What's for dinner?

Yesterday I had a request from longtime reader CrystalCF for a couple of my recipes. Yes, I'm talking about cooking recipes! It is possible, you know, for a man to be able to feed himself on something other than frozen pizza and doughnuts -- though there is NOTHING wrong with a good frozen pizza and doughnut feast.

Anyway, Crystal wanted my pumpkin roll recipe (a perennial hit) as well as my version of almond-fried rice [full disclosure: both originated with Caffeine Mom]. Sorry, Crystal, but I haven't gotten around to tracking down the recipes yet. In the meantime, though, I will share a recent culinary discovery [again due to Caffeine Mom] -- World's Easiest Caramel Pie. Okay I made up the name, but it's yummy and oh so easy. When Mom first shared this with the family, we all called her a liar because it just seems so damned strange. I can attest, from personal experience, that it really does work. So here goes:

Ingredients: 2 cans of sweetened condensed milk, a graham cracker pie crust, cool whip, something to sprinkle on top (e.g., a crushed Butterfinger, a Heath bar, chocolate drizzle, ...).

How you make it (this is where the disbelief comes in): Put the two (unopened) cans of milk (I took the wrappers off) in a crock pot and completely cover them with water. Turn the crock pot on high and leave it alone for approx. 5 hours. CAREFULLY remove the cans from the crock pot and leave them alone until "cool to the touch" [I put them in the fridge for an hour-and-a-half to 2 hours, but I was in a hurry]. Only when the cans are cool*, open them and pour/scrape the caramel "glop" into the pie crust. Spread out the glop, top with cool whip, sprinkle with additional garnish and chill in the fridge until ready to eat.

That's it. Really. It works.

Now I'm sure Eagle Brand does not endorse this recipe as I suppose the cans could explode, but I've not heard of that happening to anyone** AND it was a big hit at the Memorial Day gathering I went to. I think it's going to become my new standard "thing to take" when I have to go to such things. The pumpkin roll is impressive, but it takes a good bit of work. Oh, please note that you do have to plan ahead a little to make this pie. You need at least 5 hours to boil the milk, a couple (at least) for cooling, and then chilling time for the finished project. Caffeine Mom usually makes it the night before. I did not plan that well.

Oh, other people seem to know this basic recipe, but I have to give props to Caffeine Mom for coming up with the crock pot innovation. See, the original recipe calls for boiling the cans in a big pot for 3 hours. Mom didn't like that approach, though, because she had to keep checking the pot and adding water and such. With the crock pot you have none of that.

So if you need a dessert, give this a shot. It doesn't get much easier (outside of stopping at the store and buying one) and it did seem to go over well with my crowd. Of course I do realize I get extra points in those situations simply because I'm the pitiful single guy. Folks expect me to volunteer to bring ice and drinks, so they're always impressed when I bring anything actually produced in my kitchen.

* DO NOT attempt to open them while hot. Even if you're convinced that opening the cans will allow the heat to dissipate faster and speed up the process, DO NOT do it.
** Note this is not a guarantee of total and complete safety. Do not blame me if your can of milk should explode. Nor is it my fault if your crock pot shorts out and burns down your house, your dog gets sick, or a tree falls on your roof.

Trepidacious Tuesday

I'm a little fearful today. Why? Because I'm dealing with folks in the automotive repair industry! See, I had to take the Jeep to the shop today. She's developed some kind of small/medium leak at the rear differential. I did a little online research (including finding out just what the rear differential is and where it's located -- it's at the rear) and this doesn't seem like a major repair.

In fact, several sites urge a self-repair. All you have to do, "they" say, is drain the fluid, remove all the bolts, pry apart the two halves of the differential housing, and then apply a powerful silicon gunk and put it all back together. Yes, "they" say it can be done, but I often feel "they" are evil, malicious entities who take great joy out of wrecking the mental/physical health of "normal" folks -- sort of like Zeus and his cronies sitting up on Mt. Olympus zapping folks with lightening bolts, destroying cities with krakens, and turning misbehaving mortals into sundry creatures of the forest. Okay maybe it's not that bad, but I don't trust "them".

No, instead I'm going to pay some guy to fix my problem. Being Caffeine Dad's son, I always hate to do that. What bothers me most, though, is not paying for the repair, it's that I have no way of telling just how good a repair the guy does. I leave the vehicle with them, they call me hours later, I pay them with wheelbarrows of money and hope the problem has stopped. Sure they give me a list showing a bunch of stuff they've done, but how do I know what they did? Maybe they just tightened some bolts and wiped off the accumulated grease.

My biggest fear at the shop, though, is the Johnson rod. [I think that was the name -- it was a Seinfeld thing, with George and Jerry discussing mechanics.] It's the totally unnecessary, perhaps even imaginary, part that the automotive professional claims you MUST have RIGHT NOW, else your vehicle will disintegrate as if stricken by a SciFi death ray on the drive home! Though you're often skeptical, how can you doubt them? Further, that craftily planted image of your vehicle being ruined beyond repair as a result of ignoring the mechanic's sage advice is a powerful motivator. Better safe than sorry -- the mechanics' guild must LOVE that slogan. Argh, I hate dealing with auto repairs!

Still and all, I've mostly been satisfied with my mechanic experiences. Sure I've been burned once of twice and more commonly talked into doing extra things I really don't think were necessary, but I don't think I've ever bought a Johnson rod. Let's hope today isn't my first one.

UPDATE: Lucinda is now home from the shop and it cost me less than $100.
Part of me was relieved, but part of me was pissed. If the mechanic fixes your
problem for less than $100, your problem probably was one you could have fixed
yourself. So if I could rewind time would I attempt the self-repair? Not on your
life! I'm teaching summer school, so I might as well blow the money on
something.

More movie stuff

Perhaps inspired by my post on top-grossing films, I decided to go to the movies yesterday. Actually I was inspired by the heat. That's something I used to do a lot in grad school. The first apartment I lived in in Tuscaloosa could have doubled as Satan's sauna. Seriously, it was one hot apartment. I don't know what it was about my apartment, but I never even had to turn on the heat during the winter. The apartment below mine had the same problem, so its tenant (Karen) often joined me on my movie jaunts. Though we enjoyed seeing the films, we were basically renting air conditioning for a few hours. Anyway, yesterday turned out to be a scorcher and though I now have a decent air conditioning system, the heat made me nostalgic for the theater.

I went to see the new X-Men movie. Since I was a fan of the comic books, I was initially skeptical of the film series. In my opinion, though, they've done a pretty good job with the series and this one was no exception. There were some scenes that were a little over the top, but all-in-all I give it a thumbs up. Of course my opinion shouldn't carry much weight as this was the first movie I'd been to in almost a year -- last summer was relatively cool for N AL.

While I enjoyed the movie, I think I liked the previews more. That happens to me every time I go to the theater. The trailers look so good, I vow that I will go see them all. Of course I forget my vow once I leave the theater and I'm invariably disappointed when I do follow through. This time, though, I saw a teaser that I may follow up on -- Ghost Rider! Ghost Rider was one of my very favorite comics. It was so dark and the film seems to have captured that. I'm sure I'll be disappointed, but I think I'll take the chance. Oh, I also saw they've made yet another version of The Omen. Why? Of course my bias against the Omen films may be influenced by the fact that Caffeine Mom supposedly wanted to name me Damien. Boy that would have been peachy, huh?

Friday fun

I don't know if it's just a simple case of summer blah, but I just haven't found much to write about of late. In the meantime, here's something fun: top grossing films ever adjusted for inflation. See, it's the last part that makes this list interesting to me. I hate lists like this that do not adjust for inflation because it makes comparisons (for many films) almost meaningless. Anyway ...

I wasn't surprised to see Gone With the Wind and Star Wars in the top 2 spots and I guess it does make sense that a lot of the old Disney films would be pretty high up there. I was, though, pretty surprised to see The Exorcist at #13 -- right above Empire and Jedi. So anyway, check it out and see how some of your all-time favorites stack up. As for me, it's Friday and I'm going home.

Guy lit

What I like best is a book that's at least funny once in a while. ... What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.

That's Holden Caulfield opening Michael Kimmel's insightful take on guy lit over at The Chronicle of Higher Education. First, what is guy lit? It's Kimmel's term for the male equivalent of that 10-year-ago fad, chick lit. During the genre's halcyon days, I read a lot of chick lit -- enough so that some (e.g., Stella) questioned my orientation: the Bridget Jones books, Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing, Thirtynothing, even a couple of Sophie Kinsella and Jane Green books.

Seriously, I've got street cred here. I eventually stopped reading chick lit, though, because it got to be really, really bad. The books became impossible to tell apart. The heroine lived in New York (or London), she worked in publishing or fashion or journalism, she'd been recently done wrong by a real heel or she'd never found a man at all, and yet by the end she was in the perfect relationship with matching silver and china. I still think Girls' Guide holds up well (and the 1st Bridget book to a lesser extent), but the books had no staying power.

Now it appears guy lit is going through the same cycle. It's eerie to me just how similar the two genres are. Here's Kimmel's summary of the basic plot:

I may be 30, but I act 15. I am adrift in New York. I'm too clever by half for my own good. I live on puns and snide, sarcastic asides. I don't look too deeply into myself or anyone else — everyone else is boring or a phony anyway. I may be a New Yorker, but I am not in therapy. I have a boring job, for which I am overeducated and underqualified, but I lack the ambition to commit to a serious career. (Usually I have family money.) I hang out with my equally disconnected friends in many of the city's bars. I drink a lot, take recreational drugs, don't care about much except being clever. I recently broke up with my girlfriend, and while I am eager to have sex, which I do often given the zillions of available women in New York, the sex is not especially fulfilling, and emotions rarely enter the picture. I am deeply shallow. And I know it.

I agree almost 100%. Just like chick lit, guy lit got old quickly. Kimmel dates guy lit back to Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City, though he notes the movement really took off with the appearance of the more recent Nick Hornby. Further, Kimmel sort of implies that these works are "decent". Again I agree, though I don't think Hornby has done anything better than his first (I think) novel, High Fidelity. I do have one bone to pick with Mr. Kimmel; he omitted the two best works in the genre: Mark Barrowcliffe's Girlfriend 44 and Michael Chabon's The Mysteries of Pittsburgh -- a much better work than his Pulitzer-winning novel.

Still and all, I agree with his thesis -- guy lit is boring and empty and it's going to die with a grand whimper. What I had not thought about, though, is why guy lit never really burned with the same (commercial) fire as chick lit. Here's Kimmel's answer:

And that may be guy lit's biggest problem: Its readers are unlikely to resemble the guys the books are ostensibly about. As long as the antiheroes stay stuck, and the transformative trajectory is either insincere, as in Kunkel's Indecision, or nonexistent, as in Smith's Love Monkey, these writers will miss their largest potential audience. For it is women who buy the most books, and what women seem to want is for men to be capable of changing (and to know that a woman's love can change them).

...

Women won't read these books unless there is some hope of redemption, some effort these guys make to change. And men won't read them because, well, real men don't read.

That last sentiment depressed the hell out of me. See, I've been toying with a guy lit novel of my own. Now I'd like to think mine is different (and better of course) than the rest of the slop in the genre, but I'd never thought of the gender gap in reading as an issue to be dealt with. I think that does explain, though, why so many bad chick lit novels were published while the guy lit phenomenon has been much more limited (though no less bad). I guess there's really no reason for me to work on my novel anymore, huh? Still, Mr. Hornby seems to do okay. Hmm ...

All-in-all, though, I agree that guy lit is not going to leave a mark on literature. There's simply no reason to care about the characters or their fates. In the words of Mr. Kimmel, "I'm not at all sure that Holden — or I, for that matter — would want to be friends with them."

Best paragraph(s) I've read today

Confession: I sort of stole the post title from the folks over at Marginal Revolution, but I doubt they'll prosecute -- they're libertarians after all.

I always wanted to plant allium, the large ornamental onion, and VolMom always said no. In seed catalogs, it was usually pictured in full bloom with a small, blonde child standing next to it, and the kid always a little shorter the top of the seed head. They look like big starry lollipops.

With adulthood comes responsibility, working and paying bills and stuff. But with it also comes the power of decision-making. Ice cream sandwich and a beer for breakfast? Why not. Stay up late, watch a movie full of swearing and bare breasts. I can if I feel like it. Alliums in the garden. Absolutely.

Those paragraphs are from my old high school chum, The Vol Abroad. What's special about those paragraphs? The imagery. First the big starry lollipops -- I could see them. Next the description of adulthood. Vol didn't just say, "You can eat and do what you want." No, she gave vivid, concrete examples. In addition, there are pictures of her garden and a "way cool" slate/mirror mosaic. I want to hang out in Vol's garden.

So was my mood lifted by reading such quality writing? Well maybe ... On the other hand, I was a little pissed to realize that Vol still is a better writer and has a more interesting life than I do. Those of you who know both of us likely are asking, "You just now realized that? What, are you daft?" No, I've always known that, but I could have done without the reminder.

Being totally uninspired myself, I decided to honor and mooch off a friend today. So I guess thanks are in order: Thanks Vol, just write a clunker every once in a while so I can feel better about myself. Okay?

Bad start, part 2

Okay today has gone just about as badly as I'd feared.

First, talking about introductory economics for 2 hours at a stretch is not fun.

Second, the IT folks are trying to make sure I do not embrace technology. I swear they make the simplest things as difficult as possible. AFTER my orientation session, I found out that we have 2 different WebtCT sites (to correspond to the 2 different versions we are running) and each site has its own login protocol. Further, if my students login to the wrong site, they won't see my class.

Third, I want to smite "Amy", my oh so helpful customer service rep from Overstock.com. I have ordered from Overstock in the past with no problems. On May 9th, though, I ordered a book and a CD, and the CD still has not arrived. I've already read the book, but still no tunes. There's a USPS tracking number for my CD, but the only thing it tells me is that my item left their Atlanta distribution center on May 14th. Today is the 23rd! I could have walked the CD here from Atlanta by now! I know Overstock has no control over the post office, but Amy was not being very helful. All she'd do was spout the standard line about how "media items may take from 2 to 15 days to arrive." If I have not received my item by May 31st, she said, they'd be happy to assist me then. Basically she was telling me to go away and leave her alone. I tried to make her see that there's an obvious problem since my CD left the Atlanat PO over a week ago, but she'd have none of it. I'm not to bother them again until the 31st. Oh, did I mention Amy and I were communicating via "live chat"? I hate that!

So, today has not been a stellar day. On the plus side, I did get a sort of good vibe from my face-to-face class this morning. We'll see how long it takes before that wears off.

Not a good start

So far my summer is not off to a good start. First, I don't think the break between spring and summer terms is nearly long enough (about 3 months is the optimal length). I am, though, resigned to the realities of summer school. Now, however, the fates are conspiring against me.

I have to teach this "distance learning" econ class this summer, but I spent most of last week figuring out how to use all the WebCT bells and whistles to make that go. Now the one crucial thing I need from the book rep and her company is not coming through. To quote her:

I feel certain they will send this to you and xxxx shortly! If you do NOT hear from them by tomorrow, please let me know!!! I know they were doing maintenance on our systems over the weekend, starting sometime on Friday. So they may have not gotten to it yet. Keep me informed : )

Now I have to have my orientation sessions tomorrow, but I'm not sure the stuff I need to show them will be available. Keep in mind that this is the one time I'll see these students all summer (other than test days). ARGH!

On top of that, I have to work registration today. I DETEST working registration. I don't hate it because of the work involved. Rather, I hate it because of the lack of work or reason or sanity or ... involved. The last time I worked it, I sat around and talked to an English prof for an hour-and-a-half and then came back to the office. The folks that work in admissions/registration/etc. were the ones actually doing the work!

Finally, the cool weather has ended. We'd enjoyed a couple of weeks of very pleasant weather, but today is shaping up to be a burner. Yes, I know it's that time of year and such weather is to be expected. While the weather is expected, I did not expect the entire AC for our building to be kaput this morning. Yep, I've been sitting her sweltering for about 3 hours. Right now it is 80.8 [er, 82.3 a few hours later] degrees in my office.

In normal times none of these things would cause me more than mild irritation. Seeing as summer school starts tomorrow, though, I take them as ominious portents of a very bad summer.

Ahh, time off

Yes, blogging has been light this week as I'm officially on break. Mind you I've still been in the office half the time, but I didn't have to be here. So why have I been here? Well in part because I have nothing else to do and I have a nifty internet connection here, but mostly because I'm trying to get things ready for that blasted "distance learning" econ class I have to start teaching next week. Grr.

On the plus side, I have taken some fun time this week. Monday I took a trip to a new part of the Sipsey. I hit an area that I had not visited before, but I underestimated. I was planning a 5 mile or so hike, but I ended up going on an 8-10 mile trek. The weather was pretty good and the terrain wasn't too bad, but I did have to cross the Sipsey River twice without the aid of a bridge. See the Sipsey truly is "unimproved" for the most part and many of the trails cross one or more of the streams in the forest. A trail ends on one side of the river and starts again on the other. How you get over there is up to you. The first time I was able to find a large downed tree that I used to get across. The second time, though, I had no choice but to wade.

I looked and looked, but the "best" crossing I found still was almost waist deep. Fortunately I had my "zip off leg" hiking pants on so I was able to get across without soaking my clothing and the bottom was sandy so I didn't have to deal with bare feet on sharp rocks. I know it's May, but the Sipsey River water still is mighty cold on bare legs. In the end, though, I made it safely back with my worst injury being a tweaked hamstring. All-in-all a good day. Oh, I also found a new (to me) waterfall that was spectacular. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me so no pix.

Anyway, that was the highlight of the first part of the week. Thailand Jeff and I are going on a Nashville trip tomorrow and Friday, so I may have some good stories when I get back -- assuming I get back.

Oh, since I won't be blogging tomorrow, Happy (early) Anniversary to loyal reader, Ang.

Can you spare some change?

Given my well-documented "weirdo magnet", I'm never surprised when random folks on the street pick me out as an "easy mark" and hit me up for a monetary "donation". [Okay, I'm through with " "s.] I now live on a street with a good bit of random foot traffic and I've been hit up a couple of times while messing around out in front of the house. A couple of weeks ago, though, I had a new experience.

I was sitting in my porch swing, reading the newspaper, when this guy came walking by. I could almost see him debating my worth as a target. He decided to give it a shot. He walked up to the porch and started his pitch:

You don't remember me, do you? I'm John Doe. Yeah, man, I've been having a rough time. First off, I'M NOT A CRIMINAL (this was repeated many times). Man, my mom just passed away and I've been out walking -- to relieve the stress. I think I've probably walked 42 miles today and I just wondered if you could do me a favor? I've been walking all day and I'm about to starve. Could you do a man a favor and let me have a little money to get a burger at Hardee's?

He didn't even pause for an answer. Instead he essentially repeated his whole spiel, except that this time he decided to ask for enough to get a fish plate. I don't know where his fish plate was going to come from, but he needed $10 for that.

Now I debate the wisdom of giving money to panhandlers, but I figured he'd given me a good performance and that should be worth something. Plus, I hate to admit it, but part of me worries about eventual retaliation if one turns down opportunities for donations. Anyway, I figured I'd give him something -- but NOT $10; his story wasn't that good. Problem is, I never carry much cash on me. I stuck my head in the door and checked my wallet and all I had was a single dollar bill. I'd figured on giving him something more than that, so I grabbed a handful of change from my change jar. All-in-all, it was probably about $3. When I started to give it to him, though, he protested. "Surely you can do better than that. C'mon man, how about $10?" I was amazed! I'd never encountered a panhandler who'd argue about how much you were giving him and I told Mr. John Doe that I thought his actions were a tad cheeky. He immediately retreated and said he didn't mean to be ungrateful. It must just be that he was weak from hunger, he said. In the end, he decided that he would take my money.

I had put that all out of my mind until one day last week when I saw him walking down the street again. As before, he stopped in front of my house and started with, "You don't remember me, do you?" I told him that I did, in fact, remember him (though it soon became obvious he didn't remember me), but he'd already rushed past that point. This time he told me that he was just all stressed out because he'd been stationed over in Baghdad. He'd just now gotten back and he was messed up. I told him that he'd already hit me up last week with a different story. "No," he protested, "I swear to God that wasn't me." I told him it most certainly was him and that he'd had a recently deceased mother the last time I'd talked to him.

That must have rung a bell because he seemed to give up after that. He started to walk away and I heard him mutter, "Man, I've been drawing bad all day." I don't know, but I took that to mean he'd been picking bad marks that day.

I figured since I paid for the story, I should be able to recycle it myself.

This ain't right

I still enjoy watching many sports, but I don't really get worked up about the sports world any longer. [Note: I'm excluding baseball, but baseball is much more than just a sport, no?] This sports brief from the Clarion Ledger the other day, though, well it got me riled up. You have to scroll down and it's short anyway, so I'll paste the whole thing:

Mullins Award may be changed: Fifteen years after a paralyzed football player's death focused national attention on Ole Miss, school officials are considering changing how Chucky Mullins is honored.

Since 1990, the Chucky Mullins Courage Award winner has been selected each spring, given to a senior defensive player. The winning player always has worn Mullins' No. 38 the next season. In 2006 it will be stellar linebacker Patrick Willis.

Many players have worn the same number their entire careers. They become attached to that number and want to continue to be identified with it.

Now, the athletic administration is working with the executive board of the M Club - which honors Ole Miss lettermen in all sports - to consider permanently retiring No. 38.

The football staff also will have input.

"We want to preserve the legacy and integrity of the award and make a decision that will be best with those factors in mind," Walker Jones, the associate athletics director for internal affairs, told the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal newspaper.

If the number is retired, the award winner likely would wear a patch on his jersey or a helmet decal bearing No. 38. A decision is expected this summer.

For those of you who don't know, Chucky Mullins was an Ole Miss defensive back who was paralyzed after a hit on Vanderbilt's Brad Gaines during the 1989 Vandy game (My first ever Ole Miss football game by the way. I think it was even homecoming.). It was a sad story and the Ole Miss community responded in a good way. The football team established the Chucky Award as a way to make sure he was remembered and honored. I always thought it'd be a major honor to be selected to wear #38. Now, though, I suspect the younger players have no real sense of the history of the number. Instead, "Many players have worn the same number their entire careers. They become attached to that number and want to continue to be identified with it." So what? This is bigger than a player getting to keep a number he's worn in the past. It's an honor, damnit! At least that's my view.

The whole thing reminds me of the stupid PR stunt orchestrated by Major League Baseball a few years ago when it was decided that Jackie Robinson's #42 would be permanently retired by all MLB teams. I understood the desire to honor Robinson, but I thought it was a bigger honor to see #42 being worn in tribute by today's players. Now, though, every team has a 42 on the wall somewhere and the whole thing gets lost in the busy signage of the modern ballpark. I figure the same thing will happen with Chucky Mullins. So what if the honored player wears a 38 patch or decal? There are too many patches and decals already today.

Yes, I know I'm making too big a deal of this, probably in part because I was a student at Ole Miss when Chucky was injured. Further, I don't know this was motivated by current player discontent. Still, the whole thing strikes me as selfish whining by kids (or maybe coaches?) with no sense of history. I hope the administration does the right thing.

Future marketing major

The guy who did this


HAS to be a future marketing major!

I didn't figure the picture would show up very well, so you're probably asking, "What is 'this'?" I'll tell you. At the end of every semester there are lots of flyers posted around campus by students trying to sell their textbooks to other students rather than taking the pennies offered by the bookstore. This guy, though, took things a little beyond the typical flyer. What, did he use colored paper or fancy graphics to make his offer stand out? No, he posted his offer on a bathroom stall wall! Yep, right there among all the "for a good time call ..." offers, is an offer to sell an econ book and a stats book -- complete with phone number. I'm tempted to call and ask the fella if he realizes he's committed an act of vandalism, but I'm afraid I'd find out it was one of my students.

Still, I see bright things for this guy. I bet he ends up selling mobile homes.

Eerie story

First off, I'm through with finals -- tests all corrected, grades submitted, etc. -- and now I don't know what to do with myself. Officially today and tomorrow are "duty days" (i.e., I'm supposed to show up at the office), but I don't have anything to work on. Hmm, I guess I could start reviewing stats books, as we are considering a textbook change pretty soon. Nah, that sounds too much like what I've been doing the past few months. Wait, I could try to get things organized for the online course I'm teaching this summer. Nah, that's something I'd rather pretend doesn't exist. I guess I'll just goof off, but doing what?

Okay, I'll admit that previous paragraph was sort of meant as a "rub it in" to those of you working today. Now, though, I'd like to draw your attention to an eerie story from the AP today. A couple of folks at some sort of conference in Southern California wandered off for a little day hike and ended up lost in the wilderness for 3 days. I've never really understood how you could get that lost, but I know it happens and it may well happen to me one day. Actually, given my previous wilderness adventures, I'm pretty sure it'll happen to me one day.

Anyway, what makes this story eerie is that the folks were "saved" by finding the abandoned campsite of a hiker who went missing (and still hasn't been found) one year ago. They raided his pack and got some warm clothes and matches with which they were able to start a signal fire that led to their rescue.

They found identification showing the camper was Donovan, 60, a retired social worker from Virginia. They learned later that he was an experienced hiker who had been following the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail, from Southern California to the Canadian border, when he vanished May 2, 2005 in icy weather.

His journal, in the form of notes written on sketch paper and on the back of maps, depicted a man without hope of rescue, Day said.

"His last journal entry was one year ago to the day that we found it, which was very eerie," Day said. "Nobody knew where he was, nobody knew to come looking for him, so he was preparing for the end. We were looking at the words of a man who was passing."

This was just too "weird" for me. First, they are saved by his pack which they find ONE YEAR TO THE DAY from his last journal entry. Second, I can only imagine how freaked out they were reading his last journal entries where he had apparently given up all hope of rescue. What would you choose to write at a time like that? Whatever he wrote, I can't imagine it made these two lost, inexperienced hikers hopeful. Finally, how weird is it that no one had even found his campsite before? As far as I can tell, Donovan had simply been given up as "missing" with no clues to his final location. Now, "authorities planned to search the area over the weekend for signs of Donovan."

The whole thing is just a little too "touched by an angel" for me. Actually, it sort of reminds me of the short-lived TV show, Mysterious Ways. Was I the ONLY person who liked that show? Well there must not have been many of us or it wouldn't have died as quickly as it did, huh?

Anyway, the whole thing just struck me as a bit creepy and I hope nothing like this ever happens to me out in the woods.

TX Song Title

Given all the "creative" artists to come out of the great state of Texas (Robert Earl Keen, Jerry Jeff Walker, Willie (no last name needed), Lyle Lovett, etc.), I'd never have expected the Best Texas Artist Song Title Ever (an honor I just now made up) to have come from someone called The Mountain Goats. Yesterday, though, I heard a song by them (although something I read made me think it might just be a "him") on my Pandora station. The song is called, "The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton." Now THAT is a song title. Oh, the song wasn't so bad either. I'm still thinking Todd Snider might have some better song titles, but I don't know if I'd call him an authentic Texas musician even though he does have a great story about trying to get to Lubbock.

Anyway, if you have a better nominee for the BTASTE award, let me hear from you. YES, Caffeine Brother, part of the motivation for this post was to see if I could tempt you into commenting.

Got to run; going to a ball game in Huntsville -- assuming the rain holds off.

P.S. Just another plug for Pandora. If you don't already have a Pandora station, get one NOW at the link above. It's incredibly simple (yes, Caffeine Brother, I know there may be some quirks) and it's a pretty good service.

Sigh, politics ...

FOREWARNING: I didn't intend for it to, but this post turned into a lottery rant. Sorry. If you're sick to death of hearing my opinion on that, just check back for a new topic tomorrow.

I've been too depressed to comment on the trial of Don Siegelman (former AL Gov.) and Richard Scrushy (former HealthSouth exec who just happened to find religion just in time to save himself from a federal conviction in his last trial), but I can't let this story pass without comment.

A little background (in case you're not local): While Siegelman was governor he kept getting all these lucky breaks. His house sold for something like double its appraised value, motorcycles and 4-wheelers just happened to end up being given to him for no reason, etc. What makes it really lucky for old Don is that bunches of people associated with his administration have ended up convicted of or pleading guilty to various forms of influence peddling. Poor old Don (much like Ken Lay at Enron) was just an innocent victim of the "bad seeds" around him. Now the feds, mad that Scrushy slipped away in an unbelievable jury verdict last year, have gone after Don for supposedly "selling" a seat on a state hospital board to Scrushy for a $500,000 donation to his failed lottery campaign. Mind you all of this is alleged, nothing has been proven, etc.

Anyway, today's story focuses on the testimony of a former Siegelman fundraiser:

Former Gov. Don Siegelman's fund-raiser said it struck him as strange when the governor suddenly showed up in 1999 with a $250,000 lottery donation from a mysterious Maryland company.

Siegelman explained the check was from HealthSouth founder Richard Scrushy, Darin Cline testified Monday in the government corruption case. Also unusual, Cline said, was that Siegelman later said he was returning the check but didn't do it.

Evidently this was unusual enough that a professional fundraiser decided to sit on a $250,000 check because, "no one in the campaign knew who the company was or why a Maryland outfit would care about a lottery in Alabama." Hmm, why indeed?

The blatant sleeze is bad enough, but what's this fundraiser guy's final opinion about all the shenanigans he witnessed?

But on cross-examination, Cline said he personally never witnessed Siegelman doing anything improper in his fund raising, and considered him the best governor Alabama has ever had.

That's right, folks, this is THE BEST GOVERNOR ALABAMA HAS EVER HAD! I find that sentiment too depressing for words.

Of course all this would just be politics as normal (unfortunately) except that now old Don is running for Governor AGAIN! Is he going to let a little thing like a federal corruption trial stop him? NO! According to Don, it's all a political ploy by (current) Gov. Riley who, by the way, stole the last election from Siegelman in the first place.

Okay, okay, innocent until proven guilty and all that. Don must have some smashing new ideas for state government now, right? I mean why else would he jump back into a race for a position he was asked to leave in the last election? Here's the meat and potatoes of his platform (as far as I can tell): LET'S HAVE A LOTTERY!

Uh, Don, that was exactly the same platform you had before. I hated the idea so much then I had to hold my nose and vote for Fob James (something I'm REALLY not proud of) and I hate it just as much now. The people of AL apparently liked your idea enough to elect you, but they then defeated the lottery proposal when it came to a vote -- I still haven't figured out the logic behind that one.

So does Don have a new way of selling the lottery idea? No, he's still spouting the same ideas about funding scholarships like Georgia. I will save the full on lottery rant for another day, but just in case any of you have forgotten -- the "hugely successful" GA HOPE Scholarship program isn't quite as successful as some would claim. Cornwell and Mustard (from UGA) have a page devoted to research on some of the "surprising" outcomes. Among their findings:

1. There was a statewide increase in HS GPA after 1993 (when HOPE was introduced) with a big spike at the B level (the requirement to get a scholarship), yet state SAT scores did not show a similar improvement. I think we can all figure out that one.
2. The majority (approx. 2/3) of the gain (only about 6% total) in GA higher ed enrollments apparently comes from tempting folks who would have gone out of state to stay home. That is, it's not really doing much for the overall number of Georgians who go to (or at least finish) college.
3. What do folks do with all the tuition savings? Well one of their papers seems to show a big increase in car registrations in counties that got a lot of HOPE scholarships. In other words, Junior now gets a new car rather than a college education from the folks. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it's not a sign that kids are going to college who wouldn't have been able to do so otherwise.
4. So HOPE doesn't really put more kids in school, but maybe it's still worthwhile if it can help students graduate without crippling financial burdens, right? Well, maybe, if not for my personal favorite, who gets the benefit and who pays the cost? "Counties with relatively large shares of African Americans, low-income and poorly educated people spend relatively more on lottery tickets, and bear the largest share of the implicit lottery tax burden." Further, "Scholarships are more likely to be awarded to counties with higher per capita incomes, thus exacerbating the difference from the lottery sales." In other words, the highly touted HOPE program is a wealth transfer FROM the poor TO the middle- and upper-classes.

I'm way too much of a "free will libertarian" to tell anyone not to support a lottery, but I will tell people not to support a lottery as a way to help the poor! Okay, okay, I've got to get back to grading. I just wanted, once again, to rail on this.

Almost ...

Just one more day (after today) of finals! I think I'm going to survive. Of course I still don't have those stats projects graded, but I promise I'm about to start.

Hopefully I'll finish everything in the next day or two and then I'll have a week or two before summer school to play. I'm open to suggestions if anyone has any good ideas. I believe Thailand Jeff will be in Alabama any day now, so maybe we'll come up with something to do. First things first, though, I have to help Berkowitz bottle his latest batch of wine this week.

Anyway, that's about it for today. The weekend was rather "blah" and today I need to be grading. I can, though, see the light at the end of the tunnel -- at least for the semester. Oh, I guess it's a good thing I didn't wager my fortune on the Derby.

I'm puzzled

I don't have enough interest for a full on rant, but one aspect of the Patrick Kennedy scandal does puzzle me. Here's a quote from Kennedy:

"I am deeply concerned about my reaction to the medication and my lack of knowledge of the accident that evening," he said during a brief news conference at the Capitol. "But I do know enough that I know I need help."

Here's what puzzles me, isn't it his claim that the whole thing was caused by the interaction of two medications -- a sleep aid and a stomach medicine? If that is the case, then why does he "need help" and how's this related in any way to an addiction to pain killers? I just don't see how making the mistake of taking two drugs that interacted with each other can be cured by a trip to the Mayo Clinic.

Should I Wager?

If I were a believer in signs, then I guess I should place a huge bet on today's Derby favorite, huh? Well I'm not a betting person so I didn't, but I wanted to go "on the record" before the race.

Feel Good Friday

It's Friday, I have all my final exams made out, and there's a party tonight. All-in-all, it's shaping up to be a pretty good day. Hence, I figured I'd share a "feel good" story from today's Huntsville Times:

Press your palms hard against your ears and close your eyes. That's the way activist-athlete Mimi Hughes, 49, will be experiencing Europe this summer, when she wears ear plugs and eye goggles to protect her against pollutants in the Danube River.

She starts the 1,771-mile swim Sunday, expecting to spend the next 89 days swimming eight to 10 hours a day.

Ms. Hughes is swimming the Danube to raise awareness of environmental issues, especially as they relate to the world's rivers. I'm always in awe of folks who are willing to go to such lengths for a cause -- especially one I support. Seriously, though, this is a 1771 mile swim she's attempting! Only one other person (a Slovenian man) has done it before. Wow!

Will she make it? I don't know, but I wouldn't be against her. Evidently Hughes did the same thing a couple of years ago with the TN River ("only" 652 miles) and she once swam the Bering Strait (the whole thing?) to encourage U.S.-Russian friendship. Her story makes me feel kind of puny and worthless, but I'm also inspired that someone cares that much.

Actually this story is another reminder to me of just how unique the Huntsville area is. Though located deep in the heart of North Alabama, Huntsville is not your typical Alabama city. At least once a month I see a story about a local citizen that makes me ask, "How did that person end up in Huntsville?" Sure the rocket scientists are old hat, but I recently read a story about a Huntsville family that served as a host family for a girl from Hiroshima in the 1950s (some kind of reconstructive surgery program). Then there was a story about a local doctor who was one of the physicians in charge of treating the "bubble boy" (sorry, I don't remember the kid's name, but it was the one they made the movie about) years ago. It just doesn't seem that there should be this many legitimately interesting folks in a city the size of Huntsville. At least that's my take.

This isn't "hateful"?

I've always had a problem with "hate crime" laws. It just seems inherently wrong to me to alter the severity of punishment for a crime based on characteristics of the victim. Yes, I know that's not exactly what hate crime laws do and yes, I know that goes on even without specific statutes. Still, while I understand the motivation, I've always felt such laws were a bit icky. Plus, I believe they create a potential backlash against real progress on the "can't we all get along" front. Still, that's just my opinion.

Now, though, it seems that hate crime laws create different punishment based on characteristics of the victim AND the perpetrator. At least that's the message I get from this story in the Huntsville Times. Evidently someone went on a vandalizing spree in the parking lot of a local business the day after the "Day Without Immigrants" march. Not only was it a case of vandalism, but the vast majority (10 of 13) of the vehicles were owned by Hispanic workers. Sound like a "hate crime"? It did to the authorities until they discovered that the perpetrator himself was a Hispanic man:

Ricardo Hernandez, 38, of 3809 Thomas Road, Apt. 13, was charged with felony criminal mischief and possession of a forged instrument, said Capt. Andy Jackson, commander of the north precinct. Jackson said Hernandez had forged resident alien (green card) and Social Security cards.

...

The officer who answered the call from Cinram filled out a supplement form with the criminal mischief reports classifying the incident as a hate crime. But, Jackson said, it did not turn out to be a hate crime.

Jackson said the apparent reason the Hispanic-owned vehicles were vandalized was in retaliation against the owners who went to work on Monday when Hispanic leaders encouraged Hispanics not to go to work.

So this was a case of retaliation against Hispanic workers who did not honor Monday's boycott and the AL hate crime statute provides for additional penalties when the felony is motivated by "the victim's actual or perceived race, color, religion, national origin, ethnicity, or physical or mental disability." While I may not agree with the notion of extra "hate crime" punishments, how can this NOT be one?

To a T ...

Melusina recently reminisced about that quintessential Southern drink -- iced tea. Two quick notes:

1. Some Southerners INSIST that the drink is called ICE tea (no "d") and that only transplants to the region would stick that extraneous letter on the end. These transplants probably are the same ones who think cornbread should have sugar in it. Personally, I have no opinion on the ice/iced controversy, though the sugar in the cornbread thing is just wrong. Maybe not as wrong as the DH in baseball, but it's up there.
2. I do realize that some Southerners might have a higher opinion of another Southern drink -- one concocted by Mr. Beam or Mr. Daniel or ... They have a strong point, but which would you have an easier time finding in New York City: a shot of Jack or a cold glass of sweet tea?

Anyway, back to the tale. Melusina was complaining about her difficulties in getting iced (or ice) tea in Greece. Sorry, Mel, but you ARE living in another country you know! So anyway, Mel's story reminded me of a "foreign country" iced tea story of my own and I thought I'd share.

If you're a regular reader of 3rd B, you know (at least indirectly) my long-time friend, Ang. Well one year in grad school, Ang had the semester from hell. She decided to do an internship thing in Washington, D.C. I won't go into all the details (feel free to contribute if you want, Ang), but let's just say it wasn't a pleasant experience. Of course THE bright spot (I'm sure) of the whole semester was when her dear friend, St. Caffeine, decided to use his spring break to pay her a visit. Though I'm sure we did lots of culturally edifying stuff, what I remember most is a meal we ate one night at one of those casual sit down chains -- T.G.I. Friday's, Ruby Tuesday, ...

As I recall, the three of us (Ang's roommate came along) decided to go out to dinner. As is fairly standard the waiter stopped by take our drink orders. Though Ang herself is (was) a DEDICATED Coca-Cola drinker, at least two of us ordered tea and at least one ordered UNSWEET tea. Though I'm sure our accents eventually would have revealed our origins, the minute he heard someone specify UNSWEET tea, he knew where we hailed from. Though I guess I knew Northerners didn't consume sweet tea and there was no reason to specify unsweet, force of habit made me stick that adjective onto my drink order.

Regardless, being a good waiter (i.e., a tip whore) the guy tried to bond with us. He told us all about how he spent a summer way down south -- in Virginia I believe. Now Virginia certainly is an Old South state, but it's not the same South as AL and MS so his bonding wasn't very successful. Still, he was trying. His master stroke, though, was when he brought our drinks to the table. The idiot had put what appeared to be several bushels of mint sprigs in our tea! Everyone knows that Southerners put mint in their tea, right? NO, WE DON'T! Sure, if you're at the Kentucky Derby or some posh country club event some mint might slip into your drink, but that's mostly for appearance sake. Real ice tea does not have a shaggy layer of mint floating in the glass. Oh well, he tried. I seem to recall we rewarded his attempt with a larger than normal tip, though Ang wasn't rolling in dough that semester and I was living on a less than luxurious stipend myself so I'm not sure just how generous we were. By D.C. standards, I figure not much. Oh well, WE tried.

So, Mel, even if you get ice/iced tea in a "foreign" country it may not be what you're used to. Ang, if you remember things differently and you want to bust me for poetic excess, feel free. Other than that, just trying to get through final exams.

I'm mooching today

We're just about to start final exams, so I have no time for the fun stuff. Hence, today I'm going to mooch off the latest Sebastian Mallaby column in the WaPo. This guy consistently provides some of the best op-ed writing in any major American newspaper -- in my opinion. Today he's discussing the Vioxx lawsuits. While I'm not as "into" the tort reform movement as some others, some of the trial outcomes (and especially the statements after the trails) drive me bonkers. While this is not a typical Mallaby column and not one of his best overall, he still turns a nice phrase:

Sticking up for a painkiller that boosts the risk of heart attack is an unconventional approach to winning votes. But the Vioxx litigation -- 11,500 lawsuits and counting -- is so crazy and repulsive that it makes even drug companies look virtuous. It glorifies prejudice above science as much as Bush's stance on global warming; it wastes money as grotesquely as Bush's tolerance of pork.

While the column starts with some (potentially?) tongue-in-cheek advice to the Pres., Mallaby later moves to the general insanity of trials involving scientific evidence:

Far from taking Merck's medicine for the 18 months identified [in the study that got Vioxx pulled] as dangerous, the smoker [and previous heart attack sufferer] had taken it for no more than one month, making the claimed association with his heart attack all the more implausible.

Ordinary mortals would be embarrassed to demand millions of dollars on this basis. But the way the trial bar tells it, defiance of science is a triumph rather than a scandal. "This is the first case in the country where short-term usage has been found by a jury to be causatory of heart attacks," exulted the plaintiff's attorney, skirting the question of how 12 laymen can be said to "find" medical causation. "We hope this will go a long way in dispelling this 18-month science fiction myth," the mythmaker went on.

Though it's easy to identify the "problem", I'm not sure what the solution is. I'm certainly not in favor of a "loser pay" system to reduce frivolous suits as I realize that would make it impossible for David to sue Goliath. Nor do I think Mallaby's solutions are realistic, but something's got to be done. I hate to invoke the specter of John Galt, but sometimes I think it might be appropriate.