Call me crazy

Today was not the lost day that it promised to be. My dull, drab, deplorably boring meeting that was planned to last as long as 12 hours lasted only 5-1/2 hours. So, I had much of the afternoon to myself. That allowed me to zip over to visit my sister for awhile, then go to dinner with my niece and her husband. And now I'm back in the room, and it's only 9:20 pm. What a deal! I could go out for a crazy night on the town in Houston, but I'm far smarter than that. I'll curl up on my down bedspread and watch mindless swill on TV.

I could nest in this room. Flat screen TV, great little desk with wonderful workspace and internet access, a nice view...what a deal!

I do look forward to the end of this monster, though, so I can drive north to Dallas. I miss my wife; speaking to her on the phone is nice, but I like being in the same room with her. Call me crazy.

Brief

I was expecting my meeting with a client board to begin late this afternoon...but it's 7:00 pm and nothing has happened. Of course I have not attempted to find anyone...let them find me.

I drove from Dallas to Houston today, stopping off briefly to see my brother north of Huntsville. The drive seemed much longer than I expected; I left at just after 10:30 am and did not arrive in my room until about a quarter to five this afternoon. That's a lot of driving...and my knees are berating me for it.

The view out of my window is impressive. I'm on the sixteenth floor of a hotel in the near-west part of Houston, across from the Galleria. Lots of lights, beautiful rosy red sunset disappearing from view, and lots of sleek, new buildings.

I've not been in the blogging mood of late; that has not changed today. So...maybe later.

Grumble, Grumble

Today was a blur. I planned to get up at 4:15 am, dash into my office, and get lots of work done before the phones started ringing and the best-laid-plans started falling apart. No such luck. I woke up before 4:15, but turned off my alarm with the intent I would drift off for a few minutes and get up within half an hour. No. Did not happen. I awoke after 6:10, when my wife's alarm went off. I jumped up, took a shower, and went to the office, getting there about 7:20. I was able to get lots done in the 40 minutes before the world woke up to the fact that I was available.

Long and short of it: I got done what I desperately needed, but still have some MUST DO items before I leave town Friday. I have 2 weeks of work to do, 2 days available to do it. Bah!

Grumble, grumble...! I shouldn't have found time for the Daily Show since I'm so stressed...or maybe I should have watched a week's worth on video.

Austin

I took a quick trip to Austin today to participate in a task force assigned to decide on many elements of a CEO educational program series. It took me away from my office, prevented me from dealing with my clients, and made it impossible to work on responding to email. Exactly what I needed! I talked with several people I didn't know well and was able to express my opinions about executive education. Many of my ideas were not adopted, but that's OK. I don't mind the way I used to. I'm either getting more mellow, understanding the world better, or giving up. I like to think it's the first one.

Enough. I have blogged enough for now.

FCC FU--I Love This!

Thanks to my SIL in Mexico for this!

Football

Busy week...and more to come.

Tonight, I attended a University of Toledo vs. McNeese State football game. When I left at the beginning of the third quarter, Toledo was leading 27 to 7.

Despite my lifelong disinterest in football, I enjoyed watching the game. I was with two guys I work with from time to time; both of them are into football and both know I am not. The fact that they offered to simply go to dinner instead of watch a football game, knowing my disinterest, is what led me to decide to go along to the game, instead. If they were willing to sacrifice some fun to accommodate me, then I felt I should sacrifice some food to accommodate them.

And I actually enjoyed it. Of course, had I been the one making the call, I would have left at halftime, but it was fun for awhile.

Despite having had only a bratwurst on a bun and a shared bowl of popcorn for dinner, it wasn't bad. Of course, I am starving at the moment, but my girth tells me I can last the night...about 45 times in succession, if the need were to arise.

So, here I sit in my room, finally blogging after a period of silence. And it's not particularly exciting, but I'm back at it. At least for the moment. I have lots on my mind, but am not in the mood to write much. So, I'll turn on the news.

Ann Richards: A Great Video

The video link below is well worth watching. I have always been an admirer or Ann Richards and this video piece demonstrates some of her attributes that caused me to hold her in such high regard. One of my favorite photos on the wall of my home office is one in which I am sitting next to her; the photo was taken at an association meeting several years ago. If you share my views, you'll like this.

The Experience Economy

I listened to two presentations by Jim Gilmore, co-author of The Experience Economy, today. The first presentation was fascinating, interesting, and eye-opening. The second...more of a conversation with a group of us than a presentation...was exceptional. I am very interested in reading the book and using some of his ideas. He sparked an interest in me to develop some interesting business possibilities.

More later.

Keith Olbermann: Truer Words Were Never Spoken

Keith Olbermann blasts President Bush in a recent "Special Comment" section on Countdown.

Watch and listen to this. If you do not have a high speed connection, read the transcript below. It is riveting.

Video--Windows Media Player version

Video--QT version

Transcript

And lastly tonight a Special Comment on why we are here. Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space.

And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.

And all the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and — as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul — two more in the Towers.

And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.

I belabor this to emphasize that, for me… this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.
And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft", or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here — is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante — and at worst, an idiot — whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.

However. Of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast — of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds… none of us could have predicted… this.

Five years later this space… is still empty.

Five years later there is no Memorial to the dead.

Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.

Five years later this country’s wound is still open.

Five years… later this country’s mass grave is still unmarked.

Five years later… this is still… just a background for a photo-op.

It is beyond shameful.

—

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial — barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field, Mr. Lincoln said "we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.

Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We can nto dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground." So we won’t.
Instead they bicker and buck-pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they’re doing — instead of doing any job at all.

Five years later, Mr. Bush… we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir — on these 16 empty acres, the terrorists… are clearly, still winning.
And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.

—

And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation.

There is, its symbolism — of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.
The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it… was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.

Those who did not belong to his party — tabled that.

Those who doubted the mechanics of his election — ignored that.

Those who wondered of his qualifications — forgot that.

History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government, by its critics.

It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation’s wounds, but to take political advantage.

Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.

The President — and those around him — did that.

They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused; as appeasers; as those who, in the Vice President’s words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."

They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken… a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated Al-Qaeda as much as we did.

The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had ’something to do’ with 9/11, is "lying by implication."

The impolite phrase, is "impeachable offense."

Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space… and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.

Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.
Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible — for anything — in his own administration.

Yet what is happening this very night?

A mini-series, created, influenced — possibly financed by — the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.

The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.
How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death… after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections… how dare you or those around you… ever "spin" 9/11.
—
Just as the terrorists have succeeded — are still succeeding — as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero…

So too have they succeeded, and are still succeeding — as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.

This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney’s continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.

And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."

In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm.

Suddenly his car — and only his car — starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man’s lights go on.

As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced.
An "alien" is shot — but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help.
The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials areseen, manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there’s no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it’s themselves."

And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight.

"The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own — for the children, and the children yet unborn."
—
When those who dissent are told time and time again — as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus — that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American…

When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"… look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:

Who has left this hole in the ground?

We have not forgotten, Mr. President.

You have.

May this country forgive you.

How Green was My Front Yard

Our brief interlude of Fall weather had ended. At 7:30 this morning, the temperature was 81 degrees, on its way up to the high 80s or low 90s. I look outside at the lawn and the grass appears to have gotten discouraged by the roller-coaster of temperature extremes, rain, and drought. I can almost hear the little blades of St. Augustine saying, "to hell with this, I'm not going to play the game anymore...if they want a green lawn, they can use spray paint."

An Old Friend Called

An old friend of mine, who retired from association management a few years ago, called me tonight. He and his wife have moved to a lakeside community in East Texas; his wife is still working, but won't be for long.

I had called him a few days ago and got his machine; the reason for my call is that another of our mutual friends sent me an email, explaining that our friend was preparing to have a heart valve replacement in the not-too-distant future. So, I called.

We had a long conversation, with him telling me all about his life in retirement. He plays golf three days a week, is active in the Kiwanis Club, and has joined the volunteer fire department in his community. He's done about 90 hours of training out of the 187 hours required to get 'certified' for service, but he has been actively involved in fire fighting, rescue, etc. He said he's done mostly grass fires, but has been involved in vehicle extraction rescues, failed vehicle extraction rescues (couldn't get to a person in a burning car), and dealing with recovering a body from a creek bed. His retirement sounds interesting in ways (I don't do golf), but not quite what I have in mind. I like the volunteer fire fighting element; I have actually thought of such things before. As it turns out, he will be going to the same board dinner I will attend with my wife on Saturday, so we'll get a chance to see him and his wife.

Today was the last day of work for one of my favorite staff members. She took a position paying more, offering far better benefits, and providing a better future than we could offer. I wish her well, but hate to see her go. So, we're looking for a replacement. We need someone, fast.

Enough blogitry tonight. I'm going to look for land online.

Ann Richards--I Miss Her Already

It hurt to learn tonight that Ann Richards died tonight. I am so sad that this wonderful woman is gone. I mourn her loss. This nation is poorer without her.

Travel, etc.

I'm in the early stages of preparing for a series of trips, including one nearby (to Fort Worth) and one to Toledo, OH, one to Houston, TX, and one to New York, NY. I don't mind too much, but wish I could decide how long to stay where, and how much time would be my time, versus client time. Longer term, it looks like I might have to go to Moscow (that's Russia) next Spring. If things go really awry, I might have to go to Beijing next month, but I doubt it.

So, why do this? I do not know. Maybe it's because I think it's necessary. Probably not. I'll let you know what comes to mind.

Collard Greens--A Political Statement?

Tonight, I prepared collard greens for myself. I have an inexplicable appreciation for some very Southern dishes; collard greens are among them. I prepared the ham hocks over the weekend, but by the time they were ready for use, my interest in cleaning and tearing into bits the collard green leaves had left me. So, I put it off.

But I had them tonight. My god, they are tasty! I cooked the one bunch of greens in the 'pot likker' from the ham hocks. Fifteen minutes on of a rolling boil and they were ready. I put the bit of meat from the ham hocks into a bowl, along with the greens, doused them with chile pequin vinegar (just cider vinegar that had been used to preserve fresh chile pequin peppers), and dug in. Spectacular! My father had a soft spot for greens, though I believe he liked turnip greens, which I cannot honestly say I would recognize (by sight or taste) if they bit me. But collard greens...life is worth living with some fresh collards!

There are times I like playing the geezer from the early years of the last century...I wasn't around then, of course, but I can fake it! Eating those old, strange Southern foods that so many people find dull or too bitter or whatever...it's appealing to me.

It would taste even better if I could be eating a huge 'mess of greens' to celebrate the unseating of the Republican majority in Congress (and the end of the Bush administration).

Remembering 9/11

I grieved, in my own way, by posting a tribute to a single 9/11 victim on my blog. And then, tonight, I heard the last few minutes of George Bush's address to the nation. My grief turned to rage as I heard that son-of-a-bitch spin his web of lies into a message intended to frighten us, make us forget his role in the state this world is in, and try to generate support for his mean-spirited and utterly irrational response to the world.

The people who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks were victims of madmen reacting to their perception of the West. The people who are dying in the battles of today's world are victims of those same madmen, made more powerful by the cruel and stupid actions of another madman.

Tribute to Daniel Hal Crisman: Victim of 9/11/2001 Terrorist Attacks

Daniel Hal Crisman was 25 years old when he died on September 11, 2001, as a result of the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City. Just ten days before, he had been made a permanent employee of March & McLennan Companies, after working there as a temp on tentative status. His new role was training coordinator. His girlfriend, Danielle Zazula, was quoted by the New York Times as saying that “He really felt like he had made it. He felt like he had achieved a level of success in his life,” after learning the news of his training coordinator job. Daniel met Ms. Zazula at a poetry workshop, according to the Times, where both of them read some of their work. Daniel had taken up photography not long before he died.

On September 11, 2001, 2996 people died as a direct result of the terrorist attacks. When one considers the personal story of just one of them, the magnitude of the tragedy becomes almost incomprehensible. And, looking at what has happened since that time and all the people who have died in Afghanistan and Iraq and throughout the middle east, the magnitude of the horrors of terrorist attacks, war, revenge, and hatred become even more incredible.

When I agreed to post a tribute to him on the fifth anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 2001, I decided I would do a bit of research to find out more about him. All I had, initially, was his name. I found the information above by doing some simple searches online. I was struck by the fact that a number of people who did not personally know him expressed, in online postings, their sympathies to his family and shared their sorrow at his loss. More information about him and comments left by friends, family, and strangers can be found here.

While I do not support the Bush Administration's ongoing 'war on terror,' I do deeply grieve for the men and women and children who, for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time, suffered at the hands of religious zealots whose warped sense of justice would allow them to behave as evil beasts.

Here's to the memory of Daniel Hal Crisman.

Sushi, baby!

This is the sign above the sushi place in Arlington, TX where we ate on Saturday evening. It was very good sushi, though we have had better. The service was rather slow and inept, but got better as the evening progressed. We didn't eat as much as I would have liked, inasmuch as I would have had to have mortgaged our home and our future. Our menu consisted primarily of sashimi: albacore tuna; sesame seared tuna; and conch. We also had unagi (grilled freshwater eel) and wasabi crusted salmon roll. One interesting aspect of the place was that most of the sushi chefs were twenty-something Americans; most sushi spots we visit have Japanese men doing the work. The relative lack of Japanese sushi chefs notwithstanding (there was one Japanese guy who I took to be the leader), the food was good. Turns out the place was the original location of what is now a two-restaurant "chain" in the DFW area. You can learn more about the place at www.piranhakillersushi.com.

For your information

My second thoughts about urging that Path to 9/11 be pulled have turned into third thoughts. For reasoned arguments attacking the right-wing lie-mongering film, read what The Fat Lady Sings says about the film.

OK, now on to things unrelated to my intense hatred of right-wing pigs who would rewrite history.

Here are links to random "Words of the Day" from dictionary.com:

simulacrum
peremptory
moil
panegyric
factotum

Path to 9/11---Ashamed of Bookburning

I received email messages today that encouraged me to sign petitions urging the president of ABC to pull the docu-drama, "Path to 9/11." I read the messages, allowed my outrage to well up inside me, and did as requested. I urged others to do the same.

Now, I'm having second thoughts. While I think the docu-drama is loaded with bullshit and fabrications and is obviously intended to turn swing voters into Republican voters, I am not so sure urging censorship is the right thing to do. The more comments I hear from both the left and the right, the more I think both sides are running on empty hatred and are abandoning the core principles of fairness and justice and, importantly, freedom of expression. I truly, totally HATE some of the lies that lay at the core of the film, as I understand it. But there have been similar attack films that aim their venom at conservative Republicans and I have probably laughed at them and found them to be less than offensive.

My failure to find offense in films that attack Republicans and conservatives is...a failure. If I were truly as progressive as I'd like to believe I am, I would find both forms of free expression obnoxious and annoying...but I would not call for their censorship.

So, here's where I stand at the moment. I condemn the manipulative use of 9/11 and the fears it calls up and I will argue against it and try to convince people that it is what I believe it to be. But I will not support censoring it. Let the assholes screen the film and then let the righteous wrath of the public spew down on the makers and get lots of press. In future, if I encounter a similar attack, based on lies and manipulation, by 'progressives' against conservatives, I will be just as vocal about it. I will condemn it and suggest to the makers that they should be ashamed of themselves and will urge anyone who will listen to defend the makers' right to show it.

It won't bother me much if Path to 9/11 doesn't air, but I am ashamed of getting involved in, and encouraging, the moral equivalent of bookburning.

Today

Here it is, September 7, 2006, and I have not confirmed my plans for the remainder of the century. I should have organized all the New Year's Eve parties from now until December 31, 2100, but I have been beastly lazy. So, I have no parties planned, not even the party to celebrate my 53rd birthday. No one else, I should add, has made plans for that party, either.

I will celebrate on my birthday this year, though. I will celebrate the beginning of a crazy time of my life, during which I will have lots of fun, convince lots of people to join me in the quest for fun, and laugh and smile a lot.

My question, of course, is how to do that. I don't know. I just will. I may have to rob banks, steal diamonds, and use credit cards that belong to dead people. But I will have fun. And those around me will experience the same enjoyment.

Happy gluteous maximus.

Steve Irwin

Steve Irwin's death this week, at the tragic end of a stingray's barb, was awful. I did not know much of him, but he obviously meant a great deal to many, many people. He was an admirable guy, from all I've been able to gather. I often thought his TV shows were silly and irrelevant. But I guess I was wrong about his depth; he appears now to have been a man who was not at all shallow. He appears now to have been a strong, important advocate of nature. I wish I'd paid more attention. I wish his family peace and his fans happy memories.

Get a Job

For the first time in at least 8 years, I'm thinking about the possibility of trying to get a job with someone else. A job that pays reasonably well, has good benefits, a good 401K program, and fewer worries. I don't know that such a job will be available to me. I'm not sure I want it. We'll see.

Blather

This morning, as my wife and I walked from our cars (we had reason to take both today) in the parking lot to the office door, we noticed the temperature was very cool, a truly welcome respite from our blistering summer weather. It was cool enough this morning that a sweater would have been comfortable...but the afternoon sun has long since swept away the coolness of this morning.

I left the office early today, about 3:30, to stop by the pharmacy to picku up a couple of my many prescriptions, then went to the post office to claim our mail (and restart delivery) that had been held since last Thursday. The mail was, by and large, junk mail with no appeal whatsoever. But picking it up was a treat; I was out of the office before closing time. I need to do that a bit more often, but then I need to devote more time to getting the job done, satisfying clients, and getting more to make up for the dwindling revenues.

For now, though, I think I need to get away from the office more frequently just to clear my head and prevent me from complete psychological burnout. It's strange to feel that burnout almost immediately upon returning from a 5-day hiaitus from work.

I'm blathering on. I will stop.

In a corner

I feel a little like I've been hit, hard, by a powerful boxer whose only goal is to kill me.

Today, first thing, a staff member who I thought was solidly in our court...someone who cared about our business and about us...quit. She gave two weeks notice. She was offered more money, better benefits, all the things that we cannot offer. She is someone I really like, a person who seemed to understand that we're a small business with lots of constraints upon us. But, in the end, that doesn't matter. I don't blame her. She needs to look out after herself. We simply cannot compete.

I'm ready to throw in the towell, but I'm afraid it's too late. We don't have the staying power to throw in the towel now. I'm down at this moment. Very, very down. Our financial reports tell the story; we've been depending on an association that is dying. Our revenues are drying up, fast. This is ugly.

We even talked about just walking away from our business. We can't do that; we don't have any equity. We have no money to fall back on. I've not felt this far down in many, many years. There just doesn't seem to be any options that have happy endings. I don't know what to do. I have never felt quite this way before. I don't like it. I don't like being in a corner, with no where to go.

Labor Day

We awoke on September 2, a Saturday, and decided we'd had enough of St. Louis, so we headed south toward Little Rock. We weren't quite sure where we were going...Little Rock to see the Clinton Presidential Library or Hot Springs to see the...hot springs? It didn't matter much, we were just ready to hit the road. So we did.

It's quite a drive from St. Louis to Little Rock. While we were in no particular rush to get there, we didn't dawdle. It took us the better part of the day to make the trip. We went through Little Rock because, by the time we reached Little Rock, it was too late to visit the libary on Saturday and the Sunday hours are 1-5 pm. So, if we wanted to see the library, we'd have to find things to do in Little Rock for half the day on Sunday. We opted not to wait. So, we went through on the way to Hot Springs.

The traffic in Hot Springs on Saturday afternoon was horrendous. We did not know what to expect, but a traffic-snarl in the midst of a hundred-twenty-thousand-acre strip center wasn't it. We wandered the streets for awhile in awe at the massive amounts of low-end retail and heavy traffic. It was not something I'd drive cross-country to visit. (As it turned out, we were in the wrong place...more later.)

We attempted to drive into the downtown area, but the traffic was almost at a standstill, so we veered off and decided to have an early dinner. We had seen a sign for Coy's Steak House and my wife had read something about it being a first class place, so we went looking for it. We got there early, probably about 5:30. Parking is all valet (interesting, though...in a land of geezer retirement, the valets were geezers). We went inside and were quickly seated (despite not having reservations, which they say are advisable) in a little booth set in an alcove. I ordered ribeye, medium rare, and my wife ordered steak Oscar, medium. My steak was medium-well and had a distinct flavor of liver; my wife tasted it and agreed my taste buds were not playing tricks. Her steak was rare. All in all, it was a miserable disappointment. I would have sent mine back, but didn't want to deal with the delay.

After dinner, we headed south to find a place to stay in, or near, Arkadelphia. We had phoned several places in Hot Springs but everything was full. My wife pulled out the AAA book and made a couple of calls and we got reservations at a Best Western. It wasn't a bad place, but didn't compare to the Holiday Inn Express where we stayed in Fenton, MO the previous two nights. We decided we'd head back into Hot Springs early the next day to avoid the godawful traffic tie-ups.

The next morning, we did just that. We got up at a reasonable hour, loaded up the car, and made the 30 mile drive north back into Hot Springs. The parts of Hot Springs we had seen the day before were not, as you might imagine, what draws people to the town. The draw is the old downtown area, with its hot baths, nice architecture, and interesting shops. Here are a few photos I shot while wandering around.

After a brief wander through town, we decided to take a duck boat tour. Duck boats are military craft that traverse land on four wheels and take to water, as well. I didn't get any photos of the beasts. The duck boat tour was rather lame. We went from downtown Hot Springs about five miles south to a parking lot of a restaurant on Lake Hamilton. The parking lot had a boat launch where the duck boat gently crept into the water. We did a slow-speed tour around some fancy homes and boat docks, then back on dry land and downtown again. It was about an hour listening to the geezer driver telling duck jokes.

We then wandered a bit more and decided to head south toward Arkadelphia again, but we opted to have an early lunch, so we stopped at a little place on Lake Hamilton called Doe's, where we had a nice lunch of specially jazzed-up tamales I(apparently a big deal around Hot Springs) while sitting outside on the water, watching as pontoon boats pulled in, tied up to the dock, and their passengers came ashore for lunch.

Somewhere along the way my wife bought a marzipan pig, pictured here, which she said was not very tasty. On the road, I stopped to take a picture of a 1961 Rambler that was for sale.

We got back on Interstate 30 and headed west, not knowing whether we would drive all the way back to Dallas or not. We did. And so here we are on Labor Day. We'll pretend we're still on vacation today. Despite a dreary, wet day, we'll act like we're having a grand old time in our 5-days of retirement.

Arkadelphia

Tonight, after a long day of driving, my wife and I are staying the night in Arkadelphia, AR. That's as much as I can bring myself to type at the moment...we're tired! More tomorrow or the next day about our trip, our visit to Hot Springs, our disappointing lunch and dinner, and other fun and exciting experiences. But not tonight.

September 1

This morning, we awoke late, as we had no particular reason to rise early. That, and we had decided last night to wait until the traffic cleared before going into St. Louis. So, we waited until about 9:15 before we set out for The Loop, an area of St. Louis my wife had identified as 'worthy' of our attention. We followed a similar path to the one we followed the night before, but this time around we went further in. Here are a few photos from the area:


We wandered around for quite some time. We visited the library, walked by the police station, took a look around a little outdoor marketand just bummed around. It was fun.

We saw an Ethiopian restaurant called Red Sea and had hoped to have lunch there, but it apparently is not open for lunch. Bad news; it had kitfo on the menu that was posted on the window...I wanted it. But, we made a good adjustment, and decided to have lunch at Saleem's. We had a sampling of appetizers: hummus, garlic potato dip, baba ghannouj, and fried eggplant smothered in a garlic & tomato salsa. The fried eggplant and baba ghannouj were my favorites; my wife liked them, too, but she was enamored with the garlic potato dip.

We had checked earlier on a tiny little place next to the outdoor food market; its menu was particularly interesting, Mama's Coal Pot. We went back because we wanted to know what the menu item called "snoot" was. The guy told me it is pig face, with the skin peeled off to make cracklins. I still haven't seen it or tasted it, but I want to.

After lunch and a bit more walking, we headed to the famous Arch, where we went up to the top. I could not figure out how to turn off my flash, so the photos I took at the top were not of decent quality because the double-paned glass made my flash reflect back...bad photos. I did, though, get a few photos outside, including this one that shows the scale of the arch; that's my wife standing next to it.

After our Arch trip, we went to The Hill, the famous Italian neighborhood not far from downtown. First stop was at Volpi Italian Foods, where we bought some very brilliant green olives (vacuum packed) from Italy, along with a similar pack of red olives. We also bought some sorpressa hot salame, and some anchove-stuffed olives. We then wandered to Shaw's Coffee, where I had an iced coffee and my wife had an Italian soda. The place is situated in an old bank building; we sat in a tiny safe, which was furnished with two soft chairs, a glass-topped table, and an interesting chandelier, along with hand-painted murals on 2 walls and an entire wall of safe-deposit boxes(the 4th wall was all mirrors). From there, we wandered through the streets, which were filled with incredibly narrow houses with miniature front yards; all of them had porches, only a few feet from the sidewalks. I imagine people used to, and still may, use the porches and evening walks to visit with neighbors.

For a variety of reasons, we left there about 5:30 pm and headed back to the hotel for awhile. Later, we opted for a simple, casual dinner. We found the Fenton Bar & Grill, which had an outdoor deck in front, and had our dinner there...a hamburger for me and a dozen buffalo 'trash' wings for my wife. 'Trash' wings are ostensibly especially hot, the waitress told us, because they are pulled from the grease when only partially done, dipped in hot sauce again, and then fried. They tasted OK, but they had absolutely no hint of heat. The place was obviously a neighborhood hang-out; it appeared to us that many of the people there tonight were shift workers (and their friends and family) who work at the nearby Chrysler plant.

Enough of this...more some other time.

August 31, part 2

The terrain on the drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma through Missouri into the St. Louis changes, but the changes are subtle. It's generally gently rolling hills and moderately wooded landscapes for most of the way, but as St. Louis gets closer, the hills become more pronounced and the cut-throughs into hills start becoming larger. More layers of cream-colored and tan and light brown rock become visible in the cut-throughs.

Our trip from Tulsa to the St. Louis outskirts was uneventful. We listened to CDs and passively watched the scenery roll by. I was particularly involved in a 2-CD set of John Prine's music, while my wife was more interested in a Crystal Gayle CD of Hoagie Carmichael music. After awhile, we turned off the music and just experienced the road. I like that.

The closer we got to St. Louis, the stranger the livestock. One area, in particular, seemed to be a gathering point for farmers/ranchers who were into exotics. First, we came across a ranch that advertised itself as a large supplier of exotics. Then, we came across a place that had lots and lots of llamas wandering about, in the same pastures as kiwis...lots of them. For a fairly long stretch of road, we saw signs that the farmers and ranchers were experimenting with odd beasts from around the world.

Clayton is a suburb of St. Louis that finds space in the guidebooks, maps, etc. as a spot to find good food in a distinct St. Louis neighborhood. We drove from our Holiday Inn Express in Fenton, MO to Clayton. We aimed for BARcelona, a tapas bar that had received some positive press, although one reviewer called it "snooty." We found it quite the contrary.

BARcelona caters to twenty-somethings (or, I should say, they were in abundance when we were there) who have just gotten off work in offices that require them to dress the part of aspiring young executives. The women were decked out in clothes that almost certainly cost more than a sensible person would spend and the men (few though they were...the place was almost entirely packed with women) were in their finest suits.

We were seated in the larger of two rooms. The entire front of the restaurant was open to the alfresco dining on the street, though, so "room" doesn't quite do it justice. It was far too loud, but we were able to tolerate it.

The menu was full of interesting and inviting tapas and we decided to have a nice little sampling of them for dinner. My wife insisted on the gazpacho (she has decided that almost no restaurant in Dallas actually serves gazpacho as part of their regular fare), and we picked some other items that were particularly interesting, names, alcachofas (battered and fried artichokes), queso de cabra al horno (an exceptionally good baked goat cheese, sitting in the middle of a wonderful tomato salsa), tuna tartare with apples and caperberries, and hot bread. The alcachofas and queso de cabra el horno were excellent, particularly the latter. The tuna tartare was good, but a bit bland, though the caperberries were wonderful. The place keeps very good olive oil on the table, which is good with salt and pepper for dipping the hard bread. Over all, I'd give the place a rating of 7 on a 10 point scale...but the queso de cabra el horno was 10+ in my book. I would go back for that and that alone.

After dinner, we headed straight back to the hotel, where we dawdled about, watched a little news, got online to read email, and then made an early night of it...I was asleep by 10:30.