The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful*

*With apologies to Jimmy Buffett

It might get cold down here on the Texas Gulf Coast. That is, next week might be kind of chilly.

But I fully expect it. It’s January and we haven’t had a really hard blast of cold weather. It is rather rule of thumb but usually when we get hit with really cold air, to us at least, it comes sometimes around 1) Thanksgiving 2) The week before Christmas or 3) The first couple of weeks of January. Every exception has a rule of course. Nonetheless, the 1997 ice storm that had power out for a week on the Southeastern edge of Texas was within the first two weeks of the new year. To this day many people curse the name “Entergy,” the power company that had bought out the local Gulf States Utilities and let quite a few employees go. Entergy got it’s groove back somewhat during the hurricanes of the last five years, but they also had a lot of help by linesmen from as far away as Minnesota.

The truth is — and I have said it once and will say it again — it doesn’t get really cold all that often here. I rather like that. It is probably one if not the main reason I have lived the majority of my life in Texas. That is not to say there is something kind of magic about the cold in small amounts.

What it is about a freezing night out among the Texas Pineywoods when you look up and can see every star you would just about ever want to see?  I might even go so far to say that it is reminiscent of love in the air, and if not love it sure was something close enough.

I remember the first time I drove in the snow. It was 1973 and I drove my parents’ Dodge pickup out and about the streets of my hometown. I mean, no one or thing was moving except that old “Green Goose” steered fabulously by yours truly. No one had really ever taught me the finer points of driving in the snow. It was just one of those things you had to learn on your on, like swerving into a mimosa tree. I did that a year or two before the snow and remembered what I did wrong. You live, you crash, you learn, providing you live through it.

Several years when I fought fires it got pretty cold. The term “freezing my ass off” comes to mind thinking about riding on the tailboard, or back step, of our fire engine as we headed toward a fire 20 miles out into the county. Another time I remembered the spray from a fire hose leaving icecycles on my mustache, reminding me of photos I had seen of our brethern who lived in the great frozen North and fought fires all the time in such conditions.

Snow itself is pretty great in small amounts. You have to always keep in mind this is being said by one who doesn’t see snow but once every four or five years. It is interesting as well to watch a lot of what nature does and the places where it is done: a blizzard in Colorado, an Easter snow covering the White House lawn in D.C., a good ground cover back here in Southeast Texas.

In two weeks I go to Kansas City, Mo., on business. I’ve looked at extended weather forecasts and have seen one scenario in which I might leave Southeast Texas in upper 70s heat and arrive with snow on the ground and a high in the 20s. That doesn’t sound very appetizing.

Still, no matter what it ends up with I guess I am kind of a weather freak. It is something people talk about but can’t really change. And as much as people talk, and how they really, really talk a bunch of s**t, I think it is rather marvelous that such a natural order is in place.

Any comments? I think not.

The Christmas-New Year’s holiday season is great especially when it falls on 3-day weekends. However, it seems you still always must accomplish a week’s worth of work in each four-day week. That being said, if for some reason you read my blog daily you will notice I didn’t publish yesterday. That was because I worked a rare evening until 8 p.m.

Until I “semi-retired” five years ago it was not at all unusual for me to work nights. At the beginning of my last full-time job I worked 1-10 p.m. five days a week as a police beat reporter. Believe me, the hours, how will I say this, sucked.  Not so much the beat but the hours were disagreeable.

I am getting off the subject of what I intended to write about today but not completely, for I was talking about blogging and my career as a journalist.

No second thoughts have crossed my mind in five years of blogging as to my decision to let EFD stand as a blog that was not “interactive.” The word interactive has many meanings even in the world of the Internet and technology. In the sense to which I refer it simply means that I don’t don’t allow comments directly to the blog.  I do leave an e-mail address where people can leave a comment or whatever. Some people do take time to leave a comment but interestingly enough not many people at all leave negative comments when sending an e-mail from my blog’s link. Why waste the extra several seconds?

Thus leaves the “madness to my method.” Say what?

It was only shortly before I left my last newspaper that the publication began allowing “live” comments to stories. It was bad enough when I had my e-mail address published under my byline when I wrote “Cops,” or the police blotter. I had some good comments and interesting ideas and news tips in those early days of news story commentary. But also was there a heapin’ helpin’ of “blowhard-o-phonia.” I can only imagine how reporters feel now who work for papers which have let the comments for stories run amok.

I see the idiocy and the racism and thoughtlessness and just pure stupidity in those story comments today. A piece I saw this afternoon, sent through the e-mail that is compiled by journalist Jim Romensko on media industry news, brought all this to mind.

The article concerns a protest by a number of journalism organizations over a Texas A & M University System policy prohibiting professors from instructing students to file open records requests with any of the system’s components. The policy states doing so will open the faculty members to disciplinary actions which include firing. Journalism groups believe the policy was an (over)reaction to A & M journalism professor Dan Malone’s having students submit open records requests to Tarleton State University in Stephenville, Texas. The result was the students writing stories about the institution inadequately reporting campus crime statistics to the federal government.

It is an interesting story and I suggest you read it if you happen to have an interest in government hiding things from you, yes You, I am talking to You, the taxpaying public.

But I also suggest one take a look at the comments following the story by longtime Austin American-Statesman ace reporter Ralph Haurwitz. The majority of the commentary is exactly why I don’t allow comments to my blog. The statements are generally spur-of-the-moment blather of the worst kind.

For instance, one commenter disparages a comment from University of Texas Austin journalism professor Wanda Garner Cash, who describes the A & M policy as something one might find on the satire Web site the Onion. The know-it-all commentator dismisses Cash as just another “academic.” But Cash, known by her moniker “Fluffy,”  was well-known and respected in Texas community journalism for 25 years or so as a editor, publisher and owner before heading off to the “Ivory Towers.” She also happens to be one of the state’s leading experts on freedom of information matters.

I would suspect that those of us who have strong opinions bottled up inside might every once in awhile see a story and be immediately driven to commentary. Hey, the comment section is right there. It’s like seeing fresh fruit in a store and trying one out because it’s there. I sometimes don’t practice what I preach, I will be the first to admit.

Still, I feel that eventually something has got to give with news story comments online. They increasingly show the worst of our society and seldom constructively contribute anything to the understanding of a topic. Some publications have taken to moderating the comments, others have taken them away completely. Perhaps some middle ground might be found. Maybe the publication might insist that those who comment lose their anonymity, or else impose a “waiting” or “cooling-off” period.

Whatever happens will happen. So, in the meantime, don’t forget you still can send me an e-mail, you jerk-faced $#%^&+* moron!

One less Democrat in the Texas House from Jefferson County. Ugh!

Maybe no Democrats are ready to shoot Ritter but some are mighty disappointed. Yes, we understand Rep. Ritter. You switched party for cheap political gain. Are you planning on running for Tommy Williams state senate seat? Is it crisis of conscience? I’m a little too jaded to believe that.

But I am disappointed in the Democratic Party here in Jefferson County anyway. I have been for some time, especially since the Dems here can’t come up with someone to run against Ted Poe for Congress. Well hell, maybe Ritter will run against Poe, in the Republican Primary. Not that the about-to-be Nederland Republican has a snowball’s chance of beating Ted Poe in the GOP primary.

I’m disgusted.

IH-10 Traffic Report: Beaumont-Houston-Beaumont

Today I spent a hour-and-a-half driving to the Houston VA hospital for a shot. Yes, a shot, in my knee that they couldn’t give me for whatever reason at the Beaumont VA Clinic. Fortunately, I went to their “Injection Clinic” which is held on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and although I waited about 45 minutes, it was more because I was early and I was ultimately done with my 1:15 p.m. appointment around 1:25 p.m. Then, back in the >160K-mile-plus Tacoma for another hour-and-a-half drive back to Beaumont. That was four-and-a-half hours that caused me to completely rearrange my week. The final shot next week will also cause me to rearrange that week, plus this week as a VA appointment in Beaumont scheduled for next Tuesday when I get that final shot had to be rescheduled for Friday. Between my part-time job with Uncle Sugar and my seemingly-never-ending medical appointments with the Department of Veterans Affairs I seem to answer my own question as to why I can’t get any of my work accomplished in my profession as a freelance writer.  Horse pucky, as my old Navy senior chief Ron Smith used to say.

Driving to and from Beaumont-to-Houston and Houston-to-Beaumont on Interstate 10 has never been a joy. As a matter of fact, for a kid from the East Texas piney woods the journey left me for a long time with the twisted thought that the Texas Coastal Prairie was nothing but flat, butt-ugly, seemingly never-ending series of rice fields bordered by oil company service shops or crop-dusting hangars. I had to live in the area for awhile to recognize the beauty of the grasslands bordering the western Gulf of Mexico. Indeed there is some beauty in the grasses and the marshlands.

That trip of some 80 miles one way still is not the most exciting. The small towns that seem like no more than exit ramps from the Interstate — Winnie and Anahuac mostly — seem to thrive as stops for travelers either on I-10 or en route to the beach.  The bridge over the Trinity River seems like a pretty good climb until you realize everything around you is flat. Nonetheless, the crossing does offer a pretty good vista of the big river where it becomes Trinity Bay. In recent months, the continual construction on I-10 to widen it to three lanes from Houston to Beaumont, seems pretty much done for now save for the Trinity Bridge itself.

The steep, 50-year-old bridge was torn down and drivers are now traveling over a new span until another span 10 feet away can be finished. The two spans will then carry the nearly 50,000 vehicles a day over separate, three-lane, east and west bridges, according to the Texas Department of Transportation. You drive by the workers toiling away on top of the newest span and look down then you realize that is the last thing that those workers should want to do.

A bit more to the West and you get into the Lynchburg and Baytown areas. It seems the marine industry has certainly grown around Lynchburg or whatever they call the area near I-10 with all the barges and tug boats these days. I don’t remember seeing that much activity in years past. What I remember most about the area is you can look to the south most days and get a full view of the 575-foot San Jacinto Monument, which Guinness lists as the tallest monument column in the world. I have never been up in the monument to the observation deck. The monument itself, being Texan, is 15 feet taller than the Washington Monument. I have visited the area and toured the USS Texas, the nearly century-old battleship.

On a clear day ... you can see the San Jacinto Monument from I-10

Preliminary work is underway to “dry-berth” the battle wagon which has long been nestled in the slough where in 1836 Sam Houston and his Texan Army of about 900 men defeated the more than 1,300 Mexican forces of Santa Ana. The victory established the Republic of Texas, which less than 10 years later was admitted as one of the United States of America.

Back to this century though, Baytown just a ways from the bay, surely has grown over the years. I remember it in my younger days as mostly the “Humble” later Exxon and even later ExxonMobil refinery. There was also the first highway tunnel I ever experienced there. It was later scrapped for the magnificent cable-stayed Fred Hartman Bridge over the Houston Ship Channel on Highway 146 between Baytown and LaPorte. Today, Baytown has almost 70,000 people and a good bit of development out to the Interstate.

Just outside Houston to the east, the Anheuser-Busch brewery still stands tall above the prairie even though it seems to have lost some of its luster. I suppose what I most miss is the rotating neon sign perched on top of the brewery. The sign had a logo that morphed into a colorful flying eagle. It was there that I saw, I believe for the only time, the Budweiser Clydesdales. My Dad, Mom and I stopped by there on the way back home. It think it was after my Uncle Ted’s funeral — my Dad’s brother — if I am not mistaken. We got a chance to look at the magnificent horses and my Dad got to drink a complimentary Bud, which I am sure he appreciated.

Of course, the skyline of Houston has grown over the years. Also developed over the years is a second city center in the Southwest Houston near the Galleria Mall, the old Astrodome and now newer Reliant Stadium. Of course, the latter is all close to Hermann Park and the Houston Zoo as well as the world-class Texas Medical Center. The latter place is where I seem to be spending so much time these days as the Michael E. DeBakey Veterans Affairs Hospital — where I have to travel for “specialists” (don’t get me started) — is at one edge of the gigantic medical complex which has some of the world’s best hospitals.

As for the traffic, which is in the headline, I had nary a tie-up or bumper-to-bumper this trip. It’s kind of unusual for a visit to the nation’s fourth-largest city, no matter what time of day. Nor was there any similar problem on I-10 to-from-and-through Jefferson, Chambers and Harris counties. Oh, but “Smokey” was out earning a paycheck today, especially in Chambers County westbound I-10.  Within a three mile stretch I encountered two Texas Highway Patrol traffic stops, both appeared to be so-called “drug interdiction” pullovers since troopers were looking through people’s belongings in the trunk of the stopped cars. A third stop within that three miles found a big rig was stopped by a “license and weight” trooper.

Well, that is what I got out of my drive to Houston and back. That and a shot in the left knee. It hurt for a nanosecond and then it was over although my knee hurts this evening, I think it’s from the arthritis. Most of the shots I have had so far in the knee don’t hurt. Neither do the trips to Houston. They just leave me stiff and in need of more gasoline, which seems to be getting more expensive every day.

Cowboys need to sink or swim since Wade is no longer an option

It  has been quite some time since I could claim myself as a Dallas Cowboys fan. Many, many years it has been. I think it was when the Cowboys became the so-called “America’s Team” that I swore off of them. How dare them! America’s team, my ass. Whose team was the Charger’s, Tijuana?

Nonetheless, I hate it and feel somewhat sorry that Cowboy’s super-ego and owner Jerry Jones fired Wade Phillips as coach. Part of my feelings can be chalked up to hometown pride. Although I grew up an hour or so where Phillips went to high school, Wade and his dad, the Oilers and Saints head coach “Bum” Phillips are a part of Southeast Texas lore  as much as the Spindletop gusher, Johnny Winter and Seaport coffee.

Beyond sentiment it has been somewhat lost that Wade Phillips coached the team. He didn’t play. Dare I say the last time Wade seriously donned pads was when he played linebacker in 1964 for the Port Neches-Groves Indians and later for the University of Houston Cougars.

I forgot who the sports radio wise man it was who said so but whomever it was hit it on the head when he said just prior to Wade’s dismissal that the Cowboys players needed to step up and be men, and admit they have played stink ball. Some say the Cowboys have “dialed in” their games. Others say words about the Dallas playing that even I steered clear of when I as a sailor. Phillips has coached a group of multi-millionaire football aristocrats. Many sports pundits had Dallas picked as the first NFL team to play a Super Bowl game in their own house. That house, of course, is the house (palace) that Jerry built. Jerry didn’t let anyone stand in his way building that palace either.

Here I go on and on about a team I mostly enjoy watch getting ripped a new one. Of course, my team over in nearby Houston has their own problems. But when you mess with homeboys you at least get a verb, an adverb and at least an adjective or two thrown your way

Now if I can only come up with such suitable parts of speech to use.