Helllllllloooo, Bertha. Your baby brother Arthur was just screwing around. Let's see if you're serious. Welcome to summer on the Gulf Coast.

Labels: texas

My office mate and I were talking today about how this past weekend went. I always want to know what she and her fiancé did because they're young and hip and do fun things. 'Cause they're young and hip they CAN do fun things.

Oh - and they're both from the Eastern Sea Board so this whole Texas thing is still fun and amazing for them both. (Common type of comment from Office Mate "I'm just not used to having all these BUGS all over the place. What are they?? I saw one yesterday that are so tiny you can hardly see it and it was crawling on my HAND!!"*)

So I learn that this weekend she and her fiancé visited some guys up in College Station. She starts to tell me a story about something one of the guys said but she kept stopping because it was so "offensive" and she was embarrassed. The story had begun with "This guy started talking about his catfish". I assured her that, having grown up in Texas, there is no story about a catfish that can offend me, and there is hardly anything a person in College Station could DO with a catfish that would surprise me. So she gives up the story:

They're hanging around this small lake, drinking beer and swimming. One of the guys (Gee he's a Aggie. SHOCKING.) starts talking about these catfish he catches. He thinks that if he could teach these catfish to suck on a part of a guy that guys love to be sucked on (these are NOT the words he used) that he could make a million bucks. He said he would looooove to sit around all day having a catfish suck on him.

One of his Aggie beer drinking friends said "But you're married. That would be cheatin'."

And he says "Naaaw. If it ain't the same species it ain't cheating."

Now ladies and gentlemen, I gotta tell you, I've heard some funny damned logic come out a many a Southern man's mouth but that is some FUNNY SHIT.

I had to assure my Office Mate that no, the Different Species rule wasn't as common to Texas as those tiny red bugs that you can hardly see that crawl on your hands. And let me tell you, I laughed my ass off.

Ain't the same species. Ain't cheatin'. Made my afternoon.

And THEN she wanted me to explain the whole College Station / A&M thing. "When I went there it's like it's everywhere. The whole town is about it. A&M this, A&M that." So I tried to tell her that the only reason College Station exists is so Aggies can have something they can coat in purple. And she said, "And they all wear their A&M RINGS. Who wears their college RING??" And I tried to explain to her that, while Aggies are not actually a cult, that they are very chummy, sort of like Jesuits or Moonies. I think it will take some time to let it all sink in.

*She's also amazed by erratic thunderstorms and tornado warnings, people who drive as if you're in their way when you're doing 65 because they want to go 90, and Fort Worth.

Labels: personal urban drama, texas

Holy cow. This is the sort of thing you hate to wake up to. It's a Texas thing. I don't know if people in Minnesota would really care if this was the headline about their Governor's Mansion. I could be wrong. This building is beloved across the state, and known on sight by most of us.

A horrible loss. Houston has a very bad habit of tearing down historical buildings and replacing them with CRAP. But this one in Austin? This one belongs to Texas.

Labels: headlines, texas

I am going to post this article in its entirety because it is so perfect from beginning to end. It has everything. Crime, reptiles, stupidity, audacity, and laconic law enforcement.

"Just a typical day in Brazoria"

April 15, 2008, 6:03PM

Alligator not the only unusual find linked to suspect

Brazoria inmate accused of trying to steal a TV also had a snake in his car, hair trimmer and video game device in pockets, authorities say

By RICHARD STEWART
Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle


ANGLETON — When William Johnson made a couple of suspicious U-Turns at the intersection of Texas 35 and 288 early Sunday a state trooper pulled him over.

Then the trooper noticed a 6-foot alligator contentedly riding next to the back window of Johnson's car. Johnson said he found the gator on the side of a road.

But it was allegations that Johnson had been taking things out of a mobile home in the nearby town of Brazoria that sent him to jail on a burglary charge. Investigators found a hair trimmer and video game controller in his pockets.

Johnson, 30, and his fondness of reptiles, had already come to the attention of local police, Brazoria Police Chief Neal Longbotham said.

On Friday an officer responding to a call about a man bothering people in the parking lot of a local drive-through restaurant gave Johnson a citation for public intoxication.

Johnson said he was from Tennessee and was on his way to Corpus Christi. He said he'd stopped in Brazoria to work briefly for a tree trimming service.

Johnson advised the officer that there was a water moccasin snake in his car and that the snake had already bitten him on the hand.

An animal control officer found the snake and removed it, Longbotham said.

Johnson refused medical treatment for his hand.

Early Sunday a resident of a local mobile home park said Johnson knocked on his door and asked for help hauling a big television out of a mobile home, Longbotham said.

"The neighbor told him that's not your house," the chief said.

Then the neighbor noticed the alligator in the back seat of Johnson's car, Longbotham said.

Johnson left the television in the yard and drove away.

A few minutes later he was arrested by the trooper. He is now in the Brazoria County Jail, held on $25,000 bail on a burglary charge.

A game warden took the alligator away.

Johnson told investigators that he found the snake and the alligator on the sides of roads and picked them up because he has an interest in reptiles, Longbotham said.

"Just a typical day in Brazoria," the chief sighed.

And now, the funniest of all the comments left by the readers:

"You might be a redneck if..."

And the comment that took the words right out of my mouth:

"Hair trimmer?!?!"

Labels: headlines, texas

The body tote board for today according to the Houston Barnacle:

1 - leg found on the coast down by South Padre
1 - skull found on Hempstead Highway out by Hockley
1 - entire body, nude save two socks, wrists and ankles bound, floating in Galveston Bay near the Causeway.

And it's only 9:30pm! Hell - we could find the other leg, or maybe even a kidney between now and midnight!

Labels: headlines, texas

I met my dear friend Mel yesterday afternoon at The Flower Corner to talk with them about the flowers for her upcoming wedding. After the flower chat, I was driving north on the West Loop, trying to get back to my side of town. It's about 2pm and the loop is PACKED all the way back before the 59 bridge. We're inching along - one of those where you make it to 2nd gear thinking maybe you'll get to move but no, not really.

I'm thinking well it must be an accident. Since the loop was rebuilt a few years ago it's unusual for it to just be stopped at this time on a normal Friday. Inch by inch, I make it toward I-10. When I crest Post Oak and can see the feeder leading up to Memorial, it's truly an "Ah HA!" moment. It's a trail ride. I know that if you're in Boston you can't even begin to understand this, but on a Friday late in February every year, the trail riders finally make it to Houston in anticipation of the Houston Live Stock Show and Rodeo. They've been on the trail - truly - for days or weeks, traveling with chuck wagons and sleeping under the stars. It's a huge thing down here, a religion for some of the folks who ride.



There is one ride, the Salt Grass, that rides down a road close enough to my house for me to just walk down and sit on the curb to watch it go by. It's a little bit surreal to sit down in your urban neighborhoood while 1,300 people go by on horses. I delight in the sound of the horse's shoes clomping on the road and the wind-chime sound of the tack. I've been stopped at a red light while the same ride crossed the road I was on. It's such a gas - people get out of their cars to watch, the riders smiling and waving, people yelling greetings back and forth. The folks who have kids with them - those are the best. They put their kids up on their shoulders, or stand them up on the hoods of their cars, and you can see that it's magic for the kids. It's the only traffic jam you don't mind being in.

Which is why, when I crested Post Oak and saw that the feeder was down to one lane - the trail ride had one all to itself, and that the jam on the loop was because everyone was slowing down to look at the trail riders, it was one of those traffic jams that turns out to be OK.

And I'm pretty sure that folks in Boston have no way to get that. Ya'll should come down here in late February and just pull over to watch the world pass by on a horse.

Labels: cult, personal urban drama, texas

I'm sitting in line at the Jack in the Box this morning waiting for my Grilled Chicken Southwest Salad. On the radio is a commercial for a Mercedes. I'm sort of halfway listening to it with part of my brain.

I remember 21 gallon tank, diesel engine, you'll want a big gulp to drink because the gas mileage is so good you can go from San Antonio to Kansas City without stopping - 600 miles. So all these tidbits are floating around in my head.

Then - get this - at the end, in that really-fast-talking small-print-legalese-voice you hear at the end of commercials sometimes, I heard, "This car does not meet vehicle emissions standards in California, Oregon, Washington, Vermont, or New Hampshire and cannot be purchased in these states. But who cares, because you're in Texas. Yee haw."

I just cracked up so bad. It was all said with the same inflection, and totally unexpected, so it was great. Yee haw indeed.

Labels: texas

Beautiful. Just beautiful.


















Hey, I know hurricanes, OK? Born and raised on the Gulf Coast. Never lived further than 45 minutes from the brown sand and tar balls. Hurricanes? Tropical Storms? Volunteering for the Red Cross? Evacuating? Hoarding bottled water? HUNKERING THE FUCK DOWN? Been there, done that. Will do it all again many times in my life. Maybe even next week.

That guy up there? That's Dean. And yes, Dean is beautiful. When I look at the rings on a tree, or the thousand different shades of orange and pink in a sunset, or the endless forever off land filled with glaciers, what can I think other than "beautiful"? All forces of nature.

The tiniest little green and purple bug crawling on the windscreen of my car as I sit in traffic on Westheimer can delight me. I love to wake up in the morning and see the trails left by the snails that have snailed around in the condensation on my kitchen windows during the dawn. Thunder is primal.

In my life I have sat many nights listening to a transistor radio, turning the dials by candle light because the power lines have been blown down. I have filled my bathtubs with water, counted my canned goods, double checked my battery supply, and brought in all the patio plants so many times I can't remember them all. I have stood on Galveston Island holding photos from that 1900 storm, turning in circles, imagining away the Burger Kings and the Surf Shops and replacing them with the piles of wooden boards, the strewn bricks, the dazed survivors digging for their dead. I see the same buildings still standing that they saw. Old Red. Moody. St. Patrick's.

And still, that awesome swirl of wind and water is breathtaking. Still I stare into that perfectly formed eye as if I am looking deep into the heart of the universe.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not butt stupid. If I were on Jamaica my ass would have been on a plane three days ago going ANYWHERE but there.

Labels: headlines, personal urban drama, texas

Well it's flooding down in Texas....

Labels: headlines, texas, video

In a world where so many families are torn apart by divorce and selfishness, where the children are left by the wayside, I want to share a story with you about a family that is full of love and warmth. I know the people who make up this family. They are kind, funny, honest, and devoted, beyond all else, to their wonderful daughter. Let me tell you, this is one of the most delightful little girls I've ever met.

This is Pete's blog. While he is gregarious and has many friends, he is also a private man. In this story he has taken the very brave step of sharing with the world the story of his daughter, and his family's heartbreaking challenge of being confronted with being told their precious child has PDD-NOS. This is clinical shorthand for Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified. This is part of the autism spectrum of diagnoses.

Pete and his wife are working every day to make the best choices they can to help this beautiful child find her way in the world. They are luckier than many families in that they have good jobs, a fantastic support system of friends and family, and the drive to understand and work through the byzantine world of professionals that quite often offer opposing advice and contradictory services.

This post talks about the state of Texas and the irrational decisions that are made by politicians who control the insurance policies that govern this state. Please go take a read and, if you feel compelled to act, do so. This family has resources and love not available to all families. They all need the support of sane people, and of course, we all know those people are rarely the ones who make the laws.

Labels: bloggers, law, medicine, personal urban drama, texas

I had a little oral surgery yesterday. (By the way, I have a wonderful periodontist and yes, Dr. L., I do feel guilty for baking cookies for my PCP but not for you. I WILL rectify this slight.)

As I sit here the morning after eating my "soft diet" breakfast, it occurs to me that a "soft diet" in Texas is most likely very different from a "soft diet" in oh, say, Minnesota.

I am enjoying my guacamole and refried beans. Last night my chicken tortilla soup was delicious even though I did have to let it sit about 30 minutes so the crispy tortilla strips got mushy. Viva Tejas!

Labels: medicine, personal urban drama, texas

Camping on the Frio. This is Trace and his faithful companion (who can work up a massive amount of doggy drool in his jowls - ewwww) Champ. I've never camped with a seven year old boy and a dog. I'd take them both again. Good company!







And of course, this being Texas, we stopped at Bucees in Luling for the best fudge in the world. I thought I would share some of the most snazzy interior design products available at this fine, fine institution.

Labels: texas, vacation

So! Camping. This is our second time at Garner State Park. The state of Texas has a great state park system and The Husband and I have enjoyed many of them. Garner happens to have been our second choice for the location of our wedding - there is a pavilion there with a beautiful outdoor circular dance floor with an inlaid stone design that hovers over the edge of the Frio River. We ended up going with our first choice, outside of Fort Davis on Blue Mountain, and we are glad we did. But I digress.

We left Houston on Monday. How many ways can I describe rain? Drizzle. Splashsplash. WOOOSH go the 18 wheelers at 90mph in a 70mph zone where they should actually be going 50mph because visibility is only about 4 feet. RAINHARDRAIN. I-10 is so much fun in a torrential thunderstorm. Oh, did I tell you it was raining? And we had a tent? And plans to sleep in a tent? In the woods? WITH THE RAIN? Yeah, we were amazed at our brilliance, too.

Past San Antonio. Gee. It is still wet. Wet as in hail. Hard hail. Is all hail hard? In my experience, yes. It seems harder when it is hitting the hood of your husband's shiny car, which he thinks should remain show-room new looking until it dies at 300,000 miles. So there is a little stress in the Honda.

Into Hondo. Damned that's a nice town. Mainly because the people are nice. Just a little rain. BUT STILL, rain. Leaving Hondo, I remark to The Husband that it would be nice to live in a town where the people are so nice. He remarks that Hondo has a large, active Christian influence. I remark back that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I go on to observe that an active Christian community can result in fewer flip offs in traffic (which by the way, there isn't any traffic in Hondo), less murder, rape, and mayhem. Less spitting of chewed gum onto sidewalks. The Husband remarks that in order to fit into such a community one would have to not be a hoyden. He says this implying that I would not fit into such a community. I remind him that I gave up my hoyden days almost two decades ago, about the same time I gave up wearing black suede come-fuck-me pumps and going without underwear. He just looks at me knowingly. I would have kicked him if my knee still worked so I could move my leg that way in a moving car.

Passing through Sabinal, the heavens open and the glorious God's bright sunshine greets us, shining through a Columbia blue sky with friendly white puffy clouds. Yeah, we're camping damned it. And you can't stop us!

We have a camping strategy. We camp in the spring and in the fall. Now, we haven't camped since the accident so I am special happy happy about this trip. In the spring we always plan adventure for the week after spring break and before Easter. Our experience has proven that during this time, state parks are damned near empty. Garner has about 350 sites for tent campers and vehicle campers. It's a big park. It is bordered by the loveliest quite little river, the Frio (yes, it lives up to its name). We trolled the park deciding which site we wanted. We counted about 20 sites in the entire park in use. WE LOVE THAT! We chose Live Oak and damned if we didn't choose the best site in the park. There were three other campers in this area, all grouped way far away from us, all Winnebago people who were traveling together. So basically we had the whole damned place to ourselves.

For three days. Until God came back with the rain. Yeah, you remember the rain, right? AS IN WET? IN A TENT? On Wednesday afternoon the park host came over to check on us.

"How you folks doing?"
"Great!"
"You know the RAIN is gonna come back tonight?"
"No, we aren't listening to anything. Didn't bring a radio or a phone."
"Well they say it's going to be bad starting about midnight and then it will be really bad all night and then tomorrow, well, maybe you folks want to break camp tonight. Seeing as how ya'll are in a tent and all."

HEY. We have driven to Alaska. We have dodged black bears on the road, survived 18 wheelers loaded with fresh trees hurtling down the Cassiar as if the devil was chasing them when in truth they just really wanted a hot cup of coffee, navigated the Maw Of Hell in California, made in rain in Death Valley. You think we're afraid of a little wet? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' WET. Oh, wait, that doesn't make sense.

Let's just say that I learned something about myself on this trip. I learned that I should be ashamed of all those years I made fun of people who live in mobile homes when tornadoes come. I learned that people who live in Coleman tents when tornadoes come are more better stupider.

Labels: husband, texas, vacation

In some parts of the country the arrival of Spring is marked by a date on a calendar because there is still four feet of snow on the ground. In other parts, it is the cherry blossoms. In Houston there are three fail safe signs.

1. Azaleas in full riot.










2. Patio lunches bussed by selfless legions of pigeons.







3. Quick, low cost, no wait, gas station divorces by an attorney who obviously must be incredibly honorable and successful. (Also does DWI, Bankruptcy, Warrants, Auto Accidents, Civil Cases, and the most valuable of all...consultations!) I just wonder if the van is a prop or if it is actually the shyster's office.

Labels: texas

OK. Time for the conversation I overheard in Austin this weekend. I'm standing in the backyard of the house where I'm staying. I am out there watching The Black Dog run around making friends with Roman, the huge red cutie pie that lives in said backyard. The Black Dog and Roman are Power Peeing which means that The Black Dog will approach a spot. He will smell it. He will wag his tail. He will turn sideways to the spot, lift his leg, and pee on the spot. Then he will happily trot off. Then Roman will go to the spot where The Black Dog just had a pee. Roman will smell the spot. His tail will wag. He will turn sideways, lift his leg, and pee on the same spot. Then he will happily trot off after The Black Dog. This can go on for hours. Where do they GET all that pee??

Anyway, I am standing there and I hear this voice coming over the fence from the neighboring back yard. It is a male voice, an old smoker's voice, a very agitated voice. I am hearing one side of the conversation. It is a LOUD, distressed, and aggressive side.

"Don't tell me you didn't do it!"
"I was there you son of a bitch! Don't tell me you didn't!!"
"What??"
"Don't give me that crap!"
"I WAS THERE!!!"
"I KNOW YOU KILLED HER!"

At this point I'm thinking "Holy shit!" and moving closer to the fence so I won't miss anything.

"Yes you DID. I SAW it!"
"Don't give me that composite drawing bullshit!"
"You bastard!"
"Yeah, well that's easy to say since you're DEAD."

At this point I realize the guy isn't talking on the phone with a murderer. At this point I have an urge to go see how many empty bottles of Mad Dog are in his garbage can. Austin is a one of a kind kind of place.

Labels: texas, vacation

Dear Diary: March 13,2006.

Yesterday I wore at least 1/4 inch of tread off the sides of my tires tearing down 2222 and Lime Creek Road. Total switchbacks, major downgrades (oops there goes the stomach!), altitude changes that make you pop your ears. Three hours on the narrow twisty roads and barely got to 4th gear a few times. Forgot how sore and tired you can get clutching from 2nd to 3rd and trying to steer all at the same time while your tires grasp the edge of a road with a steep drop off and no guard rails. For THREE hours. I got back home, hot showered, swallowed a big Naproxen and slept 14 hours today. PER FECT. A little sunburn, a happy dog, and a WAY happy Miata owner. This is what the car is made for. Stopped at my favorite lunch counter in the Texaco just this side of Lago Vista. It's run by a family from El Salvador and let me tell you... if the drive wasn't so great it would still be worth it just for the tacos al pastor with a big pile of fresh cilantro and chopped onions.

Lots of rain and thunder today - perfect for sleeping curled up under a blanket with The Black Dog to keep my feet warm and all the windows open so I could hear the wrath of God thundering across the sky and flooding Shoal Creek outside. Woke up now and then, ate something, went back to bed. I love Austin. Too bad no one else has the balls to ride in the car with me! It would be fun to hear all the screaming. Oh, and citywide free wifi rocks. AND Austin Java just delivered a mean cheeseburger and caesar salad...right to my door! The only thing they deliver in Houston is pizza and jury notices. I should move. Now if only 2 bedroom houses in bad neighborhoods didn't cost $300K. I'll tell you later about the psycho in the next door back yard who had alllllll these conversations I got to listen to whether I wanted to or not.

Labels: miata, texas, vacation

Unpaid endorsement:

Are you like me? Do you get the itch to drop the lid and go buzz around in the hills with The Black Dog slobbering in the passenger seat, the wind blowing both of your ears back and both of you wearing goofy grins, grooving on Bob Wills, the Stones, and Dwight Yoakum?

Are you like me? Does this itch come on the SAME FREAKING WEEK every year, when the redbuds are blooming and the sun is warm, the breezes are sexy, and those who suffer from allergies are sniffling and sneezing hell and gone all over the place?

Are you like me? Too stupid to write it on next year's calendar that YES this will happen again and you should reserve lodging in January? Instead of waiting two or three days before you need to go? Since you always want to go the same week as SXSW??? Even though you have less than no interest in going to SXSW? But THAT IS WHERE THEY KEEP THE HILLS????

Be like me. Be BRILLIANT and resourceful. Think. Hmmmm. SXSW. Arts, creative, talented, young freaks (meant in only the best way) descending en mass upon my state capital for a week's worth of bacchanaling. Hmmm. College students. They always need money. And most of them need money to spend at ....SXSW! AND most of them will either be on Spring Break or volunteering/working/partying at SXSW!! Sleep where THEY live!

Here's the unpaid endorsement part (I know, you've been waiting. And wondering.) Craigslist! Woohoo!! I have achieved the impossible. I have nabbed an entire garage apartment for $55 a night (linens included, even) during the busiest week in Austin (except when we're inaugurating another idiot as governor, which we do like clockwork). In the heart of Austin. And not on a nasty freeway. Just around the corner from the Omlettry! Can you say...breakfast?? And there's even a nice big yard where The Black Dog can chase Austin squirrels after he climbs out of bed in the morning. SWEET.

Labels: texas, vacation

Best spam subject line in a long time. Rarely in life do you run across the proper useage of a semicolon, not to mention a spam subject line that not only is a complete sentence but also spelled correctly. Brings back wistful memories of my late teens. Laying on the beach on Boliver with Liz. An ice chest full of Bacardi and Coke, lots of "Sun In", oil field helicopters ferrying workers out to rigs, and trashy bodice rippers to read. Heroes named "Dirk", "Lance", and "Beau".

I prepared to flee, of course, but something stopped me - his look; proud and fierce, and yet strangely vulnerable and even wistful.

Labels: texas, vacation

I hit 20,000 today. I had fantasized about hitting it on the north side of 166 going around Blue Mountain in West Texas, or maybe on 1431 west of Austin. Instead, I hit it driving home from the hardware store where I got a couple of keys made and bought some new door hinges and some screws. But hey - at least I made it to 20,000! My last Miata didn't even live to 4,000. Zoom Zoom!

Labels: miata, personal urban drama, texas

OK kids, lets all sit back and watch Carol's head explode! Ready? BOOM.

Rick Perry is slime. He is a sanctimonious, hypocritical autocrat who goes to sleep in Merck's back pocket every night. He has handed down from on high an order requiring "Texas Schoolgirls" to get Gardasil vaccinations. He even went so far as to say that requiring Gardasil is no different than requiring polio vaccinations. Hmmm... I'm not an epidemiologist but I can put cervical cancer in one hand a polio in another and see that one is seriously different from the other. BIG FREAKING DIFFERENCE, Governor Goodhair*!!!

You know, a couple of years ago the Perry family sent out an official Holiday Card with a picture of Rick, Anita, and two kids. Sadly, the two kids weren't the Perry's kids. We in Texas decided that maybe the Perry family thought maybe their kids just weren't pretty enough? Not that that has anything to do with this jackboot governmental interference with a parent's right to direct a child's health care, I just think it is indicative of the kind of slime he is.

*We're gonna miss you, Molly!

Labels: headlines, medicine, texas

The following is reprinted from a "Letters to the Editor" column in Douglas County, Oregon. I don't think I could say it better myself.

I have a question not only for Douglas County, but for the entire state of Oregon. Like a lot of other folks in this state, I have a job. I work, they pay me. I pay my taxes and the government distributes my taxes as they see fit. In order for me to get that paycheck I am required to pass a random urine test, which I have no problem with.

What I do have a problem with is the distribution of my taxes to people who don't have to pass a urine test. Shouldn't one have to pass a urine test to get a welfare check because I have to pass one to earn it for them?

Please understand I have nothing against helping people get back on their feet. I do, on the other hand, have a problem helping someone sit on their butt. Could you imagine how much money the state could save if people had to pass a urine test to get a public assistance check?

-Leonard Wilson
Riddle, Oregon

I am always delighted when I hear something that is a new idea that makes so damned much sense. You know, I was in Oregon about ten years ago and I really liked it. Hello, Austin. Are you listening? Yeah. Right.

Labels: headlines, opinion, texas

Houston radio sucks. It's just the truth. Back when I was but a wee girl, we had kick ass radio. KLOL 101 was the only radio anyone ever needed. Then in the 90's is started to get moldy. By the end of the decade it had already died a slow death and was finally put out of its misery not long after that. With its demise came the infection of Radio Viva Latino Spanglish Blah Blah (HEY PEOPLE - there ARE still people in Houston who aren't into Modern Country, Rap, or SALSA.)

So what's a girl to do when NPR isn't on? This one listens to right wing wacko talk shows. It's the best comedy available since the original Saturday Night Live cast (Jane, you ignorant slut). Speaking of Saturday Night Live...

(How's this for a segue?)

A couple of days ago all the wackos were beating the dead horse of Obama What's His Last Name Again coming out of the druggie closet. The opinions ran the gamut from "As long as he didn't commandeer a national guard crew to go rescue his ill gotten gains from a freezer during a natural disaster I'd vote for him", to "Bin Ladin is running for PRESIDENT?"

But one guy, oh man, this one guy (THIS is why I love talk shows) calls and says, in defense of Obama I guess, "Well it's a well known fact that Bush did cocaine. Yeah. Hell yeah. It's documented!"

The radio host questioned that, saying that it was alleged, it was bandied about, but that Bush never admitted it.

So radio caller wacko guy says: "Yes it WAS documented. It's a fact! It was on Saturday Night Live!"

Damned I need to be careful listening to this stuff while I'm driving. You ignorant slut.

Labels: clever blahblahblah, headlines, texas

I know we all hear about wacko law suits but this one is straight the the lawyer's mouth. This by the way happens to be one of the few lawyers (like, three, period) who I know to be an honorable person.

This evening we had a Cult meeting at our Cult leader's house. A little after Christmas cult get together. One of the member's husbands, Honorable Lawyer, joined us which is a treat because he doesn't come out often and he is a wildly funny guy. He decided to tell us a story about a case his firm is working on right now.

You may know (but probably don't) that Texas has developed a problem over the last few years in the form of wild hogs. Note, I'm not talking about javalinas, which are a whole nother story and let me tell you a javalina is a sight to behold as long as you're in a sturdy car that is big enough so that a javalina can't tip it over if it gets pissed off at you. By the way, all you have to do to piss off a javalina is exist within its sight. Also, javalinas are decidedly ugly creatures. And they smell. Bad. But I digress.

Wild hogs. They're hell and gone all over the place here in Texas. So according to Honorable Lawyer, one night a month or so ago a man was driving his truck down a lonely road when lo and behold he approaches on the road a dead wild hog. Chances are the hog was hit by another vehicle and died. So the truck guy swerves to avoid hitting the dead hog. But he does it badly, goes off the road, hits a fence, bounces off the fence, and rebounds across the shoulder past a guy wire holding a big tower of some sort. Not so bad, eh? The bad part is that when the truck rebounded off the fence and headed for the guy wire, the truck guy's head somehow got pushed out the open window of the truck and well, lets just say a human neck hanging out a truck that has just rebounded off a fence is no match for a guy wire. Think Marie Antoinette. And not the cake part.

Honorable lawyer then says the truck guy's family is suing. Everyones first thought is, they're suing the company that owns the guy wire because they should have anticipated that one day a truck guy might have to dodge a dead hog in the road, rebound off the nearby fence, and get his head chopped off by the wire. But nooooooo. Second thought is the family is suing the farmer who owns the fence because it wasn't a break away fence and he should have known that one day a truck guy would crash into it while avoiding a dead hog on the road and the fence should have been space age designed to break away upon impact. But noooooo.

The family is suing the unknown guy who hit the hog and killed it in the first place. YES, ladies and gentlemen, THIS IS TEXAS. So the first thing the law firm is charged with is finding the person who hit the hog. Can you imagine that this is what these attorney people were shooting for when they were studying torts? I mean seriously.

I suggested that the law firm do a forensic psychoanalysis of the hog. Maybe the hog was just really sad and committed suicide by motorist. If that's the case then the hog killer is an innocent hog killer and they can sue the guy with the fence instead. Or maybe, they can sue the lawyer that first took the case. But can a law firm sue itself?

Labels: law, texas

With all the horror stories the news delivers ever day about criminals using guns to kill other criminals (Hello, Gang Wars!) it's Horror and Mayhem all over the place. When a homeowner uses a gun to lawfully protect his/her home and hearth, its is seldom heard of and never a lead on the nightly news. The headline inequity helps create The Sky Is Falling panic and screams of "Take away guns from people!". I still say if you take the guns away from lawful people, the only people who will have guns are the criminals, since you know, they don't get them lawfully anyway. Score one for the good guys! I think I'll go give my Ruger an extra coat of oil tonight just 'cause I can.

Apparent Robbery Goes Fatally Wrong
Copyright 2006 Houston Chronicle

Two men were fatally wounded and two others taken into custody early Wednesday after homeowners in east Harris County opened fire on them during an attempted robbery, the sheriff's office said.

Robert Deleon Jones and Jonathan Garcia were fatally wounded in the 3900 block of Crosby Barbers Hill about 2 a.m. Garcia died at San Jacinto Methodist Hospital, and the other man died at Memorial Hermann Hospital.

Investigators said they were told that Jones, Garcia and two other men had been attempting to rob the residents.

The unidentified homeowners apparently were within their rights protecting their property and will not be charged in the shootings at this time, sheriff's Sgt. N. Araguz said, but the surviving men — Charles Duran and Rodney Jones — face charges of aggravated robbery.

Labels: headlines, law, texas

"I'm going to tell them why I'm qualified for the job, you know -- I used to work in Alaska clubbing baby seals, things like that," he says.

This is another "Only in Texas" post. Damned I love Houston Press. You won't read about THIS in The Chron. Steve Hoyland is running for Galveston County Dogcatcher. Or he would be running for that position, if it were on the ballot. Steve's campaign slogan? "Cat. The Other White Meat."

Labels: texas

It's wedding anniversary time again. We're* retreating to a lovely little yellow beachhouse down on Boliver. I have a special talent for planning vacations and having one of two things happen. First, it usually rains. I swear. My husband and I got rained on in Death Valley. Twice. Second, if it doesn't rain (and sometimes even if it does) SOMETHING happens to be happening wherever we're going and I usually don't find out about it until I've already put down a non-refundable deposit. Often the something isn't a whole hell of a big deal for example, planning to go to Anahuac the same weekend as GatorFest.

But sometimes, just sometimes (thank all deities), the thing that is happening happens to include an estimated 300,000 yes THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND people riding HAWGS. Yes. I booked a romantic four day vacation on the Texas Gulf Coast for the same weekend that the Lone Star Rally will literally ROAR into town. And by town, I mean Galveston, Texas (the birth place of Barry White).

Galveston (the island) is on average about two miles wide and about 32 miles long. It's normal population is about 60,000. This weekend it will be 360,000. This might be poetic since the city of Galveston was second only to Ellis Island for the number of immigrants processed durring the whole Neil Diamond Coming to America thing. But you know what? They didn't come on motorcycles with glass packs.

This is a quote from the website of one of the vendors from last year in reference to their white palm cowboy hats:

Tighten the Stampede Strap & it's a Texas motorcycle helmet.

It's the toughest, most resilient hat known to the American Cowboy! You can crush it, twist it and mash it into your saddlebag - then wet it, shape it and wear it dancin', to the gala, to the cook off -

Hell, wear it to bed - It's a kick ass hat!

Three observations:

1. MOTORCYLE HELMET?
2. Honest to GOD people here really do wear cowboy hats to galas. But they're usually black. That hats, not the people. Not that black people don't go to galas. They do. And even THEY sometimes wear cowboy hats. Also black.
3. I am sad to say I did once know a man who wore his hat to bed. And not to be sexy, either. Because it can be. Sometimes.

* "We're" usually includes the Black Dog but this time he's being lovingly cared for at home. He loves it when his aunt comes to dog sit. He's too neurotic to kennel.

Labels: husband, texas, vacation

So, in case you haven't heard, Jeff Skilling is going to the slammer. The FEDERAL slammer. And that's worse than a state slammer because you don't get your sentence shortened by 3/4 because of prison overcrowding.

To quote today's Houston Chronicle:

In the hearing, Lake ordered Skilling to be confined at home until the U.S. Bureau of Prisons determines when and where he will report to prison, a process that generally takes six to eight weeks. The ex-CEO must wear an electronic monitoring ankle bracelet at all times so federal authorities can track his movements, and he can leave his home only for specified reasons, such as grocery shopping or medical appointments.

OK, first off - I guarantee you that Jeffery Keith Skilling does NOT do his own grocery shopping. That's for mortals.

The Chron reported yesterday that Judge Lake was looking at recommending Jeffie get stuck in the federal prison at Butner, North Carolina. So I thought I would take a look at his probable new home:



Not exactly glamorous, eh? Then I thought, well, let's compare and contrast, as we were taught to do by Mrs. Mendel in 6th grade. So I got in my little zoomzoom and, along with The Black Dog, drove down to River Oaks so you could all appreciate the visual impact of his new -v- his old home.

Oh, and his old (current) home? How about a cool $5,223,991 current appraised value. What do you get these day for $5.2 million in Houston? You get a lot, including two rec rooms, five bedrooms, six full baths, one half bath, your basic (HA!) living, dining, kitchen, and study. Oh, and don't forget the three wood burning fireplaces, a pool, spa, outdoor bbq and canopy. You get a little more than an acre of prime real estate and about 9,200 square feet of luxury living space. You also get a tax bill of $126,015 which by the way is only slightly more than the entire market value of my house and I live in a pretty darned nice house. Now, I know this might sound like "oh she's a bitter person who is jealous of rich people!" but the truth of the matter is I'm only bitter about the size of my feet and I'm only jealous of Patti Hansen*.

I'd been to his house once before (although, that time I had been invited as opposed to the low level stalking I did today) but even so I got lost once on those narrow twisty roads. I persevered and brought home this picture for your enlightenment.



I guess the upside is that at least he's used to living behind locked gates. Too bad he'll have to sell it to pay his $45 million fine.

*What, you don't know who Keith Richards' wife is?

Labels: texas

All you Northerners? Go right now and apply for that second home mortgage to pay your heating bill in February. Make sure your snow shovel is sharp. Get an extra space heater, and one of those electric blankets, too. Maybe three or four. Stock up on non-perishables, batteries, and fire-wood.

Why? Because the headline today is "US Government Predicts Mild Winter". This is the same government that predicted 16 hurricanes this summer along with about 6 "killlers". So I figure that means ice and death for the north.

Remember a few years ago when there was a horrific winter storm in Canada and people were left for multiple weeks with no power, no food deliveries, no cleared roads? Yeah, think about it. They're from the government, and they're here to help.

Brrrrrrrr.

Labels: opinion, texas

It's October now. On the Texas gulf coast, that is the equivalent of April for a twelve year old stuck in an algebra class, 4 weeks away from summer. The hurricane season officially ends at the beginning of November, although there is still the rare "it could happen" kind of freak chance of a storm before Thanksgiving (sort of like getting a late notice that school is not over, that you have to re-do algebra in summer school).

I'm sure you remember The Gulf Coast's Great Summer of Storms* that was 2005. At the beginning of the 2006 season, headline in May was very "Run For Your Lives!":

National Hurricane Center and two other National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration agencies issued predictions for the 2006 hurricane season including calling for 16 named storms, six of them major hurricanes.

Today the headline in the Chronicle is:

Expert: No more bad hurricanes expected in '06

The story quotes a current statistic: "So far this season, the Atlantic basin has seen nine named storms and five hurricanes."

I swear every time I hear or read the words "hunker down" I want to snort chocolate milk out my nose.


*I suggest that the Weather Channel steal that and use it in a restrospective soon.

Labels: texas

Houston is sizzling. And it's not just because "It's Hot!"*

Houston is HOT because our crime rate has increased in the last year. Maybe you've heard that some of the folks from New Orleans are not the most upstanding citizens in the world and now they're HERE. Want some? I thought not.

Houston is also HOT because once again we have a total RUBE for a police chief. His latest move has been to prohibit officers from chasing suspects who don't stop when they see the bubblegum lights behind them IF they're being pulled over for a "minor traffic offense". The problems with this policy are voluminous.

The first problem was that our police chief (get this - he actually lives in Ari-freaking-zona) told the MEDIA about the policy before he told the POLICE OFFICERS. That actually turned out to be a good thing because the outrage was so systemic that MayorBob (our chief's benefactor) had to say "Hold on, Hurtt. Let's think about this. At least until it comes off the front page of the Barnacle." Yeah, Hurtt suggests that the officer, instead of running down the criminal (because you become a FELON the second you run from a cop) they should instead make note of the license plate and a description of the suspect. This is of course VERY HELPFUL when the vehicle has been stolen. HA. HAHA.

The second problem is that stats show that something between 40-60% of the folks who run when they see the bubblegum lights run because they have outstanding warrants, are carrying drugs (and I'm not talking Viagra here), or have a stolen car in their fists. So running from a cop for a "minor traffic offense" can often actually be a sign of a much deeper problem (aside from displaying how FUCKING STUPID you are). Much like voting Republican, or Democrat for that matter, can be a sign of a MUCH deeper problem.

Segue to San Francisco. The latest treat out there on the coast doesn't have anything to do with prepackaged rice products. It has to do with a dead cop and a rabid group of media sluts who apparently think the COP is at fault for dying. The police officer died during a police chase. The scum who was being chased has a rap sheet longer than Johnny Holmes's you-know-what.

Check out this video.**

I am writing the first check to recruit this guy, Gary Delagnes, president of the San Fran Police Officer's Association, to come to Houston and be the first police chief in my memory to have the balls to get up in front of a camera and tell people that a police officer's life is valuable, that people who kill, rape, rob, and run are pieces of CRAP, and that the judges who keep putting them back on the streets should be held ACCOUNTABLE.

I am passionately in love with Gary Delanges, and he might actually knock Keith Richards out of the #1 spot in my heart. You Go Gary! Woo hoo!


*Yeah can you believe the City of Houston actually paid big bucks to a marketing firm to come up with a new "brand" for the city - apparently "Bayou City" and "Space City"*** weren't good enough - and "IT'S HOT!" was the freaking best they could come up with. "IT'S HOT!" ???? FREAKING DUH!!!

**Kuddos to Jason over at Cigars....Donuts..and Coffee for bringing this exceptional piece of video to my attention.

***The problem with "Space City" is...Clear Lake. Clear Lake is about 40 miles SOUTH of Houston and just happens to be where NASA actually lives. When you're watching live feeds from Mission Control you're watching Clear Lake, not Houston. So actually Houston's brand should be "Half An Hour North Of Space City Unless The Gulf Freeway Is Under Construction or Has A Turned Over 18-Wheeler On It AGAIN".

Labels: headlines, texas

"You know I have no political experience whatsoever."

I can't think of a better resume for the next governer of Texas. Just look at what the hell has happened with all the pedigreed pukes we've put in charge of the pink limestone!

You can get your very own Kinky talking action figure.*

You can go find out Why The Hell Not.

And you can put your money where your ideals and honor are.


*Because boy dolls aren't called dolls.

Labels: headlines, opinion, texas

Again with the "Texas, My Texas."

Think Cities, Think Water. London = Thames. Paris = Seine. New York? The Hudson River et al. EVERYBODY knows about Chicago's coastline. San Fran? Bay. Miami? Pshaw. Houston? Hmmm. Ummm...Galveston? Yeah! Houston's water is....Galveston's. Um. Water.

No, boys & girls. I give you the following snips:

"...teeming with dubiously mutant wildlife..."

"They confirmed nobody in memory had made the trip, and added that it would kill me."

"...that's how they blew up the USS Cole..."

"...mounted deer antlers on it and raced it under the name 'Taxidermy'..."

"...a tube of Pepsodent, two rat traps, and a shard of mirror."

"...and the curious gazes of a llama and a burro..."

"Three hundred thousand Mexican free-tailed bats..."

"Holy shit!"

"...Houston police officers beat up Joe Campos Torres, handcuffed him and threw him in the water to drown..."*

"...the bayou's only known flock of red vented bulbuls. "Let's kill them," he told his colleagues..."

"...seven excrement dryers..."

"...a chrome 18-wheeler gas tank brimming with marijuana."

"...the moored military cargo ships Cape Taylor, Trinity, and Texas."

"Oh, my God," the officer said. "I've never even ran across this."

Houston's water is Buffalo Bayou. Join the Houston Press for a rollicking adventure down the watery artery upon the banks of which the Allen brothers founded this urban swamp I call home.


*"Free the Moody Park Three!" (echoes from my youth)

Labels: headlines, texas

If I were a "post title-er" type blogger I would title this post 'Texas, My Texas'

I shall not wax poetic about TEXAS because yeah I know you've heard it before. You either get it or you don't. That's ok.

For those who do, I submit from today's houston.forsale usenet newsgroup:

For Sale: AKC Black Labs $200 or trade

I have a few males and a few females AKC reg. all shots and wormed. Pictures at www.jnsranch.com on the for sale link. I can deliver to the magnolia area if needed. They are about 24 weeks old now. I can email updated pictures on request.

Trade for Calves, chickens, goats, guns or suprise me...
Thanks
$200.00 each

Now, I don't know these folks but I visited their ranch website and I wish them a world of good wishes. I have a friend who's family recently fled the CITY. They bought some land outside of Austin. They have some goats now, some cows, chickens... they're raising their family out there and I admire them greatly. Good people.

If you go visit the JNS Ranch and look at the pictures you'll want a puppy badly. I urge you to take note of the tabby in the picture with the poodles. That cat exudes attitude. I wouldn't mess with him. Imagine being a cat and putting up with all those puppies.

And their goats are pretty fine looking, too.

So anyway, if you've got a gun, or some chickens and want a dog, I'd talk to these folks.

Labels: texas

The Husband and I, in a gas guzzling SUV, driving through La Grange, Texas.

Him: Look! A junction!

Me: Is it a conjunction junction?

Him: No...

Me: Well then what's its function?

Him: And the creators of School House Rock cried.

Labels: texas, vacation

I am sitting in a rocking chair with my feet stuck up on a deck rail, my fancy new HP 17" widescreen balanced on my thighs. The rocking chair is on a wood deck painted screaming purple. The deck is on the back of a cabin (also purple, but with patches of aqua and canary yellow thrown in so it can be seen from space). The cabin is hanging off the side of a limestone hill just west of Austin near Bee Cave. There are juniper bushes and mesquite trees as far as the eye can see. There are three Mockingbirds that have been having a serious discussion for the last 20 minutes about who actually does have the right to be the biggest baddest bird on the shale pile about 15 feet down the cliff. It would be hot if not for the comfort a two ceiling fans whirling above me and a cold Negro Modelo on the table at my side.

I've just renewed my domain here at Ain't Chicken for another year. I did it just now, here on the deck, online, using a credit card.

This morning at 3:30am I called my husband (while driving on a twisty, steep, dark, remote, only slightly familiar, wet road) on the cell to tell him I was on my way back from Austin and would be with him soon.

I have become such a hypocrite. When I was 16 I was yelling at my mother because she wouldn't let me go join the protesters down at the South Texas Nuclear Project.

Now I sit here as an active member of a cashless society who talks on a cell phone while driving and pays her bills from the woods in the Hill Country on a wireless computer.

When my mother was a young girl, she and HER mother made their own lye soap off the back of their wooden house in an iron kettle over a wood fire, just inside the fence from the cow pasture and across the yard from the outhouse.

OK. Maybe progress isn't ALL bad.

Labels: personal urban drama, texas, vacation

Life has been insane. But I had a really fun experience this weekend. I travelled to Bryan/College Station which, if you're not from Texas I can understand how you might not know, is the home of THE FREAKING TEXAS A&M AGGIES DAMN'IT AND THAT TOWN BLEEDS MAROON.

A&M isn't just a college. It's a para-military tradition for countless Texas families. It is an honored and respected institute. It is not home to lacrosse teams that rape hookers. It is home to fit, well mannered, focused young men and women (finally!) who are Doing Something With Their Lives. Hoo-za. Once an Aggie, always an Aggie.

I personally met four Aggies this weekend. I know this because after the second nicely groomed, polite, well behaved young crew-cut man opened a door for me, said excuse me, ladies first, or pulled out my chair I realized that this wasn't The Twilight Zone - that this was AGGIEVILLE.

So the second one? I asked him. He held a door open for his girlfriend to pass and then for me and I said "Thank you." He said "Yes ma'm," with a slight tip of his head. I couldn't resist. I said "Excuse me, may I ask you something?" He smiled. I said "Are you an Aggie?"

His girlfriend (cute, well groomed, obviously saving it for the wedding night) had stopped and was watching us.

He smiled and proudly said "Yes, I am!"

I looked at his girlfriend and smiled. I said to her, "I thought so. Are they all this polite and friendly?"

She laughed. He blushed. She said "Not all of them, but he is."

We all chuckled and went on our way.

Then it happened again. And again.

I think that girl was wrong. I think they're all like this. I think I want to move to the land of young, healthy, clean living men in their late teens and early twenties who all have straight, white teeth and would never park illegally in a handicapped space.

Oh! Oh! I almost forgot! ALL women should move to Bryan/College Station. WHY you ask? You know how sometimes an organization will have a car wash fundraiser and put girls in little t-shirts and shorts holding signs to get people to let them wash their cars?

In Bryan/College Station it's the MEN AGGIES who stand out there with the signs and they're only wearing Speedo's, and they hold the signs strategically so that you really want to pull into the parking lot to see what's behind those signs 'cause all you see from the street is flesh and really straight, white teeth.

Labels: personal urban drama, texas

In the lovely month of March I took a short blogbreak. Never done that before. It was good, and I spent part of the time in Austin where, even though I drove too fast on some steep narrow roads and some nights drank too much beer on the back porch of my cabin, I also did a little bit of writing. This is from about two weeks ago:


I find myself in Austin and I called an otherwise extraordinarily witty and intelligent friend back in Houston to ask what she does here - any special restaurants I've never been to, that sort of thing. She says..

"Yeah I think there's this place called like Saltlick or something. They have you know. Um. Meat. Meat and cold slaw stuff. And pickles. And dumplins'."

I laugh.. "dumplins???

She says "Um. I meant to say rolls."

Labels: ac, cult, personal urban drama, texas

I'm not much of one for resolutions, but I do like beer, peanuts and truly excellent beef jerky.

So my gift to you for the new year is a gentle suggestion that you do your very best to treat yourself to the following three products this year. They are the best of their kind available.

BEER. Beer can be REALLY GOOD. But only if you choose carefully. I'm proud to be an American but c'mon guys...anything that looks like piss isn't beer. Negra Modelo, now THIS is beer. It's a dark ale, it's earthy, it's smooth, it smells so good you want to lick the inside of the bottle. I know - you think dark beer and you think Guinness which makes you think ICKY ICKY YUCK YUCK. But this isn't like that. Try it once and you'll agree that Corona should only be used to clean chalk drawings off sidewalks.


What's beer without peanuts? Well, it's darned good. But it's better with something salty and crunchy. Now don't you be going down to the local Stop 'N Rob to get a plastic bag with some little tiny nuts. Go to Hubs and get a vacuum sealed tin of the biggest, freshest, most perfectly salted and roasted peanuts you'll ever experience. Need nuts? Get Hubs. You'll thank me as you suck the salt off your fingers.


And finally...beef jerky. I'm from Texas so I KNOW ABOUT THESE THINGS, OK??? Jerky should not hurt your teeth. Jerky should not take an hour to chew. Jerky should be full of flavor and that doesn't mean just salt. You should be able to bend a piece of jerky and not have it break or crumble like sawdust. Jerky should be Pemmican.

Labels: personal urban drama, texas

In Houston tonight on the only local - yes that's right in the 4th largest city in the nation - only local (A Hearst Publication) newspaper's web site www.chron.com the headline screams out: Astros Win 7-6!

And below that and some links and a nice big color picture of baseball players dousing each other with booze (literally) is the next big story: Quake Toll 20,000 and Climbing.

And so goes the world.

Labels: headlines, texas

This is a picture I took a couple of weeks ago of the last gas pump in Houston that we could find that had gas. That was before they taped it to within an inch of its life. Every other gas station from here to Dallas to Austin just put a plastic bag over the gas pump handle. But these people didn't mess around.

This gas station is just down the corner from where were we live. It played a crucial role in my heart rate a couple of weeks ago today.



We got ready Wednesday night to leave. We got up early and watched the weather. We were still in the middle of the projected path for a cat 4 hurricane. We packed the Husband's big white 30-gallon truck (and sadly left my Miata in the garage to sink or float). We put the Black Dog on the back seat and left before dawn.



A couple of hours later we were well out of Houston and approaching Dayton. We thought hey - EAST IS THE WAY TO GO. We are IDIOTS.

Around 11am, just this side of Kountz, Texas, after having moved about 10 miles in three hours, we had to decide what to do. We had just over half a tank of gas. We knew there was no gas ahead or behind us anywhere near us. We knew the highways were clogged beyond imagination.

We decided safer at home than stuck on the road when the storm hit. So we turned around and drove home.



In desperation, people had turned the west and south bound shoulder of every road into an east or north bound lane. As we drove home we had to go inbetween the two lanes of fleeing vehicles driven by tired, stressed out, hot, frightened people. We were lucky - I really felt for all the people with babies and toddlers in their cars.

So we got home and I just felt cold fear. I felt like I had no options. We couldn't take the gas from my car because it has a protective device preventing the removal of fuel. So we decided we could use it by looking for gas. I drove down Clay and there was the Texaco with a line that was only about 15 cars long (life is ALL about perspective!). Husband came. I went home, waiting and hoping. About an hour later he came home. He had gotten gas before the pumps ran out.

Everything changed when he said he had gas. I felt hope. I had options again.

Of course, we are safe. Most people here in Houston are safe. And lots of people here talk about how the people like my family shouldn't have left - that we clogged the roads and we would have been fine even if the storm had hit Galveston and come up I-45 (like Alicia did in 1983). To those people I say this:

I live in west Houston so I am about 55 miles from Broadway on Galveston. The folks who live in Jasper (where there is still no power but I think they can drink the water now - maybe) live 100 miles north of Sabine Pass and they're not fine at all.

Labels: headlines, husband, personal urban drama, texas

Labels: headlines, texas

I am thinking tonight that in a crisis, your biggest weakness will be your biggest failure.

This has been demonstrated twice recently for those of us on the Gulf Coast.

The biggest weakness of New Orleans and Louisiana is and always has been (and I have a Born There Right to make an honest observation) its government. And it was the local and state governments (and to some extent, the federal ok there I said it) that failed New Orleans. They should have had a better plan. They should have been better prepared.

Houston's biggest weakness is and always has been our traffic. And our traffic was a disaster area for 200 miles in every direction, on every road. People died.

My caveat here is that I think Rick Perry is a boob, but I voted for Mayor Bill White and I look forward to doing it again. When he ran for office I believed it was a first step in politics since he had hit the top in business, and I hope he gives me the chance to support him again in the future.

Back to traffic. Next to Los Angeles, Houston is the most I'M IN THE CAR city in the country. We live and die on our freeways. Some of you may remember that I almost did that second part just last August actually. Our cars are our way to get to our lives. I've talked to you before about our downtown trolley "train". It is totally useless to the vast majority of the 3+ million people here. By the way it still isn't working but they plan to start it up again tomorrow. This in a city with no gasoline. Smart. Don't run the one electric resource we have. The buses are used by very very few people. Texans, and especially Houstonians, are car people.

If you saw the video of I-45 to Dallas or I-10 to San Antonio or 59 to Arkansas, you saw Houston's greatest weakness in disaster mode. We should have had a better plan. We should have been better prepared.

And we means my house, too. I'll talk about that later.

What is the biggest weakness in your city and state?

Labels: headlines, texas

The Husband, the Black Dog, and I are all back home. Houston is stupid-lucky. I'll blog later about what it is like to be part of almost three million people trying to evacuate a city. But right now, I just have two things.

1. Rita is NOT a non-event hurricane. The entire east side of Texas and what was left of southwestern Louisiana are severely damaged. People are stranded in their homes in Port Arthur, which is heavily flooded. Vermillion Parish in Louisiana is under water and many, many people didn't get out. Houston might have been the biggest story last Thursday, but please, please, don't forget that a disaster has swept through the Gulf Coast again, and that thousands and thousands of people are - right now as I sit in my air conditioned home in Houston - literally holding on for dear life.

2. My first major thoughts about how I reacted to a Cat 5 coming this way.

I am terrified of category 4 and 5 hurricanes.
So THAT'S what "fight or flight" feels like.
The generosity and kindness of strangers can bring me to tears.

Labels: headlines, personal urban drama, texas

You sort of have to come up with a chart:

Cat 2 near Matagorda: Stay put
Cat 3 near Matagorda: Stay put
Cat 4 near Matagorda: Leave
Cat 5 near Matagorda: Leave

Cat 2 near Freeport: Stay put
Cat 3 near Freeport: Leave
Cat 4 near Freeport: Leave
Cat 5 near Freeport: Leave

That is pretty much our plan.

Get the medicine, food, & clothes. Get the jewelry. Get the weapons and
ammunition. Get the important papers. Get the pictures off all the tables
and shelves. Get the computers. Get the precious books. Get the dog food. Pack it all, it's going with you.

Bring in everything from the back patio and put it in the front gallery.
Take all the art off the walls, tie it in big plastic bags, store it in hall
closet in middle of house. Seal all the windows. Turn off the water. Put the massive affair of the wedding dress up on a high closet shelf with mother.

ARGUE WITH STUBBORN HUSBAND ABOUT WHEN TO LEAVE.

Yeah life on the gulf coast is swwwwwweet!

Labels: headlines, personal urban drama, texas

Today the Husband and I were supposed to be down on the Dike with the Hobie sailing our lives away. But that crack whore Mother Nature decided to make the radar screen all full of big angry dangerous red and yellow blotches so we couldn't venture out. Aluminum masts and lightning, they just don't mix well.

So instead I stayed at home and did THIS:



Mother Nature is a bitch and Cheetos don't care about the barometric pressure.

Labels: personal urban drama, texas

Man, I loves me some Texas Hill Country. If you haven't been, you're missing something. It is awash in clean, natural beauty, friendly people, good food, and oh yeah, deer.

On of the nicest rivers in Texas is the Guad