Talkers.

There are two kinds of people in the world: talkers and listeners.

I am a listener. Here's why.

First, when I am talking, I generally get the impression that the listener doesn't give a rat's you-know-what about what I have to say. Understandable. But I also have a physical defect, that is, my brain and my mouth are not synchronized very well. I pause too often to compose my thoughts, or to consider whether or not I actually believe what I am saying. It's kind of like a guy driving a car and stopping every other mile to get directions. Annoying.

So the fall back position for non-talkers is listening, or at least hearing anyway, because sometimes we listeners listen with reluctance, to put it politely.

Generally though, I enjoy hearing words formed into sentences. I can listen to National Public Radio's fund-raising segments even though I am not concentrating on the words being said. There is a pleasant cadence to the voices. The same with baseball games. There is nothing quite like the sound of a good radio play-by-play man talking you through the game, moving in and out of silence with dancer-like precision. I envy these at-ease talkers who string words together without effort.

But, talkers need listeners and listeners need talkers. Put two listeners together and the silence can be very uncomfortable. Put two talkers together and, well, you know what that's like.

There is a popular story of two famous non-talking, men of letters, Samuel Coleridge and William Wordsworth, that sums up this listener's frame of mind. It goes like this:

"Wordsworth goes to visit Coleridge at his cottage, walks in, sits down and does not utter a word for three hours. Neither does Coleridge. Wordsworth then rises and, as he leaves, thanks his friend for a perfect evening." *

Now that is my idea of a good time.
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* Quote from Roger Rosenblott, Time Magazine essay, the Silent Friendship of Men

Santa Fe. In 36 Hours.

There are a dozen American cities in which I would like to spend a month or two. Santa Fe, New Mexico is one of them.

Years ago, my wife and I had the good fortune of visiting Santa Fe for a few days and loved it. Great local restaurants, small hotels with fireplaces, shopping, art, mountain vistas. And for me, old churches, Santa Fe, has some beautiful and historic ones.

I have mentioned, in previous posts, the New York Times feature 36 Hours. This week's city of focus is Santa Fe, and below are the spots they especially liked in their weekend visit.

• New Mexico History Museum ........................ Museum
• Canyon Road ................................................... Art
• Restaurant Martín ........................................... Restaurant
• Eldorado Hotel / Inn of the Anasazi ............... Hotels
• Santa Fe Farmers’ Market .............................. Farmers Market
• Vinaigrette ....................................................... Restaurant
• Mellow Velo .................................................... Bicycle rental. Maps.
• La Boca ........................................................... Restaurant
• Milagro 139 ..................................................... Entertainment
• San Marcos Café ............................................. Breakfast
• Jackalope ......................................................... Shopping
• Zocalo .............................................................. Homes

For the story, complete list, and descriptions go here: New York Times, 36 Hours in Santa Fe.

The Weather.

I have always been a bit puzzled by our fascination with the weather.

By "our," I mean the average American living in or near a large city, and not the farmer who depends on the right weather conditions for his livelihood. Weather to him means prosperity or poverty.

But for the rest of us: Why do a half-dozen local television stations have a weather segment in the morning, mid-day, evening, and late-evening news? Personally, my interest could be satisfied with one statement, once a day: "it's 65 in the DFW area and no precipitation expected." Or on the average summer day, "same hellish temperatures as yesterday, we'll let you know when it changes"

Who cares about the two degree difference between Dallas and Denton? How many viewers understand what a high pressure system is, or what a thirty percent chance of precipitation means?  Thirty percent of what? How dependable is the fifth day of a five day forecast? Not very, I say.

Then there is the Weather Channel itself and its "more meteorological than thou" attitude. Honestly, I hate the Weather Channel. Smug WASP bastards. They act like it is their weather, that they understand the hidden secrets of weather forecasting, and that they will dispense their wisdom to the lowly masses as an act of kindness.  Like Prometheus bringing us fire. 

And another thing. I don't like the newsman's restrained excitement when the weather is really bad, like in a hurricane. It seems to me that they are enjoying the spotlight a little too much.  And, during those extreme weather days, the channel plays one commercial after another because that's when people are watching. There's something about profiting from the demise of others that bothers me.  But the entire news business seems that way. Sharks feeding on minnows.

But enough of them.

I understand putting a temperature gauge in your backyard, or even a weather vane. I understand looking out the window to see if it's going to rain, or whether it will be cold or hot, mild or muggy.  All perfectly understandable actions to satisfy our curiosity.

"Normal May temperatures in DFW today, about 85 degrees, cloudy, but no rain expected."

What else do I need to know?

 

R J Matson

The New York Observer and Roll Call.

A (temporary) New World Order

Yesterday, my wife departed Fort Worth on a short trip to visit our son in Philadelphia.

She and I are more grandparents than parents these days, so when she is gone I am left in the house to fend for myself. I don't mind, in fact, I kind of like a few days to watch too much television, leave the potato chip bag on the coffee table, and find my books and magazines wherever it is that I had last left them.

I have a re-organizational ritual on occasions like this which, I am sure, is rooted in a male territorial instinct. Here it is:

1. I clean and reorganize the refrigerator. It doesn't need cleaning but I like to be able to easily get to the few things I want.
2. I do my laundry and stack the clean clothes on the dryer. Why bother putting them away?
3. Bathroom. I find the biggest towel I can and throw it on the floor. It's more masculine, like a locker room.
4. I put the dishes away and close up the dishwasher for the duration. No need for dishes now, I'm going to paper plates, baby.
5. Clear the kitchen counters of all bric-a-brac. Bricabrac is defined as anything that looks nice but serves no purpose and just gets in my way.
6. Pull out a roll of paper towels, place on kitchen counter. I'm feeling better already.
7. Rearrange the living room furniture to maximize comfort and to minimize extraneous movement (see photo above). The goal is for everything that is frequently needed to be at arms length of the couch. I then run through a mental checklist of the near-couch necessities:

Books -- check,
Crossword puzzles -- check,
Pens -- got 'em,
TV Remote on coffee table -- check
Wall Street Journal -- check.
Laptop on coffee table, check.
Baseball schedule and basketball playoffs for the week. AOK.

 The final step in this domicilic-bonding is to go shopping for items that I particularly like. Not that the wife doesn't keep me supplied, but I always need a few things. This time I went to my favorite store, Dollar General, and picked up the following (see picture): paper plates, bag of dry pinto beans (not sure why I bought those), jalapeno papers, cereal, lots of cereal, paper towels, albacore tuna in water, Triscuit wheat crackers.

Upon completion of all these things, I look at all that I have done, and declare, "It is good." Male order has been restored. I have re-marked my territory.

In a couple days I'll be complaining about it being too quiet, but for now, I'm ready for some serious time-wasting.

(Miss you, dear, and I will clean up before you get back. Love, Me)

Fort Worth Blogs. What's New? What's Changing?

We have a healthy list of active bloggers in Fort Worth. We have a few dropping off but many more starting. 

Following is a list of new blogs and a couple of our most prominent blogs. For a more complete list of Fort Worth sites and blogs see the column to the right: "Local Sites I like."

June Naylor. Fort Worth Star Telegram food critic, June Naylor, started a blog a few months ago and is commenting on her travels around Texas. This blog provides reviews of popular and out-of-the-way restaurants in Fort Worth and all of Texas. She promotes her Texas Toast Culinary Tours through the blog. It is well written, of course, and a great resource for Texas lovers.

FortWorthology. Still "numero uno" for building and development information in Fort Worth as well as up to date business news on restaurants. Great photos and detailed information. Kevin Buchanan is a part of the Near Southside development group that promotes the area just south of downtown, including my favorite street, Magnolia.

Eat This Fort Worth. The best blog for information on what to do in Fort Worth -- this weekend. And good reviews of area restaurants. Always up-to-date information for food lovers in Fort Worth.

Steven Wade Smith. Steve hasn't posted much lately but he does have a sidebar on his blog where he reports on what he is reading, watching, or listening to. The sidebar always has something good. Steve is a writer worth emulating.

DFW.com the food blog: The most visited food-related site in Fort Worth. DFW.com is a product of the Fort Worth Star Telegram.

Long Horn Lucy. I think she is retiring. Sorry to say. I like her posts.

Thoughts of Net Developer. Jake is not posting on his blog as much as he used to but if you follow him on Twitter (gooberdlx) you can keep up with the web, cloud computing, Apple,  assorted tech things, Drop.io -- and restaurants, pubs, etc., in Fort Worth.

Hole in the Wall -- still cranking out good restaurant reviews. One or two a month. Unless I'm mistaken Hole in the Wall hasn't posted in about a month.

The Ravelled Sleave. A frequent commenter on F&FW. A good blogger and a devoted knitter.

Food and Fort Worth: Drivel -- don't waste your time.

New to me:

Just Me Saying. I like this blog. Easy to read and informative. Food, tech, Fort Worth.

Doohickie. Fort Worth guy writing about life in Fort Worth, especially bicycling.

Horsebits. This one is hard to put in a category but I have been going there often since I found it. Very bright guy, written in a stream-of-consciousness type way with lots of interesting links. Book reviews, business practices. One of my favorites.

Jack Bauer. A Man of Constant Sorrows.

"Odysseus slept. And lightly the ship sped on, bearing that man who had suffered so much sorrow of heart in passing through wars of men and through troublous seas--the ship sped on." The Odyssey by Homer.

Once again, Jack Bauer has been rejected by everyone around him in the final hours of his 24 hour assignment. Even the President of the United States has tried to arrest him. And Chloe. Although we knew that couldn't last. Now she has been replaced as CTU Director by an evil henchman of President Logan and, I feel certain, will find a way back to Jack's team.

And another love interest is dead. Renee. Not my favorite character in many ways, but I have to admit I was sorry to see her go. Jack seems to like the muscular but well endowed types. All a little too androgynous for me. But I have never been attracted to girls who can beat me in an arm wrestle. Be that as it may, Renee is dead. As are all the girls with whom Jack has been romantically involved. Jack is a male black widow. First bed, then dead. It's a tragic formula.

Jack being the self-conscious man that he is, blames himself for the pain he has brought to his friends, and rightly so. SWM seeks SWF. Former love-interests: Teri Bauer, Nina Myers, Audrey Raines, Renee Walker. All dead or whereabouts unknown.

But I love Jack, he follows in the great tradition of sad and reluctant heroes, from the ancient Odysseus to our modern day Spiderman. Something in us likes our heroes to suffer.

All Jack Bauer wants is to return to his daughter, to find a woman to love and who can stay alive more than one year, and for justice to rule the earth. Not too much to ask. But I doubt he will get any of the above. He will not walk off into the sunset at the end of the series. He will have succeeded in saving the world but he will be alone at the end. There are unforeseeable twists to come; maybe his first wife is still alive, maybe Dalia Hassan was motivated by revenge and plotted her husband's death, maybe Tony's still alive. Who knows, but the surprises are not over.

Which reminds me that there is another Jack in TV Land whose plot has twisted one too many times for me, and that Jack, albeit a man of sorrows as well, whines too much to be a really cool hero -- and I have abandoned any hope of understanding "alto" world. I am referring, of course, to LOST.

But I get 24's Jack Bauer. And it's been fun.
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Post Scripts

1. Heroes in TV and Movie frequently have names that begin with a "J". Jack being the most frequent. See an old post: Jack Bauer's Man-Purse
2. My thanks to Schuyler Whately, from whom I first heard the phrase "a man of constant sorrows" in reference to Jack Bauer. The phrase comes from song lyrics of Dick Burnett, circa 1913, and was made popular in the movie, Oh Brother Where art Thou. I believe the earliest origin of the phrase is from the Book of Isaiah: He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Oxford, England Summer Studies 2010

Seminars on lyric poetry and lectures on C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, 

English history and architecture

Each year the College of St. Thomas More in Fort Worth, Texas invites students, associates, friends of the College, and entering freshman to travel to England to participate in seminars, lectures, and tours given by Tutors of the College in the unique environment of the university city of Oxford. The program gives participants an opportunity to immerse themselves in this historic place and introduces them to the enduring tradition of English-speaking arts and letters begun in Oxford in the twelfth century.

The group will stay at St. Benet’s Hall, a Permanent Private Hall of the University of Oxford located in the center of Oxford on the beautiful, tree-lined street of St. Giles.

Participants take an intensive three-credit course in Lyric Poetry, meeting in the mornings, and attend occasional lectures on important places, dates, and people from English history. Some afternoons are reserved for tours and excursions, with day-trips to London and Canterbury. The cost of the program for students and prospective students is $1350, for non-students, $2350, and includes course tuition, room accommodations, and daily breakfast. Participants are responsible for airfare, bus and train fares, lunch and dinner, and museum fees.

The deadline for registration is June 1. Space is limited. Register now.

For more information or to register for the program, please call Stephen Shivone in the College office at 817-923-8459 or write to him at sshivone@cstm.edu.

Audit or earn three-hours of college credit. Some scholarships available.

Oxford Summer Studies / July 12-25, 2010
817-923-8459
sshivone@cstm.edu
www.cstm.edu

Impunity. With or Without?

 "That capering buffoon shall not escape with impunity

though he were favoured by the whole human race . . . " 

Don Quixote

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I have lived most of my adult life wondering if I'll ever get to use the word notwithstanding in daily conversation. Just once I would like to say, "that notwithstanding, I think . . ."

There is another word I admire from a distance and that is the word impunity.

It's best understood breaking up the syllables and their Latin origins. Im is a Latin prefix denoting the absence of and the syllable punity from the Latin punire meaning to punish. So, impunity means the absence of consequences or punishment.

Even in the appropriate setting, when someone or something is wrongly going unpunished, I always want to say "without impunity," instead of  the correct "with impunity." Probably, because it would be correct to say "without punishment."  

There may be a proper use of the phrase without impunity but I am certain I will never understand the proper use of this double negative.  There are things I just can't wrap my mind around. Like the space/time continuum in the movie Back to the Future when they go back in time and then come forward to the present and the person that went back into the past is watching the person in the present.

Young Tomato Plants with Patron

 

This is a poor excuse for a horticultural picture, especially compared to a couple other blogs I visit, but I like my tomato plants, so here you go. The good Saint Francis asked if I would crop him out of the photo but I didn't.

Refrigerator Magnets.

On the side of my refrigerator are no less than twenty promotional magnets, only one or two of which serves any present purpose. They may have served some purpose in the past, even if a minor one, but no one seems to think that a purposeless refrigerator magnet should be discarded, including me. Actually, I think I'm the one that makes sure they don't get thrown out. Well, at least that's true for six of them, anyway.

They are the six large Texas Rangers baseball-schedule magnets, starting with year 1997, each received on opening day of a baseball season. Those magnets represent about 20 years of going to Rangers games with my wife and children, and as they say, "them were good times."

Also, not to be discarded is a magnet with a family picture of an old and close friend. He's a missionary and it's a way for him to ask for prayer and other support when we can.

But I have magnets for several people no longer in business, an insurance agent and a plumber. I have a magnet for important Verizon telephone numbers. I don't have any Verizon accounts, though.  I have a magnet to remind me to buy my printer toner from a place called Inksell. I don't know if I have ever done it. I have a magnet from the Dallas Morning News, a newspaper to which I no longer subscribe -- as of at least ten years ago. A "Trains Galore" magnet. I have no idea what that is. And one for the Trinity Railway Express. You get the idea.

They're not really hurting anything but I wonder if a stranger walking into the house thinks, "why do they have so many magnets on the side of the refrigerator?"

To which I have no answer. Maybe you do.

Throwing Things Out.

I was looking for a pair of black socks this morning. I found two that seemed to match and noticed one had a hole in the heel. I threw it back into the sock pile and fished out another. Same thing, but the hole was in the ankle area. I threw it back in. I could have tossed them both in the trash but I didn't. You never know when you need an old sock with a hole in it.

I have pens that don't work. I know they don't work and will never work.

Keys? Dozens that have no keyhole that I know of.  I have shirts that I haven't worn in years. I have had shirts in my closet so un-used that a  film of dust gathered on the shoulder.

I know what you're thinking -- that I have a "hoarding" problem. I don't. I watched an episode of one of those hoarder reality shows and they take pack-ratting to a level I can't understand. I have my clean-out binges where I am merciless. Honest. I did watch one show where the lady was keeping empty bottles of shampoo on the ledge of her bathtub. Dozens of plastic bottles -- empty, just sitting there. And then she started crying when the guy told her she had to throw them out. It was all a little too weird for me.

Part of the problem is that the homo sapien is a collector by nature. I'll bet you collect something even if it is in a casual kind of way. Stamps, coins, books, beer bottles, anything with a dolphin on it. Something. You name it in this material world and somebody is collecting it. People just love to collect stuff.

The truth is, I don't mind throwing things out. Except shoes. I hate to throw out old shoes. They're like old friends, you just like them for all kinds of unknown reasons.

Now . . . socks should be another thing. But my throw-backs are still there, and probably will be for a long time.

(comments on anything you keep, but shouldn't, gladly accepted)