Tour de Lame

Wow, did this year's Tour de France just take a hit! I'm not a huge cycling fan. I don't follow the different races throughout the year or anything. But I watched the last seven years with all the Lance hooplah, and I got to know a few names, and I know that losing Ullrich and Basso this year to a doping scandal is HUGE! I think without those two and Lance in the field, whoever wins this year will always have to wonder if he could've won with the big boys in it.

Ullrich, I think, might have suffered even if he'd won from a bit of the, "Well Lance isn't in it anymore." He just couldn't seem to best Lance once Lance made his comeback. But Basso - he was sort of the future face of cycling. He was the next big thing. I don't mean to use the past tense to indicate that his career is over. Right now he's just "implicated" in an investigation, which doesn't prove anything. He may yet be cleared. But being banned from this year's tour is a blow.

I've heard recently about Lance being attacked again in a drug probe, and honestly, I didn't pay much attention. I assume it's this same scandal, but I pretty much quit listening to all that mess years ago. Year after the year, people, the French in particular, accuse him of doping and it's never proven. He took test after test after test when he was cycling, and no one ever found a thing. I figured they just couldn't stand some American (a Texan no less) besting them on their own turf. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't believe it if real proof were found. I do keep an open mind.

My personal feeling is that he didn't dope - not because he's morally superior to other riders, but because I have to believe that after the cancer and the agonizing treatment and all that he went through with that, he just wouldn't risk his health by putting questionable substances in it. I could be wrong, and maybe some day I'll see something that changes my mind. But right now, I stand by my belief that he's just an extraordinarily gifted cyclist. If he'd tried another sport, maybe he would've just been average. But he found the sport that was the perfect match for his particular gifts and talent. He married that to hard work, and he excelled. I see him like I see Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretsky or Tiger Woods. No one asks if they're cheating. We assume they're just gifted. But for some reason, people want to take down Lance. That's too bad.

Elvis.

I was watching the news this morning, and all the anchors kept mentioning how the visiting Japanese Prime Minister, Junichiro Koizumi, loves Elvis Presley - like a fan in the borderline "fanatic" realm. And this got me to thinking.

It's odd how the rest of the world proclaims us to be so awful (we have no class, we're big imperialist bullies, we're prudes, we're unhealthy, we're too rich - that one escapes me - we're this, we're that), and yet not only do people risk life and limb to get here, but they can't seem to get enough of being like us or worshipping people who are nothing more than icons of American culture. Elvis Presley didn't cure cancer. He didn't invent computers, or even the Internet, or even television. He didn't discover the theory of relativity or broker lasting peace in the Middle East or pioneer organ transplantation. He didn't even write his own songs. He was a singer. That's it - a performer if you really must give him a boost.

Now, I like Elvis. Don't get me wrong. I like his music and I find his life story interesting, if not cautionary, and I agree that was a good-lookin' man when he was young.



But good grief, WHAT is with people idolizing the guy? He wasn't exactly someone to pattern your life after (unless it is your goal to die bloated and drug-addicted on your toilet at the age of 42), and yet countless people seem to be obsessed with the man. And here is where it gets interesting to me: many of those people aren't American.

Elvis was quintessentially American. It doesn't get much more American. His story is an American story: the poor, rural kid who ends up fabulously wealthy and successful on the merits of his talent and hard work. No caste system here in America! His music was American: bluesy rock and roll. His speech was American: good ole Southern boy. His looks were American: nice-looking mutt - or at least we guess he's a mutt. No one seems to know his ethnicity, and it doesn't matter. Because he's American, and we're pretty open about those things! Everything about this guy was American! Even his death of excess was American.



So, if America and things-American are bad, why is Elvis so revered the world round? Because we're not so bad, that's why. And because people can safely love us by saying they love Elvis - even if they don't admit that lovin' Elvis is in part loving America. But it is. Admit it, Mr. Koizumi: You love us. You luuuuuuuv us.

Bend the light.

Well, we've had our second installment of Treasure Hunters. I wonder if it's garnering an audience? Last night they started with an "encore" performance of the second half of the 2-hour special from last Sunday. I didn't watch - seen it and recapped, baby. So on to recapping the new episode.

First let me say that I do not like this host as much as I like Phil on TAR. This guys seems computer-generated or something. He's a mannequin. He's not real. Also, I get a little annoyed at the contstant, blatant product placement. This is the worst show I've seen about that. I hope that's not how all shows are going to be in the near future.

The action

The 2:20 a.m. clue call would be painful. I'd need more sleep than that to be functional. I'd have to be taking me a nap on the way to the Lexington mine. Oh, and did anyone even notice that billboard clue about the water? I didn't hear anyone comment on it. That's another complaint I have about this show. The editing is not very good. There have been a number of times where I wasn't sure about something, and it's possible that I've just missed something someone said or that was explained, but I know that at least some of the time it's because they didn't show something important on camera - a reaction or a discussion, etc.

Lexington mine:
I don't like heights, but I'm not claustrophobic, so I could've done this one. And my mind was already digesting the "Bend the light" clue when the Air Force guys figured it out, so I think I might have actually gotten that one. I was impressed with how many teams did. I heard one of the girly teams - Miss USA or Grad Students, I can't tell them apart - complaining because apparently they thought they were working with the Fogals, and after the Fogals got the clue, they took off and left the girls behind. This is a spot where either they didn't show the agreement between the Fogals and the girls or I just missed it, but when the Fogals didn't wait for them, I wasn't sure why the girls were under the impression the Fogals should have waited for them. Did they show an overt agreement for them to work together?

And why did the Browns give the Southies the clue? Was there an agreement between the Browns, Southies and Hanlons? I did hear the Southies saying they weren't going to share with the Hanlons, but I never understood that they were all working together in the first place. Again, did I miss something or did they not show something?

The Hanlons lost in the mine for 11 hours. (No comment necessary. Just shaking my head.)

Wood Bottom:
- Keith Brown tumped the canoe over. Of course, he did.
- My future husband, Air Force Matt, continues to rock on. Send me a postcard, honey.
- The Southies helped the Fogals with their canoe. Are you stupid, Southies? Have you not seen how the Fogals play this game? We're only 3 episodes in and I know not to help them - that they will stab you in back the first chance they get. How could the Southies not know this? When the Fogals took off at the 13th star when the Southies and CIA thought they were all working together, I wasn't suprised in the least. That's vintage Fogals. At least those two teams now seem to get it. Do NOT help the Fogals. They WON'T help you, and they WILL screw you if they can. And then they'll say a prayer for you, because that's not hypocritical.

Lewis and Clark Code:

- I'm pretty good at codes, so I think I would've been quick getting the message.
- The Hanlons stopped racing and went for food???? Are you kidding me??? It's a miracle they weren't eliminated. I really think they'll be next. They just can't hang in much longer. They rarely figure out the clues, and they're idiots about strategy (obviously). About the only thing that could save them is if the Grad Students can't hang in because of the one girl's knee injury. I'm not sure how that will affect their ability to keep playing.
- I'm bummed the Browns got eliminated. It wasn't a suprise, but they were nice and they tried hard and they weren't complete morons, like the Hanlons, so it might've been nice to see them go one more round. But Keith's inability to swim just killed them. Nobody listens to me, and then they're out in Round 2.

A word from your National Geographic host

I got my pictures back yesterday from Alaska. I'm one of those dinosaurs that still uses a film camera, but my Nikon takes such awesome pictures, I just can't abandon it. I swear some of the pictures I shot look like something out of a brochure. Of course, it's kind of like trying to take a bad picture of Christie Brinkley - with a subject that gorgeous, you'd have to really be trying for the picture to be less than stunning. I just need to scan some of the pictures in and then I can post them here - maybe I'll get to that this weekend!

In any case, I went around showing my pictures to my co-workers, and they dutifully looked and kinda sorta listened, and I didn't really care if they were paying attention so long as I got to expound on the amazing sites in the pictures and relive it a little bit. Glacier Bay was one of my favorites. What a place. I told them a bunch of what I'd learned about glaciers, thanks to the park rangers that boarded our ship the day we toured Glacier Bay. I know you care, so now I'll tell you some of it.

First off, you'll never get it unless you see it. Pictures can't do Alaksa or a glacier justice, even when they're taken with a fab-o camera like mine. You have to be there. You have to stand on the deck, with cold wind whipping your hair, and ice floating all around in the ocean around you, staring at this giant canyon wall of blue ice. It really is blue, and you'll never see any ice like it unless you're looking at something man-made, and baby, that ain't the same. God and nature did this, and they did it big. You have to hear for yourself the shotgun crack as a piece begins to calve off, eyes searching to see where on the wall of ice something is beginning to slip down. And then you see it - maybe it's just a little pebble of ice tumbling down or maybe it's a whole sheet, slowing shifting, then crashing down into the water, sending waves of slushy ocean water to push against the ship as everyone gasps and involuntarily shouts "Oh!" and "There it is!" It is absolutely awesome.

You wouldn't think watching ice fall would be so moving, but when you really understand what you're looking at it, and how big and powerful it is, and how absolutely special what you're seeing is - it captures you. This isn't TV. This is real. It's nature, putting on a show. And it makes you realize how small and puny we are next to what nature can do. I love it.

Edumacation. Glacier ice is blue because it's denser than most ice. I believe the park ranger told us it's 6 times denser than the ice in your freezer at home. Glacier ice starts as snow that compacts down into ice over time. As the years go by, it compresses more and more until this dense river of ice moves across the landscape, shearing anything in its path. When it reaches the ocean, without the earth underneath it to slide across, the glacier is unable to sustain its weight and begins to break off, or calve, into the water. The land left in the wake of a glacier is a blank slate - scoured of any living thing. And the earth starts over. You can see nature's process in Glacier Bay - land stripped of everything, then life beginning with mosses and such, then more flora and some fauna moving in, and eventually a fully active forest teeming with plant an animal life.

Last night, the National Geographic channel had a show about ice, and after visiting Glacier Bay, I had to watch it. I only made it about halfway, because it was late and I had to go to bed, but this weatherman in Canada was talking about this massive ice storm that occurred in Canada several years ago and the incredible power of nature. With simple water, frozen into ice, nature was able to destroy in one day structures it had taken man decades to build. It wiped out power; broke power line towers; crumpled trees, sending them crashing into cars; made roads impassible. And there wasn't one thing man could do to stop it. All they could do was clean up afterward. He made the point about how powerful nature is, and I thought how true that is. And I'm glad of it. Because not only can nature punch us in the mouth, it can outlast us, and it can fix what we stupid humans destroy.

Eventually, I have no doubt that we humans will destroy ourselves. We'll overpopulate and starve, or we'll blow ourselves up, or we'll have a pandemic that wipes us out - somehow or another, we're going to go the way of the dinosaur. And my, oh my, what we'll leave behind. Quite a mess to clean up. But nature is up to the job.

It's raining. It's not pouring.

Yes, that's right, it's finally raining here in Austin. It's rained several times now in the last three days, and it's wunderful. You see, we got a little thing called a drought going on - water restrictions had begun and I heard warnings about aquifers getting too low and what-not. So, we're very happy to have this rain.

Folks in Houston - not so happy about the rain there. They're getting it in buckets, and the whole city is only about 28 feet above sea level (if I remember correctly - I only grew up there). My family down there says their house is doing fine, but they can't get some places because of flooded streets. Hey man, I won't argue a day off from work if I can't there as long as my house is dry and I have power. You don't want to know Houston in June without air conditioning.

In any case, it's much more reasonable here. We get some rain, it soaks in, then we get a little more, it soaks in, and so on. That should be very good for the aquifers and flora around here. Things were getting desperate in my yard. Who am I kidding - what yard? I had burned Bermuda grass. Hay. Hay is what I had. That's not at all what you want when July 4th gets here because the idiots in my neighborhood insist on lighting fireworks IN the neighborhood (yes, there's a law against it, but for some reason the cops don't feel obligated to do anything about it - I should sue them if my house burns down), so that flaming incindiaries are flying around onto your roof and dry lawn (known in some places as "kindling") for days before and after the holiday. Even if you tried to sit up all night with a hose and watch for the little missiles flying onto your property, you couldn't do it. It goes on for like a week. And then I find the carcasses of the fireworks in my lawn for months afterward. I don't even know how they make it into some of the places I find them.

So, rain, in reasonable quantities: a good thing. Idiots in your neighborhood in any quantity: a bad thing.

It's a treasure, matey!

Well, we have a new reality game show for me to obsess on: Treasure Hunters! Thanks to my friend Judy for tipping me off to this one. I didn't even know anything about it until she gave me a heads-up last week. I watched it last night, and I'm going to stick with it and recap like I do for The Amazing Race.

For anyone who didn't see it last night, it's like TAR on steroids. You have to figure out all kinds of clues and puzzles, and they mix it up with the teams - sometimes you're working with someone and sometimes not. It's pretty cool so far. I haven't figured out some of the specifics, like how they got from Alaska to Nebraska last night. Does everyone automatically end up on the same flight? I didn't see teams scrambling for flights like they do on TAR, so I'm wondering how many automatic catch-ups there are going to be where teams all even up regardless of how they're playing. I assume the one last night was designed to set up the meeting between the two sets of teams, but I wonder if there will be a lot of that as the game goes on. Anyway, let's do a little recapping for the inaugural episode of Treasure Hunters!

We've got two sets of 5 teams. First set: Air Force, Geniuses, Graduate Students, Fogal Family, and Brown Family. These teams started competing from Hawaii. Second set: Young Professionls, Miss USAs, Southie Boys, Wild Hanlons, and Ex-CIA. First, team commentary.

Air Force team's Matt, you know you love me and want to marry me, so just win some money and come on down here and pick up your lady love. I'll start wedding plans now, and by the time you win the show, everything will be ready.

Grad students made me want to puke by saying they'd ride the coattails of the geniuses. It makes women, even educated ones, look like they're not as smart as guys. And the bikinis didn't help. Don't be bimbos.

Geniuses. Can you be a genius with sideburns like Francis'?

Southie Boys. These guys are all great looking, but dear Lord, I don't know that I can listen to those accents.

Wild Hanlons. My first thought was, "Oh, pleeeeeease don't let them be from Texas." They are from Texas. What can I even say?

Now, the action.

Keith Brown can't swim. Does anyone listen to me? How many times have I preached this on TAR? If you're going to do one of these shows, know how to swim and how to drive a standard. Swimming in the open ocean would be a little scary to begin with, but if you don't know what you're doing, well, what are you doing there? Then, he ended up getting help when they reached the island with the downed plane. I don't want the man to drown or get chopped up in boat propeller blades, but is it really fair for him to get taken to the beach while everyone else had to swim it? I think not.

The second team started in Alaska. Sigh. This is where I started to get more understanding of how this game would be played. Finding the morse code and the decoder book in Hawaii was one thing, but having to actually figure out the Stillwater Washington clue got me going, "Oooooooh. Okay." This is going to be much more of a thinking game than TAR. But then when they got to Lake George and just had to start digging in all the rock piles with no clue which one would be the right one? Well, that was just luck, picking the right pile. I think I might have a hard time if I were playing this game figuring out when to just plunge in because it's luck, and when there's a clue to figure out, and I'm afraid I might overthink some of the clues or not get them.

Like the Mount Rushmore clue about history changing things. At first, I thought that was applying to how you viewed the faces. There was a spot where you could only see two faces by virtue of how the mountain was carved, but then there was another spot where a tree had grown up to block the view of one of the faces. So, there was more than one place where you could only see one face, and one of them had only developed over time (with the tree growing). I'm still not sure because of the editing which of those two places ended up leading people to the lockboxes. And I don't know how the teams figured out that the combination was the presidents' presidency number. But if I'd gotten that part, I would've intuitively known to enter the numbers in the order that the presidents appear on the mountain. Yet, it turns out, that was what the clue about history was about - that you enter the numbers not in chronological numbers, but in the order of appearance. So, you see what I mean about the clues - I'm not sure I'd get them all, and if I did, I'm not sure I would interpret them right. I might overthink. I have a very analytical mind, and sometimes it goes into overdrive, complicating things.

A word about the Fogals. It's nice that Preacher Fogal prayed before one of the legs of the hunt, by he's not much of a man of God if he would steal someone else's clue. That was not cool at all when he took one of the Grads' clues right out of the girl's hand. Of course, they were equally foolish asking at the plane crash site if the Fogals would leave them the key to their locker. Why would anyone do that (leave the key)? That would only make sense if you were teamed up for some reason, like the Hanlons and Geniuses did with the lock boxes. Of course, I didn't entirely get that either. What were the Hanlons offering the Geniuses in that team-up? And why couldn't the Geniuses get their box open after the Hanlons got theirs open and told them the combination was "What you just said." And why did they say that anyway, instead of saying the numbers out loud? Was the other team too close and they didn't want them to hear, or do you think the Hanlons were just trying to be coy and not give away the answer, even though it had just been given to them?

The Hanlons can't last too long in this. They're not figuring things out very well, just sort of relying on other teams to carry them, and they're giving stuff away without realizing it (telling the Young Pros that the right location was Mt. Rushmore, not Mt. Roosevelt...has anyone ever heard of Mt. Roosevelt?).

I'm glad the Browns aren't out yet. I kinda like those guys. I would've rather seen the Geniuses go down than the Young Pros. When Francis said they had to dumb themselves down to work with the Young Pros, I automatically wanted them to be eliminated. I imagine they won't last too long. The others will get tired of that one guy barking at them all the time.

And there you have it: Week One. This is going to be fun!

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to the greatest dad in the world - my dad! My dad and I actually did our F Day celebration yesterday. We were able to spend more time together yesterday than we would have today, and we were able to have a relaxing, quiet dinner instead of a crazy, busy, holiday crowd dinner. We've taken to doing that on holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day.

I'm very lucky to have the dad I do. There's no telling how different my life would be in so many ways if he weren't. Thank you for everything you are and everything you've done for me, dad. I love you.

Put your hand out...so I can slap it.

It's amazing to me the culture of entitlement we live in. This is something I could go on about for hours, but today I'll just focus it like a laserbeam on one particular situation. I was reading "Pop Candy" on USA Today's Web site, and the writer mentions that Dustin Diamond, the guy who played Screech on "Saved By the Bell," wants people to send him money to save his house. He's got a Web site detailing his tale of woe. I am curious.

When I get to said site and read his story, I see that he has indeed gotten the shaft from some sheister who was supposed to help him after he bought a house on a land contract and the deal went sour. I didn't know what a land contract was, so I looked it up. Here's the scoop. Land contracts are a seriously bad idea, apparently, and according to Diamond, the only reason he went that route was because he has really bad credit and it was his only option. Now, he wants you and me to send him money so he can pay what he owes, and in return, we get t-shirts.

Now, I'm sure Dustin Diamond is a nice guy. I have no reason to think otherwise, but there are so many reasons that this makes me want to scream. Let's start WAY back at the beginning of Mr. Diamond's saga. He says he has bad credit. Why, Mr. Diamond? Why do you have bad credit? Are you the victim of identity theft and it hasn't been straightened out yet? No mention of that, so I'll assume no. Let's make the more logical assumption - that you spent money you didn't have and didn't meet your financial obligations. And you must've screwed it up good for your credit to be so bad you can't get a normal mortgage. I mean good Lord, illegal aliens can get regular mortgages in this country. You might pay a higher rate than someone with good credit, but just about anyone can get a mortgage somehow or other. Just how many credit accounts did you default on to get where you are?

And how exactly does that happen anyway when you've worked on a hit show during your teens? Did your parents rob you? Did they take every cent you earned and then kick you out of the house when the show ended, leaving you with nothing - no earnings, no college education and no marketable skills to support yourself (I'm assuming acting was not among your skills since your compatriots on the show went on to other acting gigs and you're left with standup that apparently doesn't pay your bills)? If they did that, I'm sorry for you that that happened, and I can see where being left penniless could lead one to get into credit trouble. But if that's not what happened, then surely you had money to support yourself, so what kind of financial irresponsbility must you have engaged in to get so screwed up credit-wise?

So, apparently he mismanaged his finances in a colossal fashion, then made yet another really bad financial decision by buying a house on a land contract because he seemed to feel he had no choice. Um...yes, you did, Big D. You didn't have to buy a house. You could've rented for a while, saved up, paid your bills and repaired your credit, then bought a house like a normal person. That you keep making one bad choice after another is lamentable, but does not make you a victim.

Now, the New York Capital Exchange guy is clearly a scumbag. I give you that for sure. I'd punch the friend who led me to that guy for starters, and I hope to God you made copies of everything you signed. It's scary to think what further damage you might have done with this jerk. But let me see if I can sum some things up for you, because it sounds like you need someone to.

1. The NYCE guy is not going to help you. Find out exactly what your transactions with him entailed and if there's anything you need to get out of. Get a lawyer for this. I realize you're a financial moron, and this will mean spending money, but for chrissake you need someone who knows what they're doing to guide you out of this morass.

2. You're going to lose your house. That's it. That's all. You made a bad deal, and it didn't pay off. You were essentially renting, and your landlord is booting you out. Next time you want to buy a home, get a Realtor or real estate lawyer to help you. Again, do not rely on your own savvy. You have none. Pay someone to help you who knows what they're doing. You can now see what happens when you don't.

3. Do not ask strangers who work every day and manage their finances so that they have money leftover to donate to worthy causes (like Make a Wish, environmental groups, medical research, animal shelters, helping friends and family in need...) to give you that hard-earned money just because you seem to have no financial responsibility. You got yourself into this. You need to get yourself out. It's the only way you're going to learn how to manage your financial life, and you might just get a little dignity along the way. Asking for handouts from strangers ain't dignified, pal. If you can't pay your bills with what you earn, get another job. I know you'll probably say, "But showbiz is my life!" Fine. Work 40 in an office during the day, and do standup at night and on weekends. When you hit it big, you can quit the day job.

It never ceases to amaze me how people who won't make the sacrifices to have a stable financial life (whether that means working a boring 40-hour job somewhere or just living within your means and putting back some savings) expect the people who DO make those sacrifices to subsidize their choices. As I said at the beginning of this, it's just another symptom of the direction our society has moved in, in which no one wants to take personal responsibility for their choices. We all make bad choices - hell, I've made some recently. But you have to own up to it and accept the consequences. In this case, D, it's losing your house. That does NOT mean that someone else (like NYCE guy) is absolved of their bad behavior. He's just as responsible for his behavior as you are of yours, so that guy is still a big, fat jerk. But learn from it and move on with your hand in your pocket instead of stretched out to strangers. You'll feel better about yourself, and we'll all feel better about you.

The deserve a drink named after them - the Spaztini.

Zowie, McFunTime did I have a great evening last night! My friend Angela had a birthday last night (you can finally buy beer legally Ang - hurrah!), and we had a rare Wednesday night outing. Oh sure, dinner or happy hour might not be unheard of on a Wednesday, but I'm talking about a night out. And it was a blast!

We started at 219 West, a hip little joint in the Warehouse District that I like. A sharp jazz combo, the Kris Kimura Quintet, was playing, and we pigged out on drinks and 1/2 price appetizers. It's never a bad evening when it starts with "Mack The Knife."

But things really kicked up when we headed across the street to Cedar Street, another of my favorite venues. Cedar Street features indoor, air-conditioned bars flanking an open courtyard area with a stage. In the courtyard, it was hot, even at night, and the place was packed (who knew Wednesdays were a big night?), so sweating was a given. Five seconds into that portion of the evening, and I knew I'd need a shower before I went to bed. But I grabbed me a Bellini-tini and pushed any concerns about it out of my mind. If I was sweating, so was everyone else.

I wasn't going to go to this portion of the evening. It's a Wednesday, and we didn't head to Cedar Street until 9:00, when I'm usually winding down, but I was having a good time and enjoying my friends, so I figured what the heck. I can go to bed early tonight. I'm SO glad I went! We saw the most FUN band!!! They're The Spazmatics, an 80s cover band with a twist. The twist is they're dressed as complete nerds, and they play the whole show like that - dancing like nerds, talking to the crowd in nerd voices, and yet they are fantastic with their music! I swear, it's like actually being at a Devo, Go-Go's, or WHAM! concert - they're incredible! We danced non-stop. They go on my list of favorite Austin bands with:

Mingo Fishtrap
Vallejo
Dysfunkshun Junkshun

Suprisingly, I woke on my own at my normal time to get up for work. I don't know how that happened considering the truncated sleep I'm on, but I'll ride the wave until it hits me sometime this afternoon. As I said earlier, I'll be hitting the hay early tonight. But it was so worth it! Thanks for having a birthday, Ang - it was so much fun!!

Stepping out there.

I read a column this morning that touched me. It's a blog/column maintained on the USA Today Web site by Craig Wilson. I like his column and wish I knew how to get a job doing that. Anyone who reads this regularly may have just choked on their milk that I said that. Come on- I could learn how to do a column. Really. I could.

Anyway, it prompted me to weigh in on what can be a volatile subject: gay adoption. I have to say that on this subject, I'm pretty darn liberal. I think that any child without a solid home - a real home with at least one responsible parent who is going to be there for them until they're an adult to help guide them and educate them and give them the necessities - is a child who has been let down by the world.

You don't get a choice whether you're born or where or to whom. Babies and children are helpless - at the total mercy of their circumstances. Some of us are exceptionally lucky. I personally hit the bonus ball in life's lottery. I was born; I was born in America; I was born in Texas (had to throw that one in there); and I was born to two, loving, stable parents who gave me a peaceful, secure home and encouragement that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. I never knew poverty or great illness or the instablity of my family breaking up. I had just what every child deserves.

And in a perfect world, all adoptive parents would be just like mine. But if you're a child who doesn't have parents, or your parents are abusive and you've been sent to live in an orphanage, and you have nothing and nobody, do you really care if you have one great parent or two to love you and take care of you? Do you really care whether that person loves someone of their own sex or the opposite one? Or do you just want a safe place to live, with food on the table, clean water and hope?

I have gay relatives. One I know would've been a great mom. She never tried to adopt, and now that she is caring for aging parents, I doubt she'll try. I hate to think how hard it might have been for her if she had, though. She would've been a loving, responsible, funny, caring parent. Any child would have been lucky to have her as his champion in the world. Who could she have saved? But some in society say that no, it's better for children to languish in orphanages, with no one, one of many, than to be cared for individually by someone who loves "wrongly."

Whatever your feelings about someone's orientation, whether or not you're comfortable with someone's choice of partner (and let me say I'm not always all that comfortable with some of my heterosexual friends' choices of partner!), does that REALLY outweigh the good that a gay person or couple can do in saving a child from a life of anonymous poverty, alone and unwanted? What greater damage that must do than being fed, housed, clothed, educated and taken care of by someone who prefers partners of their own sex.

Random thoughts

Today is a random thoughts day!! What's on my mind lately? Here ya go:

1. Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock's new movie, The Lake House. A couple who falls in love via love letters, but they're in different times - he's in 2004, she's in 2006. Stupid.

2. Why are Japanese gameshows so psycho? There's something very pent-up about that society.

3. The World Cup. I'm glad the world is excited about it. Good for them! Gooooooooooal! But I don't care. I've tried to like soccer. I've gone to UT soccer games, cuz Lord knows I love all that is UT. I used to date an English guy in college and watched him play and watched pro games with him. I encouraged my nephew to play. But I just don't care. I don't. In fact, now that the Horns are out of the College World Series, I don't see that I'll be tuning in to ESPN for about 3 months. Sports begin again for me with college football in September. That's just the way it is, man. And I'm not apologizing. I don't have to apologize to the world for not liking the sport that everyone else likes. I don't have to like it. I don't like caviar just because snooty people act like it's good. It's not. It's nasty. I don't believe in living your life under the thumb of peer pressure and saying you like something because everyone else tells you that you should. You like what you like. Be an individual.

4. Britney Spears has gone on record that her marriage is "rock solid" and her husband is "amazing." Let the divorce count down begin. Like I should care, right? I must be jealous deep-down that some uneducated, trashy young thang with limited talent is a multi-millionaire with a husband and children and I'm...not a millionaire and single. But then, I don't carry the seed of a somewhat trained monkey, so I win. I apologize if I've offended trained monkeys by comparing them to Kevin Federline.

5. I love pizza. Papa John's is a favorite, but the cinnastix from Domino's rock my world. (I think this one may be related to my entry from yesterday - that I'm watching my diet again.)

6. I don't own a BlackBerry. I'm sure I would like it if I had one. But is my life diminished because I don't? I don't think so, but can I really know until I have one? No, I'm not in the market to buy one. But I probably will one day because I always like technological stuff once I finally pony up and get it. I'm just a slow adopter. And what's the difference between a BlackBerry and a Sidekick? Are they the same thing?

7. I've decided that I'd like to retire early. Like now. Could someone possibly finance that for me?

8. It's June. It's in the upper-90s. It's very, very hot. And I'm enjoying it. I am. It probably sounds crazy to some people, but I don't mind that it's crazy hot, because that means it's summer, and it's fun that it's summer! I wish I got summers off. I don't. I still have to go to work every day, but summer means cookouts, and shorts and extra hours of daylight, and I'm just happy about it. Yea summer!

Okay, that's enough for now. I hope you're also enjoying summer, pizza and pop culture. I know I am. If you're enjoying soccer and movies about time travel romance, well, I'm glad you're having fun. It's all good.

On the road to normal.

Well, I'm not completely recovered from my cold, but I'm trying to get back to my normal stuff now. The first thing I'm attacking is food. My cold hasn't interfered with my ability to eat, like a stomach virus would. It just meant that I didn't care - I ate whatever I could find in the house. After a week of cruise eating, this probably wasn't a good thing. I don't think I gained a lot of weight. I mean, I did get a serious ab workout after coughing non-stop for a week, and I worked out a couple of times on vacation (a couple means twice - I worked out twice). So, I don't have a long way to go. But I do think I may have gotten a wee bit...fleshy, in spots that might have been less fleshy this time last month. So today, it's back to watching what I eat!

A word about cruise eating. You can count this as my first installment on telling about my Alaska trip. You always hear about non-stop gourmet food on a cruise. On my cruise, at least this wasn't entirely true. We did have some amazing food in the dining room for lunch or dinner (we never tried the dining room for breakfast). But we didn't always want to go to the dining room. You had to eat at a specific time if you ate there: 12-1 for lunch, and 8:15 for my folks and me for dinner. If those times weren't going to work for us, we had to eat from the buffet. I think the buffet lunch was 11-2 and dinner was 6-8 or something. For lunch and dinner, the buffet often had some of the same items as the dining room, but not entirely, and sometimes it wasn't all that great.

Now, what if I'm hungry at 5:00? Well, then my only option is the grill by the pool for hamburgers or hot dogs. They also had a nacho bar. This is a reasonable enough option if the food is actually kept at the right temperature. I have to assume that the day I had a hot dog there, it wasn't, since I spent the entire night that night in the bathroom with bad things happening above and below. It wasn't one of those viruses you hear about where the half the cruise patrons are taken out. By the next day things began to clear up. But I was wary of the grill after that.

What about breakfast, you say? Well, the best option we found was room service. We only used it a couple of times at the end of the trip, but probably we'd use it more if we cruised again. The taste and variety of the food on the breakfast buffet was fine, but the line was INSANE! It was so long. The lunch line could also get pretty unbearable, and there was rarely enough seating. But for breakfast, if you could hang in there, you could have yourself a nice breakfast. They had a dish I particularly liked which was a mueslix with yogurt and fruit and oats. It was goooood. I had it almost every morning that we ate in the buffet!

Dinner in the dining room was everything you always hear about with cruise food, though. It was awesome. One night I had surf and turf, and I swear, it was one of the best steaks I've ever had. If you've never taken a cruise, you eat with same folks at the same table each night. We had a great couple from Ohio at our table, and we really enjoyed eating with them. We were really lucky. How awful would it be to be stuck with someone you couldn't stand every night? You'd either have to endure them or not get the good food!

Well, for the moment, I guess that's all about the food. If I think of other things while recapping my amazing trip, I'll slip it in there. All I've accomplished at the moment, though, is making myself hungry!

History and music buffs, this one's for you.

How old are you? Are you over 30? If so, you, like me, probably spent many hours listening to the sound stylings of Hall and Oates, Kenny Loggins, Michael McDonald, and others in the category of music known as "Yacht Rock." Or at least, that's how it's known at this Web site: http://www.channel101.com/shows/view.php?media_id=1337.

The guys at Channel 101 have endeavored to show us the backstory of this amazing musical period/genre. If you're not afraid of foul language and bad wigs, watch the videos and learn. It's history, right? I mean, this is all true. Right???

Bad people should be outed.

I just checked one of my favorite blogs, James Lilek's "The Bleat" and he had a link to this Web page about some amoral people who found a Sidekick in a cab and refused to return it when the owner contacted them and offered them a reward.

These people are garbage, and the owner's friend decided to put them on display. The Internet can be a wonderful tool for shining a light on cockroaches.

I must have the bird flu.

My agony continues. I cannot shake these freakin' cold. I thought I was on the mend yesterday. I started feeling better in the afternoon, and I had high hopes. Then last night, when I got in bed, it started. The coughing. The hacking, body-wracking, I-think-I'm-going-to-barf-in-the-middle-of-my-cough coughing. The cat actually went and laid down in the bathroom and watched me, presumably gauging whether she should remove herself all the way to the other bedroom so she could get some rest. It was a nightmare.

Or rather, it would've been a nightmare if I could've ever gotten to sleep. I did actually get to sleep at some point - I'm not sure when, but it was sometime after midnight. And it didn't last. After Murphy (my cat) was sure I was sleeping peacefully, she decided to throw up. On my bed. At 4:15 a.m. I wasn't sure who I wanted to die - her or me. After I got up, turned on the lights, cleaned up, and went back to bed, I was sure I would sleep soundly, mostly because my alarm was going to go off at 6:00 a.m., so the maximum damage would be waking me after less than an hour and a half of sleep. I'd be deep in REM at that point. And I was. Today hurts.

Oh, and I think the cold may be morphing into a sinus infection. Things this morning are pointing in that direction. I won't elaborate.

So, still no Alaska pictures developed or energy to write up a travelogue. I still say it was worth it, though, even if it led to this hellish cold/possible sinus infection. So, there, virus demon. You don't win. I'd laugh triumphantly, but it hurts my abs.

I'm back (cough).

Well, I made it home late Friday night, but have been sick as a dog with a cold, so I'm just now getting to the blog. And this entry won't say much. I'll have to wait until I'm a little better to truly do justice about my trip. I don't know if the cold came from the cruise ship, standing on too many cold decks for hours trying to film whales and glaciers, or if there was some virus seedpod lurking in my luggage that I unwittingly dislodged and activated sometime after we arrived in Ketchikan. But it ain't fun.

Being unable to do much more than lie on the couch for hours at a time, monitoring the patterns of my drug-taking (Advil Cold and Sinus every four hours, Sucrets every two hours, Zicam every three hours...), did allow me one luxury, though. I watched the USA "The 4400" marathon on Sunday. All of it. Every episode. For like 12 hours or something. I've never watched that show, and boy is it good. I may even rent the previous seasons so I can see all the episodes I've missed. The ones yesterday were "The Essential Episodes" - the ones you need to get the general storyline so you'll be hooked when the new season starts this weekend. It SO worked. I'm totally sucked in.

So, along with my cold, I've acquired a new show to watch. And really, can you ever have enough tv to watch?