Bad Headlines

Writing headlines is hard, I know -- both my parents and my in-laws owned newspapers, my wife used to write tons of press releases, and I worked on the school paper in college, and it's nowhere near as easy as you'd think. Sometimes you mean to say one thing, and then when you go back and re-read what you wrote you've actually said something quite different.

Even the Big Boys get it wrong.

For instance, MSNBC.com is the largest news site on the Internet. And yet, sometimes even their headlines are really, really bad. Here's a sampling from today's edition that made me laugh, along with the alternate interpretation I had when first looking at them:

• American Cheek 'blew everybody away' in 500M - You would think it would be American Lips doing the blowing, but apparently no, it's just the cheeks.


• Cheney's accident victim stable - He needs a whole stable to keep his accident victims in?! I thought it was just one guy he shot!


• British soldier held in videotape beating - When, oh when, will the military quit abusing videotapes? I could see it if they were beating DVD's but video?! That's just cruel.


• Hurricane homeless lose hotel battle - I find it sad that so many homeless hurricanes are wandering the streets without a hotel.

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More Fun With China

Here's the latest from an e-mail by a Chinese vendor:

What's more, we price cheapness.

I wonder what cheapness is going for these days?

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Why You Don't Name Pets After Relatives

Annie: Wow, Jill's nipples are really engorged!
Me: ::blink::
Annie: No, not COUSIN Jill, DONKEY Jill!
Me: Phew!

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Pivot Point

I read a great blog article the other day at Opinionistas.com about Pivot Points, which in movie terms is "an instant where you realize precisely what you’ve gotten yourself into". It reminded me of my own Pivot Point, when I realized just what working at Dell Computers was all about, and which directly led to my quitting to work full-time on HeroMachine.

I'd been working at Dell Computers for several years. The corporate culture there basically dictated that the employee with the least life outside the office wins. Put in a ton of hours on a project, bail right before it collapses and move on to greener pastures while someone else cleans up the mess, never let on that you're not at the office, on and on, your typical "Climb the Corporate Ladder" stuff.

Our team had just merged with another group in software development (one of the favorite corporate games at Dell is "Shuffle the Org Chart") a week before. It was time for the yearly "Attaboy" party, so the new fused team held the party together. They were handing out awards, and then the leader of the group stood up to make a special presentation.

"This award for the best team player goes to Tim. Tim's wife had a baby towards the end of the project, when things were really heating up. But Tim didn't let that stop him, he was in the office first thing in the morning and was the last man out. He practically never saw his new daughter, and in fact didn't get to spend any time with her until after she'd already taken her first steps!" Delighted applause and cheers from the others, appalled slack-jawed amazement from me. "So way to go, Tim, good job!"

I couldn't believe that missing your daughter's birth and first steps, ignoring your wife and newborn, spending more time at the office than with the two most precious people in the world, was a GOOD THING. A distinction deserving of engraved awards. A model to be held up before the entire community as a paragon of corporate achievement.

I left the company two months later to work full-time on HeroMachine, vowing I would never become a corporate whore like that poor bastard Tim, grinning like a slack-jawed moron as my life was slowly sucked out of my veins.

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Animal Inferiority?

So let's recap:

• Killer whales can learn new tricks, and teach them to other killer whales just like humans teach each other.


• It's long been known that chimpanzees can use tools, but now we've seen that not only can birds use them too, but they will actually make their own tools.


• Dolphins are altruistic, and have even been seen to save humans in trouble.


• Bonobos and other monkeys have been able to learn to use symbols to communicate with humans at a 2½ year old child level.


• No animal has ever detonated a nuclear device.

It seems to me that the line between "us" and "them" is getting blurrier and blurrier every day. Every time an argument is made that trait x or ability y "sets us apart" from the "lower species", someone finds an animal that can do it.

We used to think it was language, but clearly other species can use language to communicate. We used to think it was tool usage, but even bird-brains have now been shown to make and use tools. We used to think it was our moral sense, but clearly animals express and feel our same range of emotions, both positive and negative.

Inevitably we retreat each time another conceit is knocked down, hiding behind more and more desperate rationales, deathly afraid of losing our moral superiority, until finally we have to resort to a flat declaration of unimpeachable faith to justify our domination of and superiority over other animals. "We're better becase we have a soul and they don't, even though we're alike in every other way" is pretty thin justification for how we treat them.

I've never understood the kind of person who only feels worthy by putting others down, as if insulting and degrading someone else inevitably raises their own value. It doesn't. All we really succeed in doing, like cruel sorority sisters demeaning the rejected pledge, is harming ourselves.

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METAPOST: Commenting

I've unfortunately gotten hit with a spate of comment spam, which is when some automated computer system posts a "comment" on your blog that's actually an advertisement for some product. To keep from having to delete all of those, I have turned on the feature that says you have to be a registered user to leave a comment.

We'll try that for a bit and see how it works. My apologies for any frustrations this may cause.

UPDATE: That didn't work. So, now I've turned on word authentication. Hopefully that'll do it.

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Eeeeewewwwww

Photo courtesy Hope Davidson

From the "That's Gotta Hurt" Department, I present this photo of my nephew, John Davidson. John recently ran in his first marathon. While waiting in the starting area, a more experienced runner next to him glanced over and asked "Is that a new T-Shirt?" "Yes," answered John, "Fresh from the store, why?" The man just shook his head.

26 miles and 2 bloody nipples later, John now knows why you don't wear a brand new T-Shirt while running a marathon.

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The Power of Tivo

Here's why I love Tivo.

Horses have to be fed more or less on time, and so do dogs and donkeys. The rhythms of the country have their own insistent timetable, and cannot be denied. Marriages are the same way, they need to be nurtured and cared for in their own time. Earlier tonight Annie and I were having a great conversation -- nothing major or deep but good and satisfying -- when it was time for American Idol to come on.

Yes, we love American Idol. Deal with it.

But we didn't have to stop talking to watch it. We finished our conversation and, when we were ready, cranked up the Tivo to start watching the show. We were enjoying it, but it got to be time to feed the dogs. You can't just ignore that kind of thing because "your show" is on. So we paused it, she got their food ready while I got some dinner together, and when we were ready, we picked Idol back up where we'd paused it.

Later during the program my sister Diane called. I love my sister and don't get to talk to her very often. Normally though I'd be distracted, trying to follow the TV and the conversation and doing a piss-poor job of both. But thanks to Tivo, I just paused the program, Annie went up to check e-mail, and I had a great conversation with Diane. When we were done, Annie came back down and we finished the show.

Tivo is liberating. I don't feel like the TV is in control of what we watch and when any more. Now WE are in control. It's cut way down on Annie's obsessive news-watching and on my rabid following of sports. If we feel like watching TV, we watch what we want when we want.

I think that's particularly important out in the country, where you can go for days without interacting with other people. Feeling that you're not totally cut off from the rest of the world is key, and Tivo helps with that, all while ensuring that both your animals and your marriage get the proper care and feeding.

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What We Grow

When people ask me, "What do you grow on your farm?" I like to answer "We grow fat on our farm. The donkeys grow fat, the dogs grow fat, I grow fat, basically we're a fat farm and it's a bumper crop every year." Nicole Richey and Paris Hilton stopped by once and doubled in weight after just ten minutes. Now they each weigh FIFTY pounds. Weight Watchers is petitioning the government to pay us subsidies to close up shop here so they can get a grip on obesity.

Every time some celebrity staples their stomach and loses weight, where do you think it goes? That's right, it goes straight here, to Bertram, Texas.

It's like we have some kind of Caloric Enhancement Field around the place, any living creature that steps on it starts to pork up. That's why we can't raise pigs, if we brought a hog onto the property it'd explode in about ten minutes.

Hell, I sent a letter to Oprah once and she gained five pounds just opening it.

Anyway, that's what we grow here. Fat. Come on over some time, we'll serve you up a nice tall heaping stack of pancakes with syrup for breakfast and end your day with a giant plate of biscuits and gravy with pot roast on the side and pecan pie for desert.

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I Have No Responsibilities Here Whatsoever

We use an online project management application here at the office. Here in living color is proof that I am utterly blameless if anything goes wrong (click for a larger version):

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The Whisky PC

Now THIS guy is the true definition of a country nerd. A PC in a whisky bottle? He's my hero!

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Skepticism

A funny thing happened as I researched a post full of fire and brimstone about the "Scourge of Central Texas", the cedar tree, and how it invaded the state from outside and drained all the water from us. How it crushed the other species that were here before, destroying the landscape and native wildlife. The danger posed by its pernicious and explosive reproduction that outpaced all attempts to rein it in.

The funny thing that happened as I researched all this was, I discovered none of it was true.

• They're not even really "cedar" trees, they're Ashe junipers.


• They're not an exotic species, they're native to Texas at least since before the last Ice Age.


• They don't drink water at the prodigious rate they're advertised as. They choke back in dry months and ramp up in wet months, but the rate of consumption isn't that different from oaks.


• They used to be restricted to the highlands, but they've moved into every niche because humans have over grazed and over cleared the other species out.
  

The first few months on this property were spent in the relentless pursuit and destruction of these trees. We were out there with chainsaws and hand blades hacking them down, determined to bring the water table back up because we believed the prevalent sterotype.

I hate it when I do this kind of thing. I consider myself a skeptic, demanding some kind of evidence before believing in something, and trying to remind myself at all times that I could be wrong about most everything. That I bought into the cedar myth for so long makes me angry, especially when it would have been so easy to check it out.

I still plan on clearing out the fields, because they do take relentless advantage once they get a foothold, and the horses need room to run. But I'm going to leave quite a few on the ridges and among the denser growth in the back of the place.

Hopefully every time I see Ashe junipers from now on (which is every day because they are, literally, everywhere around here) I can use it as a reminder to think before I act and to confirm before I believe.

For more about the Ashe juniper and how the misunderstandings about them became so prevalent, see http://members.toast.net/juniper/Ashe%20juniper.html.

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Don't Slap That Ass!

Something that surprised me when we got our animals is that equine skin is a lot like ours in many ways. Horses and donkeys don't have thick fur like on a German Shepherd dog, or thick skin like a rhino. Their hides are covered with a relatively thin layer of hair and it's even more sensitive then yours or mine.

So when you're on a horse, or petting a donkey, don't slap at it like you see too many actors do on film. Rubbing is much more pleasant for them, or at most gentle patting. Think of them as four-legged human babies as far as their skin goes and you won't be too far off the mark.

Remember -- don't slap that ass! Or that horse for that matter. They'll appreciate it!

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Once a duck ...

I had my most surreal country experience while driving to a (very) small town outside of Austin to interview for a job. I knew nothing about the town of Taylor, but I started getting a feel for it on the drive in as I passed a meat-packing plant featuring a line of cows going in one door and trucks packed with packaged meat pulling away from another.

As I drove down the main street, I came to a banner hanging above the road. It was the kind of banner you see in small towns advertising an upcoming festival or somesuch. This one had no identifying markers on it at all, no "Kiwanas Club Presents!" or "City of Taylor Says!" or the like. No, all it had written on it, in very large, very red letters, was the simple message:

ONCE A DUCK, ALWAYS A DUCK

This bit of country Zen has stayed with me for lo these many years. Once a duck always a duck, indeed, my friend. Indeed.

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Crap, This is Dangerous

We just found out that last weekend, a woman riding on the property behind where we used to live fell off her horse and broke 3 vertebrae and 2 ribs. They had to have one of their group gallop back ten minutes to the house to call 911 ... all told it was probably 30 to 45 minutes from the time of the accident before help got there. Eventually they had to fly in a medical chopper to evacuate her, because the ambulance couldn't get through the rough terrain to where she lay.

They were in a sizeable group, and were pretty much done riding for the day. It was on the way back that her horse -- normally a reliably old hand -- spooked at something and reared up, throwing her. It can happen just like that, one second you're secure and confident and the next you've got a broken neck. And it happened right behind our old house, with our old riding group. I can't help but think that could've been us.

I worry about that every time Annie goes out. I try reminding myself that she's a good rider, that the odds are very low that anything bad will happen, but I can't help but think about Christopher Reeves and what a great rider he was and now what's happened to Judy.

Oy. I hope Judy gets better soon, all of us who have anything to do with horses will be thinking of her.

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That's It In a Nutshell

I sat down at my computer and wide-screen LCD monitor after driving to the office (which is right across the street from Dell, the largest computer maker in the world), turned on my high-powered PC so I could log in to the 'Net to start cranking out HTML and designs with my Wacom tablet, then reached into my shirt pocket to pull out my super-compact Cingular cellphone, and I came out with ...

... a handful of hay.

That pretty much sums it up.

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Vermillion Animal Aid

Vermillion Parish after Hurricane Rita

The truck loaded up with supplies.

Annie leaves in the morning for a weekend trip of mercy to the Vermillion Animal Aid group in Abbeville, Louisiana. These folks have been providing rescue services for horses, cattle, dogs, cats, and many other animals in the continuing devastation of Hurricanes Rita and Katrina. They are currently providing aid and/or shelter to 400 horses, 2300 head of cattle, 200 dogs, and countless cats left homeless by flooding and the collapse of their previous owners' entire financial lives.

Although Hurricane Katrina got most of the national attention due to the loss of New Orleans, one of America's ten largest cities, in many ways Hurrican Rita was far more devastating to Louisiana. It was a direct hit over more of the state, and mile after mile was left under water.

The flooding and winds blew away the homes and barns of hundreds of ranchers along the La. Gulf Coast. With no fences to hold the livestock, no barns to shelter them, and no houses to live in, all too many ranchers have simply had to abandon their herds and homes. But the animals have to go somewhere, and that's where Vermillion Animal Aid has stepped in. They're struggling heroically to provide help for these homeless creatures.

Annie heard about the group, and the trouble they were having getting basic supplies now that the national attention has wandered on to other things. She called her horse and dog friends in central Texas, and is headed out to Cajun Country tomorrow with a truck full of fencing supplies, dog and cat food, carriers and dog houses, and much more. She'll probably be making more trips in the months ahead, because with Annie, animals matter.

When the hurricanes hit Louisiana, we were frantic, wanting to help and not knowing how. My family lives in Baton Rouge, and they all told me to just wait. Eventually the flood of aid from around the country would slow, and that's when the state would really need help. And they were right.

There's a lot still to do in Louisiana, but Cajuns are tough people. They'll bounce back. But every little bit helps, so if you're reading this, please check out Vermillion Animal Aid or some other group helping Louisianians, and see what you can do.

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We Might Be Pregnant!

Cousin Jill, Donkey Jill, and Daddy(?)
Photo courtesy Cousin Jill

Now that my mother's had a heart attack, it would be more accurate to say, "One of our jennets (female donkeys) might be pregnant. Actually up to three of them could be in a family way, but it's hard to tell with donkeys. They have a gestation period of up to a year or so, and they don't really show much until 6 weeks or so before delivery. But we have our suspicions, prompted by the sudden emergence of teats and a suspicious bulging around the belly.

Of course the whole situation reminds me of my mom's reaction when I first told her we were getting miniature donkeys:

"You're not half-ass enough for that house?"

Ya gotta love your mother.

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The Best Part of Waking Up ...

There's something about waking up to the sensation of a dog licking your nipple that gets your whole day off to a surreal, and profoundly disturbing, start. Guarantees you take a shower that morning, that's for damn sure.

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IEPITA

If you had told me I would one day buy a $35,000 vehicle with at most 3 horsepower, I'd have laughed in your face. And yet, behold -- the Incredibly Expensive Pain In The Ass (or the IEPITA as I call it).

That's our living-quarters-built-in, tack-room-included, three-horse-stall gooseneck trailer. It has leather seats on the inside, sleeps up to four (or five if you're real friendly), has a shower and toilet for people, Texas-star cabinet pulls, and just about everything else you need to camp out in style while you ride horses.

It also has the undocumented power to drive me insane.

Ever week it's something else with the IEPITA. The winch breaks. The batteries drain. The solar panel for recharging the batteries fails. The pull-out canopy is moldy. You have to drain it for winter storage or the water lines explode. The generator needs testing. The butt-bar for the last horse stall is busted.

On and on and on and on and on ... Not to mention the difficulty of just hooking and unhooking it up to the truck. And driving it -- oy. It's like driving a bus.

But then, a bus has more than 3 horsepower, and the city has to foot the bill. I wonder if I can get a Cap Metro pass for the horses?

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