreign brands must be eliminated. That means new labor agreements to align pay and benefits to match those of workers at competitors like BMW, Honda, Nissan and Toyota. Furthermore, retiree benefits must be reduced so that the total burden per auto for domestic makers is not higher than that of foreign producers."

Benefits paid to U.S. autoworkers can never be aligned with those of overseas manufacturers. Japan and most of the countries in Europe are, for the most part, social democracies. Merely being a citizen in these countries bestows certain guarantees ... among them are access to health care, good (some might say excessive) vacation time and access to affordable mass transit. There's more but these three are enough to tilt the economic playing field overseas before anyone sits down to a negotiating table.

This is a huge disadvantage for the U.S. auto industry and not one the industry can really do much about. And, since we in this country have this "thing" against socialism, it's not very likely that disadvantage will ever go away.

So, when Romney (and others) note that there is a $2,000 labor cost differential between an American-made car and a similar car built overseas, when anti-labor wingnuts harp on the union's complicity in today's debacle, we all must understand that the society those overseas workers live in (not the employers) affords them some benefits very few of us will ever enjoy.

The missed opportunity, Part Duex

A couple of posts back, I talked about the opportunity that some Texas publishers missed when they too-narrowly defined what "local coverage" really means.

The post was prompted when Bud Kennedy used the Texas Press Association's list serve to ask a question about reaction members of the community had to presidential election coverage, or lack of it.

I posted my blog entry and sent it to Bud via email, off-list. Unfortunately, it wasn't really "off-list." It was sent to all those 300-some-odd publishers and editors who frequent TPA's editorial list serve. Oops.

I hadn't intended to spark any controversy. Really.

One publisher — a good friend of mine — chided me for posting my blog on the list serve and I accepted it because she was right.

Others allowed as how I might have a point and one even made my argument better than I did.

Others, of course, stuck to their guns and defended Terrell's right to ignore the national elections — or not — the way they saw fit.

Then there was the publisher who cautioned Kennedy against paying much attention to me because I was "full of frijoles." This particular publisher went on to note that, had he even deigned to publish a story about the presidential election, it "probably would have said First socialist/Marist elected president. Instead those comments were made in our editorial on Page 4."

Wow. That's an enlightened oped page I'm glad I missed.

The storm raged for a day or two, then faded away. Bud wrote his column and even quoted me, though he identified my column by the URL rather than the name. A link to the column is here.

Reflective vests

This just in ...

The feds now require everyone who works a highway traffic accident to wear a reflective vest. The Texas Department of Public Safety has interpreted the "everyone" in this memorandum to mean "everyone."

As in, EMS workers, fire department personnel, first responders, and, yes, newspaper people.

Of course, most newspaper people are mavrickey (is this the new "truthiness?" Will Websters grant it legitimacy next year?) sorts and tend to resist unfunded mandates and efforts on the part of government to place any barrier between them and the news. So, some are resisting.

I understand their frustrations ... at the same time, I've kept a bright yellow vest and an orange poncho in my trunk for years. After all, if I'm gonna stand around a night time traffic accident, I want to take all the precautions I can so as not to get hurt myself.

One wag just asked how the DPS will enforce this new rule, since it's a federal, not state, mandate. Convince a U.S. Attorney to file charges? Not likely.

What is more likely is that DPS Troopers will less open than they already are and much more likely to refuse a reporters' access to highway traffic accident scenes, if that reporter isn't wearing a reflective vest. Officially, Troopers will likely be told to refuse to talk to reporters who don't wear the protective, reflective vests.

So, grouse all you want, guys ... just be prepared for the consequences.

The Culture Wars aren't over

It seems that even in these days of supposed post-partisan, post-racial, post-everything harmony, we still can't get past the culture wars.

I know this because the U.S. Supreme Court heard arguments yesterday about a Utah town that refused to allow one sort of religious monument on city property while staunchly defending another.

From the NYT editorial 11/12/08:

Pleasant Grove City, Utah, has a city park, known as Pioneer Park, that includes various unattended displays. These include historical artifacts from the town, a Sept. 11 memorial, and a Ten Commandments monument that was given to the city by the Fraternal Order of Eagles, a national civic group.

A religious organization called Summum, which was founded in 1975 and is based in Salt Lake City, applied to install its own monument in the park. The monument it proposed would include the group’s Seven Principles of Creation (also called the Seven Aphorisms), which it believes were inscribed on tablets handed down from God to Moses on Mount Sinai.

So, here we are again ... obstinate local governments deciding that neither the Establishment Clause nor the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment apply to them. So, now, they're in a fight over a religious monument planted in a city park in the mid-1950s by a civic group given money to promote a movie.

Okay —quick disclaimer, here. One of the more enticing stories I've read (or heard or been told) over the years is that, in advance of the movie, "The Ten Commandments," Cecil B. DeMille helped finance the Fraternal Order of Eagles' efforts to place monuments featuring the Ten Commandments in as many public spaces as possible. This may be simply an urban myth but it rings true and if true, it could be said that the battles the Culture Warriors have fought on this topic are less about Christian values and more about capitalistic values.

... but, I digress.

The SCOTUSblog has a wonderful analysis of the arguments set forth Tuesday. The blog's author called it the "Tyranny of Lables," which is apt. However, the legal arguments do little to disguise the fact that the leaders in this community have little or no respect for or understanding of the First Amendment of the Constitution.

It would be so easy for most local governments to have their cake and eat it, too because no interpretation of the Establishment Clause I've ever read forbids religious displays on government property. The Establishment Clause simply says the government may not promote one religion over another — it may not allow one sort of religious display in the public's space while forbidding another. The primary reason most dissenters object to Christian iconography on government property is because they are not allowed to display their own religious iconography.

Local governments could have Nativity scenes, post the Ten Commandments* and, really, do whatever their pinched little hearts desired if they also allowed other religious displays in the public's space. All they'd have to do is pass a resolution declaring public spaces open for religious displays on High Holy Days (whatever that religion's High Holy Day happens to be). Let the local Christian churches build their Nativity scenes or whatever then just sit back.

In most communities, there would few takers because, in most communities in this country, the only religion practiced is the various forms of Christianity. It seems like a simple solution, to me — maybe too simple — and I'm not sure why more local governments don't try that.

Are they so unsure in their faith that they absolutely cannot allow competition from the occasional Wiccan or Buddhist shrine? I dunno ...

Now, this would not solve the problems we have at our schools ... public prayer, proselytizing at required student events, etc ... but few SCOTUS rulings speak to all the issues and the Prayer in School crisis bids fair to continue the culture wars for a bit longer.

(*I've always wondered why we chose to fight over the Ten Commandments. That's so Old Testament. Aren't Christians supposed to pay more attention to the New Testament? If so, we ought to be posting Christ's version of the Jewish law: The Beatitudes.)

The missed opportunity

Bud Kennedy, a columnist for the Fort Worth Star Telegram, sent a request to publishers of small Texas newspapers for their thoughts on front page coverage of the national elections. If the responses were typical (and I suspect they were), I'm disappointed in my Texas newspaper brethren.

The request was prompted by picketing at the office of the Terrell Tribune, a paper that allegedly led with national stories from the wire in advance then downplayed the national election results on Election Day. I wasn't there. I don't know what pressures Bill and his staff faced that day so I won't comment on that situation.

Besides, that's not what disappoints. What disappoints is that it appears Texas publishers missed a huge opportunity in this election.

This was an historic event, one of the biggest, easiest-to-cover stories of the decade. Everyone in our communities talked about it and everyone had an opinion, regardless of who they voted for or why. To dismiss an event of this significance simply because we had to use a little imagination to tie it to our own back yards or because Tuesdays are a little tough is selling our readers — and ourselves — short.

As many of you know, I edited and published weekly and small daily newspapers in Texas for the better part of two decades. I found that my readers really appreciated local coverage of large state and national issues like pubic school finance, immigration reform and congressional redistricting. The argument of "it didn't happen here" doesn't hold because these issues have an impact on everyone in our communities and, in some cases, a profound impact.

Agreed, had I been publishing a newspaper this cycle, my advance coverage would have been focused on the local elections because our readers could get that news nowhere else. But, by the same token, neither could our readers get news of the local reaction to the results of the national election anywhere else.

To not mention this election and the local reaction to it in a prominent fashion is, in my opinion, the same as if we had completely ignored the events of 9/11. How many of us tore up our front page that Tuesday morning and devoted the rest of that day to covering the local reaction to jets crashing into the World Trade Center? We did in Cameron and, from the standpoint of local color, it was probably one of the best front pages that year. Plus, it sold out on the racks.

Instead of taking the easy way out (“It ain’t local so we don’t pay attention”), why not have prepared some sort of local reaction piece to this historic event?

One of our most under-served market segments, the “minority” community, probably voted in record numbers so they could vote for the first black man to be nominated for president atop a national party, even though they knew their vote wouldn't really make a difference to the Texas electoral vote. Isn’t that a story? Isn’t that a local hook?

And, frankly, that’s part of where this controversy — and opportunity —comes from. Our newspapers, especially those papers serving our more rural areas, serve a dwindling elite. That elite is largely white. Despite years of effort at racial diversification (often halfhearted effort), the people running and working in those newspapers are also largely white. The advertisers who support those newspapers — also likely white — probably don't care that much about our minority communities, though they should because we've all seen the demographic projections.

In Texas (and in this country) our white population is shrinking while our minority populations are growing. At the same time, we're all terrified at how long it might take for the rot of declining circulation and declining ad revenues afflicting the metro papers to trickle down to our Texas towns. To survive, we'll have to reach out to everyone in our communities, not just the elite.

If no one else, minorities in our communities watched this election closely ... and too many of our community newspapers discounted them and this elections' importance by giving it little or no coverage. Really, that’s a shame.

Texas publishers missed a huge opportunity.

Our moment in time

"This is our moment. This is our time."

The blogosphere is littered with allusions and odes to Tuesday night. I can't offer anything more profound than President-Elect Obama's own words.

In fact, I get choked up just contemplating what happened. I'll be merrily working along, flip over to the "news" page on my browser and see a story that refers to what happened. Without warning, I'll tear up and start sniffling.

"What happened." As if. As if it wasn't anything much. As if the world didn't change, and change in a more profound fashion than it did that June Sunday afternoon in 1969 when a human being walked around on another planet.

Last night, I read Thomas Friedman's NYT column "Finishing Our Work." If you haven't read it, do. It's lovely. I read the first graf out loud to Tia Rae and choked up. Again. Something I just can't seem to stop doing.

In fact, I just called the column up to make sure I got the headline and noted the first graf ... again, again, I teared up.

Thomas is correct. As much as Southern revisionists might disagree, the American Civil War, the Late Great Unpleasantness, as I'm told my paternal great-grandmother called it, finally ended Tuesday evening at 10 p.m. Central Standard Time.

My young nephew, Jerran, won't know a time that a black man wasn't president and it will be as natural to him as satellites, laptop computers and HiDef. My new cousin, Isaac, will look back at this and wonder what all the fuss was about.

And, I can't help but wonder at what my Father might say and think about this. He was, after all, a classic, conservative Republican (albeit more in the Goldwater mold rather than that of Regan) but, in the early 1960s, he helped integrate the public schools in the little Texas Gulf Coast town where we lived. In fact, he had little use for bigots of any stripe.

Part of my wonder at this remarkable period in our history is that Barak Obama didn't run to be our first black president. He seldom talked about it. And, we didn't elect him for that, either ... well, I didn't, nor did any of the people I know. We elected him to be our president, plain and simple and natural as that.

(Okay, maybe, as one of the talking heads said last night, we elected him "savior" but that's more an indication of the last eight years — or 28 years — and our current dire straits than anything he tried to do.)

So. It's done. That chapter is closed and a new one begins.

This is our moment. This is our time. We've been desperate for this for a long, long time. Let's do something with it.

I'll be in the bunker 'til it's over

I just got finished running all my traps. The CNN electoral map. The poll of polls poll. HuffPo. WaPo. Stanley Fish.

It looks like Obama has a clear field for the rest of the week. Even Joe Scarborough said there is no way McCain can win. Barak would have to lose and it would take an "October Surprise" of historic proportions for that to happen.

That's what scares me. Democrats have this way of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory (does anyone remember 2000? 2004?) and they (we) seem pretty good at it. In fact, this election has been ours to lose from the beginning. For a while there (April, May), we seemed determined to self destruct.

For the last few weeks, Tia and I have stayed in the safety and comfort of the echo chamber. You know, the liberal, elite media ... the outlets mentioned above plus Salon.com, NYT, MSNBC prime time (Chris, Rachel and Keith; Keith may be a blow hard but he's OUR blow hard), Jon and Steven.

From now through next Tuesday, I'm going to be very careful that no unauthorized (considering our sources, perhaps I should use air quotes here) news source finds its way into our home.

We'll just stay in the bunker 'til it's all over.

Did Alcoa really benefit Milam County?

I just finished reading Cameron Mayor David Barkemeyer's effusive praise of Alcoa in the Oct. 23 issue of The Cameron Herald. I mean no disrespect to the mayor or to his opinion of Alcoa's impact on Milam County because, in may ways, he's absolutely correct.

However, not everything that company did was beneficial. Defining a company's legacy in strictly economic terms often overlooks less tangible costs.

Yes. Many Milam County residents earned good money working in the smelter and a lot of locals owe their moderately comfortable retirement checks to Alcoa. But, an unusually high percentage of them were exposed to toxic levels of asbestos and other poisons, and many of those have contracted fatal lung cancer — despite the fact that Alcoa knew in the early 1950s that asbestos exposure could have all sorts of ugly side effects.

I'll also grant that the presence of Alcoa had a positive impact on our tax base and, without that tax revenue, some of our governments will have trouble providing essential services. On the other hand, for the vast majority of those 50 years in Milam County, Alcoa polluted our land, our water and our air. Our children will pay those environmental costs, whatever they turn out to be.

And, sure ... Alcoa spent a lot of money on parks, grants, athletic fields, schools and what have you. By some standards, they poured a small fortune into Milam County. But, they also made a lot of money. Make no mistake, the money they handed out (and paid out in the form of salaries and taxes) was a pittance compared to the amount of money they made off their Rockdale operations.

In the end, Alcoa showed its true nature — as big companies like this will do. Under the cover of a spat with Luminant (the company they sold their generating capacity to) and a national economy in flames, they simply abandoned a community that had been its faithful partner for over 50 years.

I wonder who got the best of that deal? I'll lay odds that it wasn't us.

Celebrating 13 years of that good old pine box commitment

I sometimes joke that we got married on Oct. 22, 1995 because the Cowboys had a bye and we could probably get most of our families to attend.

We did announce our intentions to wed rather suddenly and with very short notice (how quickly can you get married in Texas? Marry her now before she changes her mind!) so the fact that America's Team didn't dominate Sunday's tube probably helped with attendance that afternoon at the VFW Hall near Lake Belton.

It wasn't a big crowd. Maybe 30, 35 people, mostly family. My kids, hers. Mom couldn't make it from Pueblo in time and brother Daniel was stuck delivering the Sunday San Antonio Express News but both of Tia Rae's parents were there. So were all her siblings. So did Dad and my brother, Eddie and a double-handful of important friends and colleagues.

It was emotional, we all had a good cry. Beers were consumed. So was a table-full of donated barbecue. Later, we noted that the bingo signs were in just about all the decent photos of the event. One wit noted the propriety of the location, as this represented a second swing at that pine box commitment for both of us; we were both veterans of the wars.

So, maybe that's why it was no big deal when she suggested we not make a big deal out of our anniversary this year. Frankly, we try to celebrate our commitment to each other every day — at least, in some fashion.

In fact, we're doing a lot, right now. We're remodeling the house and that's soaking up just about all our money and excess energy. We're going to New York City the weekend before Christmas (in lieu of Christmas presents) and that pretty much wiped out the few shillings we had left.

Further, we usually "buy something for the house" rather than going overboard with nights on the town or gooey gifts; rather, we save that sort of thing for Christmas and birthday.

Still, the day must be marked. Thirteen years may not seem all that long a time to be married, but, in these later days, it's still worth noting. Okay, a high school buddy just reminded me that she's been married 25 years (all to the same guy! Go figure!) and a local couple, with whom we share a love of fine food and wine, spades, community theater and Longhorn football (and basketball and baseball), will soon celebrate their 35th. So, I acknowledge that there are many couples our age who've figured it out.

No, 13 years isn't all that long a time to be married. Just a lifetime ... and no time at all.

She calls me her kite-flyer and she's my kite. Fellow travelers in more ways than one. Best friends. Lovers.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart! Thank you for being you!

The Ragged Edge: Despite absence, teaching continues

Note: This column was published in February 3, 2005 in the Cameron Herald.

One of my earliest clear memories of my father is of the time I decided, in first grade, that I didn't need to go to school.

I walked to school every morning - I know I'm dating myself when I say that I grew up in a time when a first-grader could safely walk to school but there it is - and just decided to stop and play behind the railroad tracks that ran between our house and the school. That's where Dad found me.

He was probably frustrated with his first-born and likely scared to death but I don't remember him being too angry or upset. We spent the rest of the day at his office where I played with the memo graph machine (one of my favorite pieces of old office equipment) and generally made a nuisance of myself trying to help him put out the church bulletin.

I don't know how I came to the erroneous conclusion that I didn't need to go to school. Skipping school was not really an option for other first-graders but I don't remember much cognitive dissonance over the event. Since I wasn't really a model student but was given to daydreaming and inattention to my schoolwork, I suspect I avoided school that morning out of a dread about my grades. In fact, I remember a very serious conversation with Mrs. Sessions, my principal, after that. She attended the church where my Dad preached and I think lived down the street from us. She was a nice woman but that visit was scary and I stopped having trouble with my grades.

But while that is the only clear memory of Mrs. Sessions, it is one of many I have of my father. Like how he tried to keep 20 or 30-cents in his pockets on Sunday mornings.

After church services were over, Dad waited in the Narthex to speak with members of the congregation as they exited. My brothers and I always showed up for money for the soda machine. We were sorely agitated those Sunday mornings when he forgot. I know he was often annoyed with us because we could be pretty bratty.

We drank Grape Nehi. Well, sometimes my younger brother would drink Orange Nehi but he was a nonconformist. I'd drink Orange only if the machine was out of Grape. Later, that particular brother rooted for the Redskins and the Vikings while the rest of us rooted for the Cowboys. I think he did it on purpose. He's still sort of contrary that way.

Dad was usually pretty tolerant of our mischief, until we got in the car. He tried very hard to be patient with us but he had three sons, four years apart and he and Mom liked to Go Places. Like Harlingen and Odessa and Kingsville and Shreveport and St. Louis.

We didn't make it very easy for him and he occasionally lost his cool when we sat in the back seat and taunted each other mile after mile after mile (Are we there yet? Stop touching me!).

I've been thinking about my Dad for the last couple of weeks. I now realize that I should have paid more attention to my memories of him. I'd have been a lot better prepared for my own children. As it is, I've recalled these memories a bit late. My oldest children already think they are adult and that teenage girl is generally hopeless (alas, she already loves puns).

But, it demonstrates that your parents have a lot to teach you, even when they re no longer around.

Monday, Jan. 31 was the second anniversary of his death. Last Friday, I took a detour coming home from Sealy so I could visit his grave in that little Czech cemetery near Dime Box. It's kind of odd - but not at all wrong - to see his strong Saxon name mixed in with the Kovars and the Mareks and the Hrnicrs. He spent nearly 20 years ministering to some of those people and that's where he wanted us to bury him so we did.

It's a pretty site, on the top of a low hill near the church. Even when the winter leaches all colors but brown out of the landscape, there's a beauty to that hillside.

He still has much to teach me, even though he's gone.

I miss him.

Not for the faint of heart

We're remodeling our home.

Tia says that we're just redec-orating but I don't buy it. Sure, we've re-painted just about every room in the house in the last couple of months. Does new carpet count as redecorating? How 'bout DIY laminate floors?

Oh, and we ripped out the wall between the dining room and the living room. And the ceiling in the living room so, really, there's a new ceiling, too.

Is that remodeling or redecorating?

Whatever ... we're doing it, mostly ourselves. And, it looks like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully, we'll finish up the dining room next weekend then all we'll have left is laying the floor int he dining room and kitchen and installing thresholds and quarter-round in, well, nearly all the rooms.

Still a lot of work, I know, but we can actually sweep the floor and expect it to stay moderately clean for more than an hour or so. Further, we're no longer living in a 24-hour construction zone.

And one day, if we're very, very good and very, very diligent, we'll actually finish.

Can McCain find honor?

We were in the liberal echo chamber last night and saw the video of an embarrassed John McCain forced to defend Barak Obama.

He should be embarrassed.

Gawd, I hope he figures out what's been happening at his rallies. His silence condones the tone of these terrified hate mongers, and it looks like they are all who attend any more.

Baltimore Sun editorial yesterday said what I wrote below, but did it much better.

Have a little shame

It shouldn't surprise me, I suppose. After all, I live in rural Texas.

But, when an election official in my hometown told me that an awful lot of folks who identify themselves with the Democratic Party simply could not bring themselves to vote for a black man, I was taken aback. And disappointed.

After all, we've gotten past all that, haven’t we? Haven't we?

Well, perhaps I'm just naïve … because we haven't.

Many of these people should know better — should, at the very least, feel a little shame for uttering those words out loud ... and, I cleaned the statement up a bit for consumption in a family newspaper.

But, I suspect too many of them feel it's perfectly natural to distrust a black man in power, though I'm at a loss to explain why anyone should feel this way.

Over the last couple of months, I've wanted to look at my conservative friends (and I have many of them), pat them gently on the cheek and, in my best baby-talk voice, ask, "What's the matter, does the mean black man scare you?"

I think he does. I think Barak Obama’s obvious intelligence, grace and poise terrifies an awful lot of rural Texans. His very existence challenges the prejudices they learned growing up, then perpetuated at their own kitchen tables.

This week, I got an email from another close (conservative) friend bemoaning the fact that, unless the stories about his “character and past associations” don’t surface soon, Obama will win the election.

He may not have meant it that way but those are code words for “the color of his skin.”

It also appears to be the only real topic at the most recent rallies for the Republican presidential ticket. They can’t talk about the economy or the war so they indulge in race baiting. My friends, that’s plain scary.

No, I’ve heard neither John McCain nor Sarah Palin actually say the words “terrorist,” or “black man” or “Obama” in the same sentence but the angry vitriol spewing from those attending the rallies is enough to make sane people fear violence. And that neither of the candidates (and that would be John McCain, the war hero, and/or Sarah Palin, the devote Christian) slapped down those bigots yelling the racist and discriminatory slogans is unprecedented. Even the conservative arm of the mainstream media is appalled.

Desperation will allow otherwise reasonable people to commit heinous things but McCain’s lack of a reaction is tantamount to encouragement. When the ostensibly reasonable people at the top of the ticket of a major national political party tacitly encourage race-baiting and violent language toward any ethnic group, it won’t be long until we see actual acts of violence toward that ethnic group. Especially in places like rural Texas where we’re not even a couple of generations removed from Jim Crow and the mob.

I’d expect this from the tattered remains of Strom Thurmond’s Dixiecrat party, or from supporters of Gov. George Wallace’s aborted presidential run, not from someone like John McCain. Is he really so desperate?

It’s one thing to disagree with a politician’s stand on the issues. Frankly, if you’re really paying attention, you won’t agree fully with everything ANY politician says … if you do, you’re lying to yourself or that politician is lying to you.

Further, it’s perfectly acceptable to vote against a politician you disagree with — heck, I could make the argument that it’s your civic duty to get out and actively campaign against the candidate.

But, have the decency to admit to yourself, if to no one else, why you’ll cast your vote the way you will.

And, if that reason has more to do with the color of a person’s skin than it does with that person’s political philosophy, be very ashamed.

Democracy is pretty cool; register to vote

There’s a world-changing election coming up in about a month. But, if you aren’t registered to vote, you can’t take part.

Citizenship in this country is not simply a given. It comes with certain fairly simple obligations. Among them are serving on a jury, when asked, and voting. Registering to vote is the first step.

Monday is the deadline if you want to vote in the next election. If you aren’t registered to vote and you haven’t registered by Monday, your voice won’t be heard.

And, it’s crucial that your voice be heard, and not only because of the presidential race.
Make no mistake, that’s an important vote but some of the races further down the ballot are just as critical.

For example, Texans will cast ballots for one of two representatives to the United States Senate. John Cornyn, a former Texas Attorney General, is running for his second term against an upstart war hero by the name of Rick Noriega. Right now, it’s a surprisingly close race. With a narrow partisan division in Congress, I’m not overstating the case at all when I say who we elect as our Senator will alter the shape of the U.S. Senate.

Here’s another example of how important it is that you cast a vote. The people we put on the Court of Appeals and Texas Supreme Court will determine how much access — if any — you have to our state’s legal system. The phrases “tort reform” and “frivolous lawsuits” are merely code words for a bench weighted in favor of the defense of big corporations. Of course, “access to the courts” is usually a code phrase for the opposite position.

Vote a certain way in those obscure judicial races and we’re telling the courts that we’d rather see to the financial health of the business community, even if that means individual liberties are curtailed. Vote another and we’re telling them that our right to redress our grievances before the legal system is more important than a few more dollars of profit on the balance sheets of our state’s big manufacturers.

Which brings up the second step of being a full-fledged citizen and that is casting an intelligent vote. As I noted, those judicial races are pretty obscure. Few of the names involved are familiar — and, too often in judicial races, those that ARE familiar are suspiciously familiar.

Further, ideological purity is dangerous when installed in a courtroom. Along that path lies “legislating from the bench,” another one of those code phrases that can mean whatever the heck you want it to mean except that judges of both political parties are guilty.

This, combined with some frankly misleading political advertising, makes it very difficult for the average voter to become educated about a given race, especially judicial races.

So, how do you become educated? Well, that presidential election will suck all the air out of the room as far as the national press is concerned. If you can’t figure that one out, you aren’t trying.
For the rest, this paper is probably your best source for the county and local statehouse races. The Sunday issue of your regional metro daily is also a good source.

If that doesn’t work for you, the next best source I know of for non-partisan information about elections is the Texas League of Women Voters (www.lwvtex.org). They’ve published a 16-page guide to the elections, an awful lot of it concerning the judicial races.

But, before anything else, you have to register to vote. It’s probably a bit late to request an application by mail but they are available at almost any county, state or federal office. Your post office, for instance, or the County Clerk’s office. Put it in the mail for postmark by Monday, Oct. 6. You should get your voters registration card back in plenty of time for the election.

Then, read up on the election and join the rest of your fellow citizens at the polls. It’s called democracy and it’s pretty cool.

How to be a patriot

Let’s face it. Americans like to see things blow up. That’s one of the reasons we all flock to Fourth of July fireworks displays.

Where at all possible, rural Texans like to have a hand in blowing things up. That’s one of the reasons many Texans, especially those who live in towns the size Kyle and Buda used to be, really like the Fourth of July.

We can buy our own star shells and mortars and Roman candles and bottle rockets to light up our own patch of sky and show those folks the next ridge over what a real fireworks display looks like.

But, Kyle and Buda aren’t all that small, any more. Hays County certainly isn’t. A hundred houses have sprouted out of what were lonely, out of the way fields a couple of years ago.

Which brings up the other issue. Hays County is so parched you could start a brush fire just by giving a pasture a harsh look.

The vastly increased population and the dry conditions make random, spontaneous displays of amateur rocketry a bit problematic for the folks who respond to out-of-control pasture fires.
Now, patriotism means all sorts of things to all sorts of people but it’s very likely we can all agree it means more than simply flying the flag on the Fourth of July, wearing a red, white and blue shirt and cooking off star shells.

Cleansed of all the jingoistic trappings, patriotism means being a responsible citizen, which means observing the law, even if that means refraining from exercising your “right” to lighting off fireworks.

Remember, neither Kyle nor Buda allows citizens to shoot off fireworks in the city limits. No, not even sparklers. That’s the law.

This year, due to the harsh, dry conditions previously noted, Hays County Commissioners have banned aerial fireworks. That’s the law, as well.

So, be really patriotic this Fourth of July. Instead of risking a brush fire that, this year, might just burn down someone’s brand new home, take advantage of the lavish (but safe) fireworks displays both Buda and Kyle intend to sponsor.

It’s the patriotic thing to do.

This was originally published as an editorial in The Hays Free Press.

Taking the food off your table

If you’re a vegetarian, you might want to skip this one … but, then again, maybe not.

Pres. Bush’s new energy policy mandating minimum levels of annual biofuel production is likely to have unintended consequences on the price of beef.

For one thing, it’s driving up the price of corn because most ethanol in the United States is produced from corn.

That’s real good news for the folks who grow corn and soybeans and the like for a living, many of whom have struggled merely to survive the last decade or so.

It’s real bad news for cattle producers and those of us who maintain that we didn’t climb to the top of the food chain to eat broccoli.

Here’s why: with the spike in the price of corn comes a corresponding increase in the price of beef. And pork. And any other commercially-grown food animal or bird fattened on corn and soy feed.

The more that corn is diverted to biofuel, the higher the demand. The higher the demand, the less is available for cattle production and the more expensive meat products become.

Talk about a double whammy (as opposed to a double cheeseburger).

The cost of fuel is driving up the price of all food products at the consumer level ... and, alternative fuels are actually taking food off our tables.

Now, this piece has been approached with tongue planted firmly in cheek but the issue of using a pervasive, staple food source to power our cars does have some profound implications for global hunger.

Not only will your ribeye steak get more expensive, more folks in sub-Sahara Africa will go hungry.

We may soon face a choice: corn for meat or corn for fuel.

Suddenly, vegetarianism may become a more attractive option.

This was published as an editorial in the Hays Free Press