Day 268: Musical luck

There are some advantages to having been around a while. As I listen to the great Ryan Adams sing "Burning Photographs" I remember some of the great concerts I've been able to see.

I saw Ryan Adams in a tiny club in Dallas before he became "RYAN ADAMS." He was fronting a decent little band called Whiskeytown.

I saw The Clash on their "Combat Rock" tour at a bowling alley in Dallas. 1982. A day before they recorded their video for "Rock the Casbah" in Austin.

I saw ZZ Top in a hall that held about 1,200. Wintergarden Ballroom in Dallas.

I saw the Stones on a rainy Halloween day in 1981 at the Cotton Bowl.

I've seen Neil Young four times. Not often enough.

I've seen the Jacket three times now. The first was in a little club and I was on the front row.

I saw The Eagles on their Hotel California tour on 7-7-77. Some unknown named Jimmy Buffett opened for them.

I saw the Allman Brothers in August 1974, at the first concert held in Texas Stadium. The Marshall Tucker Band and Joe Walsh opened.

My first concert was Steely Dan opening for Elton John on his Goodbye Yellow Brick Road tour. August 1973 in the Cotton Bowl.

I saw the Who, with Stevie Ray Vaughan opening. Also at the Cotton Bowl.

I saw U2 four times, starting with their unforgettable fire tour. One of the best was when they played Texas Stadium with openers Bjork (fronting the Sugarcubes), and Public Enemy.

Who've you seen?

Day 266: Unanswerable

Penn came to stay for a while on Tuesday. The Humane Society will have a pet adoption event from 1-4 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 11 at Petsmart in Fayetteville, AR.

Look at that face.

I know that a lot of pet people assign human emotions to animals. What I don't know is how much of that is imagined, and how much of it is real. I can say with confidence I've seen animals display characteristics that would indicate happiness, anger, sadness, shame, love...

Penn was abandoned... dumped on the side of a road. It's a miracle that he survived long enough to make it to the HS folks. If this winter had been like last winter, he probably would not have survived.

Which would be a shame, because he seems like he will be a great dog. He's smart. He's already close to mastering crate training and some basic commands such as "sit" and "stay." He is comfortable in a crate, and almost completely housebroken.

Yet some hellbound jerk ditched him alongside the road like a piece of garbage.

Look at that face. This picture was taken after about 10 hours at home with Penn the penguin. I've seen it a few times since. He has already grown attached to us. He has already found a favorite place on the couch... he wants to get so close to you as to be welded together. I saw that look on his face and thought about how tough his life had been in these few short months. He's had to fend for himself. He's a tiny little guy but growing. He's got some toughness -- he had to or he'd be dead -- but at heart he responds extraordinarily to attention and love. He wants to please.

When I took this picture I felt like his eyes were pleading with me to show him something positive, something good about people. Because most of the people in this guy's life have been unworthy. I don't want to disappoint him.

Someone once said we should aspire to be the person our dog thinks we are. A good goal. I want Penn to know that he's worthy of being loved. That shouldn't be that hard, because he's a sweet little dog.

M said something last night that was spot on: In a way, it's a good thing that Penn was dumped. Because the terrible person that did that has no business owning any animal, much less one as wonderful as this little guy.

Day 263: Snarkless

I woke up today determined to go snark-free this week.

Being a wiseacre is kind of my thing, but sometimes it just gets old. I've been trained to believe the cynicism and skepticism are quite useful tools. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a healthy questioning of the status quo: if you're not probing ways to make things better, then you might as well be dirt-napping.

But we live in an age of unrelenting carping and smart-assery, and it's just exhausting.

Now, I don't encourage the pendulum swinging too far in the other direction. If I have to choose between living in Snarkville or Pleasantville, I'll take Snarkville. It's more realistic. (Snark-related: "A pessimist is an optimist with experience.") Some people want everything filtered through rose-colored glasses, and a pig in a bowtie is still a pig. Snark is often honest with a dose of sarcasm. I think it's dangerous to look at our world and expect things to get better merely by having a positive attitude. You can't wish away the crap.

Where snark wears out its welcome is when it's just bitching about a problem with no solution proffered. I learned a while back that it's perfectly acceptable to complain about a work process or life situation, provided you've got some modifications in mind. If you rant about something and walk away, you're a crank. If you rant about something and produce possible course corrections, you're a person of action.

I hate not having a job. Lately I've had vivid dreams that are all "problem scenarios" and the entire dream consists of some Sisyphian task that can't be solved. Last night, I was trying to fix a customer problem that involved his credit card number. The card just wouldn't work, no matter how I tried to enter the numbers, call support, etc. That was the dream... endless entry of card numbers, never succeeding. Earlier this week I was in a building (that reminded me of the David Glass Technology Center) that I couldn't find a way out of... just this massive, cold, monolith with no readily discernible points of ingress and egress. Another recent dream involved a lengthy plane ride, followed by a lengthy cab ride, followed by arriving at another giant industrial building just long enough to sign my name once, followed by exiting the building, hailing a cab, and returning to the airport to fly home.

A little stressful. But I'm working on solutions. You have to try and put yourself in positive-aura situations. And so I'm taking a little snark break this week.

I announced this earlier, and scalawag Zak responded: "Screw you." So fortunately I'll have snark just a click away if I need it.

Day 262: Superb Owl

I wish I had been the one to come up with that...

So there's a big football game today. Naturally I will be watching, since it's the last one until February.

The first one I remember watching was SB IV between the Minnesota Vikings and the Kansas City Chiefs. I was 10. Since my two favorite teams were the Dallas Cowboys and the Oakland Raiders, I couldn't root for the Chiefs (a team that had abandoned Dallas for KC years earlier, and the Raiders' top divisional rival). The Vikings lost, a post-season tradition.

The next year Dallas made it, and lost in heartbreaking fashion to the Baltimore Colts. I had a poster of Dallas QB Craig Morton on my wall. After the devastating loss, in tears and bitter about Morton's three interceptions (two of which ended Dallas' last two possessions and set up the Colts' winning field goal with five seconds left in the game), I removed his poster from my bedroom wall.

My Cowboys finally won it all the next year, with my childhood hero, Bob Lilly (I wore his number in high school) making one of the game's biggest plays, sacking the Dolphins quarterback for a 29-yard loss. I have a picture of a group of neighborhood kids getting an autograph from Roger Staubach at Love Field before the Cowboys boarded the plane to go to New Orleans.

The 1972 Superb Owl I remember because it featured the hated Redskins losing to the only team to run the table in a season. The Dolphins won again in 1973. That game was played in Houston but I don't remember much of it because I had met my first "girlfriend" (i.e., the first girl who let me kiss her). I should have learned a valuable lesson then: the Superb Owl is much more important than a girl.

The next game was the Steelers' first win, a 16-6 snore over the hapless Vikes. That game featured a 2-0 halftime score.

The 1975 SB pitted the Steelers and my Boys. This game started my hate of the Steelers, who won with some ridiculous catches by Lynn Swann. The Cowboys had gotten to the big game that year via the first "Hail Mary" play (knocking off the top-seeded Vikes) and blowing out the Rams. We were so excited we went to Love Field to greet the plane as it returned from LA. Hundreds of fans were there. It was kind of nuts.

Oakland got their first title next season (beating the Vikes... I see a pattern here). I don't remember their SB win (behind coach John Madden) as much as I remember an epic playoff win over Pittsburgh to get there.

Dallas got their second of five Lombardis the next season, behind rookie RB Tony Dorsett. The blowout of the Broncos was facilitated by FOUR interceptions of their QB... some loser named Craig Morton. I should have put his poster back up for that one. I was a freshman in college and watched the game in a darkened dorm lounge with a bunch of other people.

The next year I had a TV and watched in my dorm room as the dreaded Steel Curtain got lucky against my Boys. Two words: Jackie Smith.

The Steelers won another one next year against the Rams. The Rams had knocked Dallas out in Staubach's last game. Mixed emotions. With four trophies, I was sick of Pittsburgh.

The next three SBs were also tough to take... each NFC representative (Philly, SF and Washington) beat Dallas in the NFC championship to get there. SF got there via "The Catch." I recently watched a replay of that game and it was like trauma therapy... SF would go on to be another team that became reviled as a matter of course from being a Cowboys fan.

I watched the Niners beat Cincy at the home of the Williams brothers, Jeff and Al.

The next six SBs were all blowouts, terrible games. After the 1988 season the Niners beat the Bengals on a last-minute, field-long TD drive that was a great finish, but the game was a bore prior to that (3-3 at the half). Plus, bombastic Dick Enberg and blowhard Merlin Olsen called the game. Yecch. I remember this game only for the ending and a ghastly injury to Tim Krumrie.

The next SB also sucked: Sf beat Denver 55-10.

The four following SBs were all Buffalo losses. Only the first one, Wide Right, was close. Dallas was back and won the last two, so that was pretty enjoyable. Dallas finally got revenge on Pittsburgh two years after that.

The Owls in the last decade have been fairly entertaining; all of the New England games have been memorable. Their first win, I won a hundy betting on them... they were huge underdogs. Their win over Carolina was an entertaining game and featured the wardrobe malfunction at halftime. They beat the Eagles once, which was excellent, and their loss to the Giants was the Helmet Catch game that ruined the Pats' bid to go 19-0.

Today the Pats have a chance to get some revenge. I'll be watching.

Day 260: Belief

Growing up, we were a dog family, but our dogs weren't housedogs. As a result, the idea of dogs in the house (except in extreme weather conditions) was a nonstarter.

That changed with Moose.

Moose is now 5 years old. The only way we could have a dog was to have him in the apartment, since we didn't own our home and didn't have a contained yard for him.

The experience has deepened my appreciation for dogs. I've posted many times and in many places about the positive effect Moose has had. When Piper came along two years ago, it only enriched that experience.

This week the local Humane Society posted a picture of a pup that had been abandoned. This dog immediately struck something in me. He has a cute face and markings, and there's just something about him that tells me he'd be a great pet.

Our HSO (and probably yours) always needs more pet food for the animals they try and foster and place. So yesterday, we purchased a couple of small bags and some treats (total: $17.08) and took them to their offices in hopes of meeting that guy pictured. His name is Sparky, although we prefer Penn.

He's quite a catch -- a three-month old Shar Pei/Lab mix who has already mostly been crate-trained/housebroken and is your typical wiggly puppy. We're going to foster him for a few days and see how it goes. I admit it: I'm smitten.

Now, the rational side of me says: We've got two dogs. It costs money to have pets, and I don't have an income right now. We've managed our money well, and M has a good job, so we're OK... not behind on any payments, still some money in savings, no debt. Our landlord is a little iffy on pets, we had to coerce him a little. We're responsible pet parents... they don't damage the apartment, and we clean up after them. They're not barky or aggressive in any way. But a third dog might not go over well. The bed gets crowded at night with 100 pounds of dog, and this new one might add another 50 by the time he's grown.

There's lots of arguments against another dog, and not a ton for.

Except for what my friend Kevin said the other day: dogs make you happy.

And he's (as usual) completely right. These guys have added a lot to my life. Right now they just came upstairs and are shuffling around. Just taking a sniff. It's nice.

The question has become, do we do what is the conservative, most predictable approach, or do we save a dog that was abandoned by his previous owner? And in the process, do we add something fun and pleasant into life? Sure, it costs a little more when money is tight. For some people, pets are an accessory. For us, they're family.

Another friend had the same situation with her cats. Erin said when she met them, she knew immediately. How do you turn your back on this simple affirmation of life?

I'm not sure how this will play out. But I believe that ultimately, you can't let your difficult times rule your life. You should live life on your own terms and if happiness is available, you should accept.

Day 258: Futures

A shadow has been cast across Gawd's Country this morning, all because of a tall kid in high school...

Everyone here has been breathlessly following the exploits and machinations behind Hometown U's pursuit of football hotshot Dorial Green-Beckham. The 6-6, 220-pound receiver from Springfield, Mo., is the top-rated WR (and No. 3 prospect overall). Hometown U lusted after him, as did his homestate school, and big names like Alabama, Oklahoma and Texas. Just a few days ago, Hometown U. was considered probably the place he would choose to play, although Mizzou was making a late charge.

Half an hour ago, he chose Mizzou.

The backstory on this kid, who has been adopted by his white foster parents, is very Michael Oher (the kid in "The Blind Side" and now a pro with the Baltimore Ravens). He's had a tough early childhood, but football and his new home have given him some stability and security.

Against that backdrop, it's probably not that surprising that he chose a school close to home. As a football move, it's terrible. If DGB has aspirations of a pro career, they didn't grow that much today. He'd have a better fit in an offense that could showcase his considerable talent -- Hometown U might have been the best fit in the short-term, Oklahoma was also a good fit, and at Alabama, he'd have his name splashed across TV sets a dozen times or more a year.

Hometown U fans are almost beside themselves in missing out on this kid. He's a puzzle piece that was tailor-made for their title hopes in 2012.

But here's the thing Hometown U fans just don't get: It's not about them. No matter how bad they want it, just because they do does not mean a damned thing. The Hometown U fans kind of need to get a life. It's not that big a deal if a kid goes elsewhere. In DGB's case, the best choice for him as an athlete was probably to go to Alabama. The competition there is the best. The team is the standard of excellence. The coaching would prepare him as well as anywhere for a pro career. The football choice is not Hometown U.

Nor is it Missouri. If this was a business decision, DGB would be wearing red next season.

It's not necessarily an education decision, either. Any of those universities could have served this kid's needs. If he's bright enough, I'm pretty sure that he could have been offered a free ride at Stanford.

In the end, it appears that DGB's choice was made significantly because he felt safe close to home. He won't be winning any championships, but he will feel more at peace mentally. Given what the kid's gone through, can anyone blame him?

As a Hometown U alum and follower, I'd have loved to see the kid starring here this year. He'd have been a sensation. A lot of people here are rending their garments and gnashing their teeth at the news that DGB is going elsewhere.

Instead, the best move is to wish the kid the best of luck. Well, that, and be glad he at least didn't sign with Alabama.

Day 251: Views

I was born in West Texas and worked there for 19 months in the early 80s.

There's a stark beauty to that part of the world. The flatness of the terrain makes the sky seem enormous. But on balance I don't care for it.

I think it's important to get some feedback from your natural surroundings. It's one reason that I'm drawn to settings that have a view. You need inspiration.

This small upstairs corner room has two windows. The one behind this computer screen faces north and looks uphill. The adjacent home is very nice, it has a sort of "Italian villa" style to it that is appealing. The entire homestead sits on a lot of at least an acre. Were it not for the looseness with which the owners regard their responsibilities regarding their four dogs, it'd be almost idyllic. The house across the street from them is a majestic mansion that has been under restoration for well more than a year. It's a nice 'hood.

The window to my left faces west. With the leaves gone for winter it provides a great view of the dominant original building on campus. Looking south you can see the rolling mountains unfold... on clear days like today the visibility must be at least five miles.

I've been able to find some pretty nice views over the years. My favorite was probably California... I could see the ocean from three rooms. The first night I slept there I was awakened by the sound of waves, at first not knowing what they were.

A friend posted recently a picture of the view from his place in the upper midwest. It looked like Minsk. Or Sarnia. Not awesome. I need the stimulation that a good location provides.

The first time I ever went to Montreal I was stunned when I saw a homeless person who had notched a place out of the snow near a less wind-exposed nook at the Bell Centre. It was even more shocking than seeing the hundreds of people living in cardboard boxes on Skid Row in LA. Or the guys sleeping on benches in Santa Monica.

It gets pretty chilly in LA, but I think if I was a homeless guy living in a snowbank in Canada, I might be tempted to start walking west. Even the homeless can have a view.