Dem Victory Prompts Rumsfeld Resignation

In a perfect world, Donald Rumsfeld would be perp-marched on live TV from the Pentagon into the cargo hold of a plane and taken to The Hague pending trial for war crimes, but seeing that henny penny scourge on humanity resign in disgrace less than 24 hours after the Democrats take Congress is good enough for now. Let’s see what the Aggie can do.

Things Have Changed

That was one heck of an election last night.

1. The Democrats convincingly captured the House
2. The Democrats appear poised to capture the Senate when all the votes are counted in Virginia
3. South Dakota voted down its draconian abortion ban
4. Arizona (of all places) voted down a gay marriage ban – the first state to do so
5. Missouri passed a stem cell research initiative
6. Rick Santorum and Katherine Harris crashed and burned like photogenic air show disasters
7. All seven of Austin’s bond issues passed
8. Democrat Nick Lampson picked up Tom DeLay’s old seat
9. New York Democrat John Hall, who wrote perennial 70s faves “Still the One” and “Dance with Me,” is now a U.S. Congressman
10. Former Texas Republican state legislator Rick Green was charged with assault after starting a fight at Sunset Canyon Baptist Church with current Democratic state legislator Patrick Rose

George Bush is president for two more years, but his cheese is now flailing in the wind. I’m not naïve or optimistic enough to think last night fixed a whole lot of what’s wrong with this country, but at least we have a barrier in place now against the Bush regime’s pursuit of the neo-conservative agenda. Now our spoiled little leader will actually face some push-back for trying to privatize Social Security or start another war under false pretenses. Whether the Dems pick up the Senate or not, that body will remain closely divided and will have a hard time overriding a presidential veto. Still, a larger-than-expected win in the House is a big step in the right direction.

Vote, Dammit!

If you haven't already voted, be sure to get out and vote tomorrow. Don't let long lines, a little rain or a poll observer in a Brooks Brothers suit make you forget what's at stake right now.

Here in Texas, it looks like our Christ-baiting incumbent governor will coast to victory with less than 40 percent of the vote. Since Chris Bell has the best chance of the three spoilers of defeating Rick Perry by most accounts, that's who I voted for.

Despite getting only a fraction of the media coverage given to Kinky and One Tough Grandma, Bell gained a surprising amount of traction this fall while Grandma stalled out (despite premature teacher and state employee union endorsements) and Kinky's once-hopeful candidacy degenerated into a sideshow of tired quips and stupid gaffes.

As much as I detest the two-party system, after what happened in 2000 with Ralph Nader, I think it's better to try and slow the bleeding with an imperfect Democrat than vote for someone who has no chance in hell of winning. A "protest vote" is a self-indulgence I can't afford anymore.

Chicken Fried Birthday

In honor of having slipped softly off the coil of my mid-30s today, Kate and I met my folks in Round Top for lunch. I'd been having a hankering for good fried chicken and it just so happened that Royer's Round Top Cafe was having a Sunday chicken dinner special.

We each got four pieces of chicken, mashed potatoes and creamed corn. The corn would've been replaced by green beans if I ran the show, but the buttermilk and garlic-battered chicken was both crispy and succulent in all the right places. Then we had apple pie a la mode for dessert. You can't have a much more American birthday than that.

I don't eat fried chicken all that often because it's not healthy and I'm almost always disappointed by it. Popeye's is okay for a chain store, but I've yet to find a really good down-home fried chicken dinner anywhere near Austin. Does anyone out there know if such a place exists outside of my extra-crispy dreams?

A Bird in the Bush Gets Bus Driver Fired

When I first heard about the middle school bus driver who was fired for flipping off President Bush in Seattle last June, my initial reaction was to begrudgingly side with the school district. Even though being flipped off is the least of what Bush deserves, it’s inappropriate for a school employee to make such a gesture in front of students. Now, though, we have Rep. Dave Reichert (R-WA) taking credit for the bus driver's termination at a GOP rally on August 12.

As the motorcade went by the President and I drove by on I-5. The President was having a great time. He was waving at everybody. And waving at the kids he got the biggest kick out of the kids leaning out the window to say hello to the President of the United States. The sad part of it is, though, we got to the last bus...the bus driver flipped the President off (loud boos). So the very next day, you know what I did? I called the superintendent of that school district. And that bus driver no longer works for that school (loud cheers). That's the old sheriff part of me still around.

Up until the tape surfaced, Reichert and the school district both denied that he had anything to do with the firing. No word yet on how they’re going to reconcile the conflicting accounts. Regardless of what really happened, Reichert either wielded his political influence to get a school bus driver fired or falsely took credit for the firing to boost his image for the red-meat crowd, which makes him an all-around horse dick no matter how you slice it.

Rent Boy Alleges Fling with Pastor Ted

Pastor Ted Haggard of the 14,000-member New Life Church in Colorado Springs resigned leadership of the National Association of Evangelicals today because of his alleged ongoing patronage of a male prostitute.

While Haggard denies the allegations, it would be strange for him to resign if there was nothing to the claims made to the Denver Post by former prostitute Mike Jones.

You may remember Haggard from the movie Jesus Camp. While Haggard had enough public relations sense to avoid asking children if they were ready to "die for Jesus" like the sweet-heartedly insane Pastor Becky Fischer, the fact that he has (or had) a standing weekly phone call with the President of the United States ought to scare the unholy crap out of anyone who doesn't want to live in an iron-booted theocracy.

If I was the down-low pastor of a browbeating evangelical congregation whose apparent life-or-death issue is keeping the gay folks from getting married, I think it would be wise to avoid sleeping with the same male prostitute over and over again. Sooner or later, you're bound to leave some tracks. If Ted did have a thing going on with Mr. Jones, I'll bet he now wishes he would've settled for getting sucked off through glory holes.

While I sympathize with good people who struggle with sexual identity, leaders of the religious right who sublimate their homosexual tendencies with gay-bashing sermons and legislation deserve no quarter whatsoever. May they all be exposed for the hateful hypocrites they are.

Bob Barker Retiring from "The Price is Right"

If you haven’t made it out to CBS Television City in Hollywood to see a live taping of The Price is Right with Bob Barker, time is running out.

The 83-year-old host announced Tuesday that he will be be retiring in June 2007 after 35 years of hosting the popular price-guessing show. Once Barker steps down, unbridled American consumerism will never be celebrated so unironically ever again.

Even worse, calling in sick will never be as much fun and our nation’s unwanted pet population is sure to spiral out of control.

The Horrors of Ron Titter

Don't forget to wash that candy down with beer at tonight's Ron Titter Band Halloween extravaganza at Hole in the Wall. We'll be playing 'round midnight, the Meshbanes play at 11pm and former Shindig Melissa Bryan starts us off at 10pm.

Pre-Halloweekend

My former roommate Kevin Fullerton blew into town from Seattle on Friday with his pal Kelly in tow. After Kate and I met them at the airport, we headed for Trudy’s North Star for margaritas and migas. Trudy’s keeps their kitchen open until 2am on Friday and Saturday, which makes it the natural go-to sit-down eatery within stumbling distance of my house. Eating migas at midnight made me feel like I was in Las Vegas.

Saturday was spent gathering costume elements for the evening’s festivities from Goodwill and Savers. I settled in on a convict Elvis look and Kevin went as a Hot Wheels car. Kate made for an alluringly naughty Catholic schoolgirl and Kelly donned green hair to become the Chicken of the Sea. We made it to two parties and briefly stopped by the Victory Grill to see the Darling New Neighbors and the Unbearables performing as the Zombie Rock Orchestra. Sadly, the Neighbors finished before we arrived, but the Unbearables proved to be a toe-tapping closet pop delight. We were thoroughly enjoying the show until someone started up a smoke machine that smelled like a pee-filled vaporizer.

We drove out to Blanco on Sunday and gorged ourselves at Riley’s BBQ on the town square. I never see Riley’s in lists of best barbecue places, but Kevin and I have always had really good brisket there. The all-you-can-eat beans are a nice touch so long as you don’t mind driving back to Austin with the windows down.

On the southeast side of the town square, there is a paved path to the Blanco River that gets you into Blanco State Park without having to pay admission. The path goes right by the second largest live oak tree in Blanco County. We decided to climb the tree, demonstrating a complete lack of faith in my body’s ability to avoid falling. I was quite visibly petrified and I didn’t even get that far up in the tree. By contrast, Kevin scampered up the 400-year-old trunk like a monkey. I always was kind of an indoor kid.

We walked down to the river as the sun began to recede behind the treeline. It had been a picture-perfect day weather-wise and we couldn’t resist having a go on the swings. Everyone should swing from time to time. It keeps you young at soul if not heart. We finally had to abandon the swings when some actual children showed up.

The Harlem Globetrotters Popcorn Machine

This short-lived Saturday morning live action show aired on CBS in the mid-Seventies. The Seventies were the only decade in which anyone could've pitched a show called "The Harlem Globetrotters Popcorn Machine" with a straight face.

Harlem Globetrotter legends like Curly Neal, Meadowlark Lemon, Geese Ausbie and Marquis Hayes appear in the opening credits. Jack in the Box commercial star Rodney Allen Rippy also shows up here.

Crack That Shell

For the sand castle kicker in all of us, here’s your best chance to destroy an office building without being branded a terrorist.

At the ass end of the Nineties high-tech explosion, Intel began building a 10-story chip design center after extracting $10.6 million in incentives from Austin taxpayers. Two years later, the company halted construction and backed out of the deal, leaving an unfinished husk of concrete for all of us to enjoy. After years of negotiations, the much-loathed “Intel shell” at Fifth and Nueces will finally be brought down this fall to make way for Austin’s new federal courthouse.

The Austin Parks Foundation is now selling $10 raffle tickets to destroy the Intel building. One lucky winner gets to set off the implosion, wrecking ball, jackhammer or other means of destruction that wipes the Intel shell out of existence forever.

The winner will also be rewarded with the knowledge that the raffle helps fund improvements to nearby Republic Square Park, but that pales in comparison to the genital-engorging thanatotic fervor of demolishing a hideous symbol of corporate folly.

Boo, It's Titterween!

If you want to rock out on Halloween night without having to deal with the hassle of downtown Austin, come on down to the Hole in the Wall to see The Ron Titter Band (12am), The Meshbanes (11pm) and an extra super-special mystery opening band that will be named shortly.

Best of all, there's no cover and plenty of free stares for all the girls dressed up as sexy nurses, sexy maids, sexy cops, sexy bus drivers and sexy sexy costume vendors.

10 Stupid Things I Did While Living in Jester Center

1. Drank a half-gallon jug’s worth of screwdrivers, kicked the metal casing off a drinking fountain and urinated in an elevator while returning to my 12th floor room, where I passed out kneeling against my bed in a puddle of vomit.

2. Invited my hall mates to watch me create flash fires with non-dairy creamer in the stairwell, which led to me being a prime suspect when AFD had to roll several fire trucks to Jester because a different idiot set fire to a towel in said stairwell (fortunately I was out of town that weekend).

3. Didn’t lock the door to my dorm room after returning home from a Butthole Surfers show, which resulted in a very drunk unidentified male coming into our room at 3am and climbing into bed with my roommate, where he promptly pissed himself.

4. Smeared the remnants of my 19th birthday cake all over the elevator lobby in a fit of drunken pique.

5. Ate French fries at lunch and dinner every day for two years.

6. Went out of my way to convince my born-again resident advisor that I worshipped Satan shortly after a UT student on spring break was found murdered outside Matamoros by a drug-trafficking cult of Santeria enthusiasts.

7. Smashed a tennis racquet against my suitemates’ bathroom door after they propped a cup of water against my door and knocked, which sent water spilling into my room.

8. Hosted a pretend radio show on KTRD, “Turd 98 FM,” on an alarmingly regular basis until UT’s student radio station gave me a real show.

9. Incurred a constant stream of noise complaints by playing loud music and singing along at the top of my lungs.

10. Tried dipping Copenhagen at my roommate’s insistence, went zooming for about 30 seconds, vomited without honor.

Back to School

Kate had a fencing tournament at UT’s Recreational Sports Center on Saturday. I hadn’t been to the Rec Center since 1990 when I was writing a story about its impending grand opening for UT’s alumni magazine. Between graduate school, playing the punk rock and slapping meat on bread, I didn’t have much time for recreating back then.

I’d never been to a fencing tournament, either. Once Kate gave me a brief overview of the scoring system, though, I could enjoy the matches on a rudimentary level. She won two of the three matches I saw and was pleased with her overall performance. So was I, and I’m not just saying that because she knows how to wield a foil.

I ventured over to the Jester Center Wendy’s in between Kate’s matches to grab a bite and watched some of the nail-biting UT-Nebraska game. It was fun to watch a game on campus again, and even if we would've lost, I still would've been happy to not be standing around in the snow in Lincoln.

I lived in Jester Center from 1987 through 1989. With a capacity of almost 3,000 residents, Jester is the largest dorm in North America. I never had much love for its brutal, Soviet-style ambience.

Walking through the doors, I still recognize the scent of college from two decades ago. If I had to describe it, I would say it’s a cross between dorm food and cleaning fluid. I’d know that smell anywhere.

Michael J. Fox for Claire McCaskill

This is a powerful political ad for Claire McCaskill, the Missouri Democrat trying to unseat U.S. Senator Jim Talent. I think this ad should be run against every member of Congress who opposes stem-cell research.

It's so sad to see what Parkinson's Disease has done to Michael J. Fox, but it's downright disgusting that a fascist-flavored cadre of fundamentalists is blocking research that might lead to a cure in order to violently ram their festering perversion of Christian love down all of our throats.

Friday Night Lights

Though nothing compares to H.G. Bissinger's classic 1988 book about the Permian High School Panthers of Odessa, NBC's Friday Night Lights is engaging television.

I'm not just saying that because they filmed some of it right down the street from where I work. Nor am I just saying that because Minka Kelly, the actress who plays perky, faith-driven cheerleader Lyla Garrity (the one in the middle), makes me feel inappropriate stirrings that God and Johnny Law can't do anything about because she's 26 in real life (ha!).

The pilot episode featured a hilarious cameo from UT coach Mack Brown portraying an obnoxious booster telling the coach of the fictional Dillon Panthers that you "don't need a quarterback" to win in Texas football. I'm sure that part was filmed before the Ohio State game.

I never cared much for high school football when I was actually in high school. I went to a few games in my freshman year, but that was it. Our team was lucky to rack up three wins in a season and there were plenty of other things to do besides watch football, like eating at Pancho's Mexican Buffet.

The fever associated with Friday Night Lights is largely a product of small towns and/or large suburban high schools with a decent enough tax base to build top-notch facilities and hire the best coaches. But it is most definitely a fever in large swaths of Texas, and if you want to have something to talk about with people who reside in those swaths, it doesn't hurt to keep up with who's up and who's down.

Stick Magnetic Ribbons on Your SUV

There are a lot of pathetically bad novelty anti-war songs out there right now, but this variation on Tony Orlando & Dawn's "Tie A Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree" by Austin's venerable Asylum Street Spankers is pretty goddamn hilarious, especially in tandem with their Lawrence Welk-style video.

The Guest Room

For nearly three months, the guest room of my new home sat empty and unfurnished except for the obscene amount of vinyl I've crammed in the closet.

That all changed this weekend, courtesy of my folks and my Uncle Mark. They brought an old family dresser up from Houston in Mark's truck and went one better by picking up my new guest bed. Then we all had barbecue and ice cream.

I spent Saturday night buying linens, which may be the lowest-key thing I've done on a Saturday night since 1980.

Near-North Austin Grocery Scene Report

In reading the minutes of the Allandale Neighborhood Association’s August 30th meeting, I came across some interesting information regarding the H-E-B at the corner of Burnet and Allandale. If Knight Real Estate is to be believed, H-E-B is apparently staying put on that corner and has no plans to look at the redeveloped Northcross Mall property.

Knight is the property manager for Allandale Village. H-E-B’s 50-year lease there expired two years ago, but they’re now two years into the first of four five-year lease extensions. They have no plans to renovate or expand the existing store.

Anyone who shops at this H-E-B on a regular basis knows it’s the smallest, least well-stocked and most cramped-up location in the Austin area. I typically drive the extra distance to the Far West location if I have serious shopping to do. Although a bad H-E-B is still beats a middling Randall's or Albertson's on price, the San Antonio-based chain stands to lose its neighborhood allegiance if a marginally better grocery store moves into the redeveloped Northcross Mall.

If H-E-B isn’t moving into Northcross, the only logical contender left for the proposed supercenter there is Wal-Mart. Target has a recently-remodeled store at Ohlen and Research, so I doubt it would be them.

Although hatred of Wal-Mart’s business practices and political leanings will keep a few people from shopping there, it won’t take much effort from Sam’s shock troops to pick off Allandale H-E-B customers. At that point, they’ll have no choice but to expand or wither.

Freddy Fender R.I.P.

Legendary Tex-Mex singer Freddy Fender died today in Corpus Christi at age 69. Fender had suffered from a battery of health problems in recent years. He was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer in January.

Born Baldemar Huerta in San Benito, Fender enjoyed success in the Rio Grande Valley as a regional rock and roller in the late Fifties and early Sixties. After serving three years in Louisiana's Angola State Prison for marijuana possession, he left the music business to become an auto mechanic.

Doug Sahm led a rediscovery of Fender in the mid-Seventies, bringing him to Austin's Soap Creek Saloon. Huey Meaux signed Fender and persuaded him to cut "Before the Next Teardrop Falls," which topped the pop and country charts in 1975. A new version of "Wasted Days and Wasted Nights" also topped the country charts and was a top ten pop hit.

In the Nineties, Fender, Sahm, Flaco Jimenez and Augie Meyers became the Texas Tornados, enjoying yet another round of popular success with the Tex-Mex sound. I saw them at the Texas Union Ballroom in 1992. It was a great show that was chock full of hits.

Fender's long career and wide-ranging appeal made him a natural for commercials. He will almost surely go down in history as the only man to do commercials for both the Texas Department of State Health Services (for its hepatitis C awareness campaign) and Pancho's Mexican Buffet.

Theme to TV's Hello, Larry

If you were alive in 1980 and watching NBC on a Friday night, you might remember this infectious little ditty. I love a jingle that sticks to your brain whether you want it there or not.

Hello, Larry was a short-lived and altogether awful sitcom from the Fred Silverman era. McLean Stevenson gave up a sweet gig on M.A.S.H. for this turd and his career never really recovered. Can you imagine how Stevenson must've felt when the producers told him they were bringing in Meadowlark Lemon to shore up the ratings? Kim Richards sure was foxy, though.

Cursive, Foiled Again

Today’s Washington Post asks if the rise of keyboarding equals the end of having to learn to write cursive. God, I hope so.

I never understood the point of learning to write in cursive when block printing is so much easier to read. My elementary school handwriting grades reflected this lack of understanding.

As soon as teachers no longer required me to write in cursive, I quit doing it and everyone was happier. One can only guess at how many kids have their love of writing destroyed by this excessive focus on aesthetic over content.

It’s hard enough for me to turn a thought into a sentence without having to worry about making it look pretty.

The Song is Over for Tower Records

Another day, another one-time vanguard retailer down the drain. After struggling to climb out of bankruptcy for years, Sacramento-based Tower Records will be closing all its stores and liquidating its stock.

Austin's Tower location in the former Varsity Theatre at Guadalupe and 23rd closed in 2004 after 14 years. Between the overhead of maintaining a deep catalog in a worldwide chain of stores, deep discounts offered by "big box" stores like Best Buy, Internet retailing and downloading, Tower didn't stand a chance in the long run.

There were four record stores within a block of the Drag when I moved here in 1987 - Sound Exchange, Hasting's, Discount Records and Inner Sanctum. Today there are none.

Stretford and Soles

Saturday night was fun upon fun. I started out at Waterloo Park for the Alamo Drafthouse’s free, inflatable screening of Rock ‘N’ Roll High School. The Mullens (right) came down from Dallas to play some soul-tinged garage punk to get things started.

Toward the end of the Mullens’ set, my Alamo pal Julie took me over to meet P.J. Soles, pictured here (left) introducing the movie with Kier-La Janisse and Tim League. This, my friends, was a teen-age fantasy come true 25 years after the fact, as my sheepish fanboy demeanor undoubtedly demonstrated.

Soles was really nice, indulging everyone in stories about the movie and signing my vinyl copy of the soundtrack album. You know that’s going up on the wall. I learned Soles was 28 in 1979 when she played Riff Randell (her last teen-age role) and that she and former husband Dennis Quaid had the Ramones over for Thanksgiving dinner during the breakneck, three-week shoot. She said they were very polite.

Although I’ve seen R&RHS dozens of times, seeing it in the park on a mild October evening with a crowd of fans was a whole new experience. The Ramones’ concert sequence was played extra loud and everyone cheered when Riff blew up Vince Lombardi High. My only regret is that I didn’t get a photo with Soles.

After wolfing down a couple of fajita tacos, I cruised over to the Longbranch Inn to see Stretford. What a fun show that was. I had an instant familiarity with almost every song they played, even the ones I hadn’t thought about in years. Everyone was pogoing in front of the stage and singing along like it was 1993 all over again.

One thing I’ve finally learned is that you should always bring a camera to reunion shows because you never know who you’ll run into. To wit, here’s me and trumpeter/man about town Bill Jeffries.

Trumpeter Jennings Crawford (who you may recognize from the Wannabes) was the most dapper of the altogether dapper Stretford crew. Here he is (center) looking suave with Melissa Bryan and Bonnie Spanogle.

Photographic evidence of the traditional Stretford audience sing-along can be found here, with good ‘ol Tim Stegall from the Hormones leading the charge. He's the guy with the spikey black hair and white jacket. Tim just moved back to Austin after several years in New York and Las Vegas.

Storehouse Closing Its Doors

When I was a kid, I remember going with my parents to Storehouse and shopping for contemporary home furnishings to the strains of Eumir Deodato's version of "Also Sprach Zarathurstra (Theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey)."

Storehouse opened its first location in Atlanta in 1969. During the Seventies, the company was known for sharp design at accessible prices. As their prime demographic aged, they became more upscale, but it remained a good place to buy furniture.

Sadly, 2006 will be the end of the line for Storehouse. The company began a court-ordered liquidation of its nearly 70 stores on Friday, including the one here in Austin on Burnet Road.

The good news is that you might be able to pick up a nice piece of furniture for a deep discount as the closing date draws near. Right now everything in the store is 15-30% off.

Stretford Reunites Tonight at Longbranch Inn

The vintage Nineties Austin Brit-pop-punk stalwarts of Stretford return to the stage at the Longbranch Inn this evening for a special reunion gig with fellow travelers Richard Head and the Friendly Truckers.

Stretford is the name of the Manchester suburb where bandleader Carl Normal grew up. He wrote some great pop tunes, like "Zerox Love," "It's Over Now" and "I Used to Know," to name a few. If you come across a copy of their 1996 Unclean LP, Crossing the Line, snatch it up.

I think Stretford got together in 1990 and I know they broke up in 2000. I probably saw them more than any other Austin band in the Nineties. Aside from the many bills Cheezus, Noodle and the Peenbeets shared with them, they were always one of my go-to acts for nights when I just needed to get out, drink some beer and not think about shit for a few hours.

As Stretford gradually built up a small-but-loyal following, everyone would crowd around the stage at their shows, singing along on the choruses as trumpeter/court jester Bill Jeffries worked the room into a frenzy. I'm sure a similar scene will be replicated tonight. It'll be kind of like going home again, only I won't be able to drink as much.

Crestview in the Crosshairs

Lee Nichols has a nice article in this week’s Austin Chronicle about how two redevelopments at either end of Crestview might affect the character of the North Austin neighborhood.

To the east, there’s Crestview Station, a huge Trammell Crow/Stratus Properties residential/retail/office project being built on the old Huntsman Chemical Corp. property to coincide with the light rail station at Lamar and Justin Lane. Crestview Station could increase the neighborhood population by some 60%, and not all of those people are going to be taking the train to work.

To the west, there’s the impending redevelopment of Northcross Mall, which is rumored to involve a much-disliked retailing concern from Arkansas. Lincoln Properties, the mall's Dallas-based owner, is presently staying mum on that count, which isn't doing much to quell suspicions.

Though I moved out of Crestview this summer, its evolution continues to be of concern to me since I now live just north of Crestview in Wooten. As Crestview reaches critical mass, at least some of that growth is bound to spill over Anderson Lane into Wooten.

Study Finds Pot May Stave Off Alzheimer's

This is the best news I've heard all week. A study conducted by the Scripps Research Institute finds THC, the active ingredient in marijuana, may halt the progression of Alzheimer's Disease by preserving levels of acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter that allows the brain to function.

Now where the hell did I leave my keys?

Now That's the Wright Stuff

I have something good to say about Republicans today, so listen up because this probably won’t happen again for awhile.

Last week Congress voted to gradually scale back the Wright Amendment restrictions that prohibit airlines from flying to distant states out of Dallas Love Field. President Bush is expected to sign the legislation within the next 10 days. This is good news for North Texas, a region that has paid inflated airfares on long-distance flights for years.

The revised amendment will allow airlines to sell through tickets from Love Field to anyplace in the U.S. so long as the flight makes a stop in one of the current Wright Amendment states, which are Oklahoma, New Mexico, Louisiana, Arkansas, Kansas, Missouri, Mississippi and Alabama. The amendment will be eliminated altogether in 2014, but gate restrictions at Love Field will always keep the airport from usurping D/FW Airport's role.

This compromise should keep Southwest Airlines firmly ensconced at their Love Field hub, which is good for Dallas' tax base. It may also prompt Southwest to fill in their national route map by expanding into hub airports like Memphis, Cincinnati and Minneapolis/St. Paul.

Given current population growth patterns, an increasing proportion of the Metroplex will be closer to D/FW than Love Field by 2014. All of the exploding northern suburbs like Frisco and Allen now have easy access to D/FW via the new George Bush Turnpike, too.

Although D/FW is still hurting from Delta closing its hub there last year, their anti-competitive bellyaching failed to strike a chord with anyone not directly or indirectly vested in American's massive D/FW operations. People who actually have to pay money to fly overwhelmingly supported repealing the Wright Amendment.

Rock 'N' Roll High School with P.J. Soles in Person!

Who needs Texas/OU when the Alamo Drafthouse is presenting a special free showing of Rock 'N' Roll High School this Saturday at 7pm at Waterloo Park?

As the device that introduced me to the Ramones through repeated showings on cable during the early Eighties, the Allan Arkush-directed, Roger Corman-produced RNRHS will always be one of my all-time favorite movies. I've never actually seen it on a big screen, though.

The Mullens will play Ramones songs before the show to get everyone in the mood. Even better, P.J. Soles herself will be at the screening. You may also remember Soles from supporting roles in Carrie, Halloween and Stripes. Her perfectly-pitched portrayal of juvenile delinquent and Ramones superfan Riff Randell struck a major chord in my 12-year-old heart, but who wouldn't fall for a girl who brings the Ramones to class and blows up the school?

Ron Titter's Back in Town

Fresh off a two-month hiatus, The Ron Titter Band returns to the stage this Friday night at 10pm. Actually, we won't be on a stage because we're playing at the Parlor, 110 E. North Loop Blvd., with Many Birthdays (11pm) and a special mystery guest (9pm).

Admission is gratis and the show ends by midnight, which means you can either go downtown or go home and pass out. This is a show that will set North Austin on fire, so wear clean underpants.

Sordid IM Scandal Sinks Florida's Foley

I really don't care that resigning Rep. Mark Foley (R-FL) likes to hear about how 16-year-old boys jerk off (possibly NSFW).

Sure it's unseemly, unethical and hella dumb, but it's not necessarily illegal (at least not in the District of Columbia, where 16 is the age of consent). Regardless of state-to-state laws, there's a world of difference between getting turned on by 16-year-olds and getting turned on by 10-year-olds.

If I was part of the House leadership, though, I'd probably want to make sure such a guy wasn't co-chairing the Missing and Exploited Children Caucus. That's just asking for trouble.

Amazingly, ABC News is now reporting that Rep. Tom Reynolds (R-NY) told House majority leader Dennis Hastert about Foley's indiscretions months ago. It'll be interesting to see how Hastert tries to spin his blubbery, hate-filled frame out of covering up Foley's penchant for pages.

Maybe the fact that there's a penis involved will finally make people wake up and smell the waterboard.

Well, Are We Better Than This?

The day Bush signs the so-called torture compromise bill into law will be the end of American citizenship as we know it. That’s because this oxymoronic “compromise” will make American citizens subject to being seized as enemy combatants and able to be thrown into military prison (see above).

Here's Bruce Ackerman on Thursday’s Los Angeles Times editorial page:

The compromise legislation, which is racing toward the White House, authorizes the president to seize American citizens as enemy combatants, even if they have never left the United States. And once thrown into military prison, they cannot expect a trial by their peers or any other of the normal protections of the Bill of Rights.

This dangerous compromise not only authorizes the president to seize and hold terrorists who have fought against our troops "during an armed conflict," it also allows him to seize anybody who has "purposefully and materially supported hostilities against the United States." This grants the president enormous power over citizens and legal residents. They can be designated as enemy combatants if they have contributed money to a Middle Eastern charity, and they can be held indefinitely in a military prison.

But other provisions of the bill call even this limitation into question. What is worse, if the federal courts support the president's initial detention decision, ordinary Americans would be required to defend themselves before a military tribunal without the constitutional guarantees provided in criminal trials.

Americans who worship at the phallus of brutal authoritarianism by supporting torture deserve to live in perpetual fear of terrorist attacks. If this is what the United States is sinking to under the Bush regime and his degenerate Republican enablers, then you're goddamn right I'm “purposefully and materially” against it.

Sorkin's Studio 60 So-So

I’ve been trying to get into Aaron Sorkin’s new NBC drama, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, but so far it strikes me as above-average writing and above-average acting in the service of nothing much at all. As Salon's Heather Havrilesky put it earlier this week, West Wing-style gravitas is silly when it’s applied to a drama about Saturday Night Live.

Studio 60 is supposed to be about a faltering live comedy sketch show like SNL, but the second episode lost all verisimilitude once we got to see how unfunny the fictional show was. If nothing else, Studio 60 demonstrates the difficulty of being funny while driving a prestige vehicle.

Unless you think those godawfully smug Mark Russell specials on PBS are the cat's ass, it's impossible to imagine an audience giving a standing ovation to the lame musical number that was supposed to be Studio 60's comeback cue. Are we really supposed to be that impressed at Sorkin getting the term "intellectual reach-around" past the censors?

I did like the irony of having Judd Hirsch interrupt a live sketch to deliver a Network-style rant about the rancid state of American television on the pilot episode. Hirsch’s former Taxi co-star Andy Kaufman actually did walk out of a sketch (with the producer’s blessing) on ABC’s Fridays back in 1981, but Hirsch reportedly found similar Kaufman antics on the Taxi set to be a major source of irritation.

Barbecue, Bastrop and Babies

There’s a new girl in my life these days. Her name is Kate and she’s really cool. We’ve been dating for a few months, but my tendency to be overly cagey in revealing too much about my personal life has precluded me from saying anything about it here. I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about Kate in coming posts, though.

Last weekend, Kate and I went on a day trip. We went to Lockhart for barbecue and ate at Smitty’s. For those unversed in Texas barbecue lore, Smitty’s is housed in the original location of Kreuz Market, which moved to a new location several years back because the brother (who owned the restaurant) and the sister (who owned the building) didn’t get along. Once the brother moved out, the sister opened Smitty’s.

I still haven’t eaten at the new Kreuz, but I was very pleased with the meat at Smitty’s. We ordered half a pound of brisket, a pork chop and a sausage link. The meat came without sauce and it didn’t need any. The pit area is still infernally hot, but Smitty’s dining room is much more pleasant than the old Kreuz used to be. You can even order ice cream for dessert.

After walking around Lockhart’s town square for an hour or so, we drove over to Bastrop. I drive through Bastrop on the way to Houston several times each year, but I rarely see anything other than the backlit plastic blight of the Highway 71 bypass corridor. The historic town center of Bastrop is actually quite picturesque.

We stopped off at the visitor’s center, which is housed in an old bank built in the late 1800s, and conversed with the lady running the place. A family of four featuring two adorable boys walked in as we spoke. As they left, the visitor’s center lady motioned to the boys and said to us, “Now you need to do that.”

It took us awhile for what she meant by “that” to sink in. Evidently, she meant we needed to have kids. I wasn’t offended, but I did find it peculiar that this nice lady thought it was her place to tell us such a thing.

What makes strangers think it's fine and dandy to exhort other strangers (tourists, no less) to procreate? I must say this was not what I expected when we stopped by the visitor's center.

Ye Olde Captain Smoothe Showe Photoes

The Yacht Rock/Captain Smoothe show last Tuesday at the Alamo Drafthouse was a stone blast. We rolled through a 35-minute set of such nautical nuggets as "Sail On" by the Commodores, "Southern Cross" by Crosby, Stills & Nash, and "Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers. The latter was especially fun because everyone was clapping and singing along. We ended with a version of Styx' "Come Sail Away" that interpolated "Ride Captain Ride" by Blues Image" and "Captain Jack" by Billy Joel. While not all of these songs technically constitute Yacht Rock, they were thematically close enough.

Seeing all 10 episodes of Yacht Rock on a big screen back-to-back have drilled several choice quotes deep into my skull. I hope J.D. Ryznar makes more episodes. Ryznar was at the screening and it was good to meet the man who brought "Michael McDonald" to life in person.

Clickr on me Flickr to view more photos of the show.

No Boxcutters, No Liquids, No Dudes Kissing

American Airlines has a longstanding reputation as a gay-friendly company, but that didn't stop one of their trans-Atlantic flights from nearly being diverted last month after some paste-eater(s) on board got their diapers in a pinch because two men were kissing.

Certainly there's such a thing as taking public displays of affection too far when you're riding in a common conveyance, but any kiss that honeymooning heteros can engage in should be fair game for same sex couples, too.

One time I was on a plane and the woman seated next to me started talking about how I needed to give my life to Jesus. I happen to think unsolicited proselytizing is obnoxious and offensive, but it wasn't putting me or the aircraft in any danger, so I wasn't about to go whine to the flight attendants just to preserve my sensibilities.

If I can sit through being witnessed to without having the pilot threaten to divert the plane, then surely the Friends of Leviticus can live with having to watch two guys kiss each other. If not, perhaps they should just keep their feet on the ground until the Rapture comes.

1970 Shakey's Pizza Commercial

When I was a kid, it was always a treat to go to Shakey's Pizza to watch silent movies and listen to the banjo players.

By the time the 80s rolled around, Shakey's had pretty much disappeared from Texas, but you can still find them in the Western U.S. and internationally. Hey! Hey! Buffet! once published a review by Jason Ward of a Shakey's pizza buffet in Osaka, Japan.

This here commercial features Kathy Coleman, who went on to play Holly on Sid and Marty Krofft's Land of the Lost from 1974 to 1976. It also features one of the most ham-fisted local tags you'll ever see ("Hey kids! Look, a Frisbee!").

Austin trivia: did you know that before it was I Luv Video and before it was Antone's, the building at 2915 Guadalupe was a Shakey's Pizza?

Don Walser Died Today

I’m sad to report that Austin country music legend Don Walser passed away this afternoon at the age of 72.

After retiring from a 39-year career with the Texas National Guard, the yodeling troubadour from Lamesa, Texas embarked on a second career as a full-time musician in the 90s. In some sense, this was the continuation of the fledgling country music career Walser had abandoned for the Guard in 1957. He performed until 2003, when declining health forced him to stop. Walser’s cross-cultural appeal embraced two-steppers, punk rockers and everyone in between because he was the real thing.

I remember seeing Walser play with the Kronos Quartet at Bass Concert Hall in 1997. It was a far cry from his residency at the long-gone Henry’s Bar & Grill on Burnet Road, but Don seemed right at home. He talked from the stage about how appreciative he was to play with the "young folks" in the New York-based postmodern chamber music quartet. "I've got socks older than some of 'em," he joked.

Shortly thereafter, my folks went to see Walser and the Pure Texas Band play in Houston and got him to autograph a publicity photo for me. He wrote, “To Greg, Thanks for liking our music.” I found it remarkable that someone like Walser would be compelled to thank me for liking his music, but I think he just really appreciated the warmth he got from his audiences and wanted to reciprocate in kind.

1998 photo of Don Walser at Jovita's by Ha Lam, Austin American-Statesman

Set Sail Tonight with Yacht Rock and Captain Smoothe

Don't forget about Yacht Rock with pre-show music by Captain Smoothe tonight at the Alamo Drafthouse Downtown. It's going to be a multi-sensory soft-rocktacular that’ll soothe your soul like a sweet-ass river of aloe vera on your ACL Music Festival sunburn.

Advance tickets are still available as of right now as I write this at 12:38am CDT.

Sunday ACL Wrap-Up

I didn't make it to the end of ACL after all. The skies opened up about 40 minutes into Tom Petty's set and it wasn't a given that the rain would stop. I didn't feel like waiting around to find out. As it was, Petty began playing again around 9:35. I can say the first half of the set was pretty good.

After kicking off with a somewhat uneven "Listen to Her Heart" (perhaps because of sound trouble), Petty ran through "Mary Jane's Last Dance," "I Won't Back Down" and "Free Fallin'," all of which were sung enthusiastically by two short-but-loud women standing right behind me. The new single "Saving Grace" sounded good, as did an unexpected cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well."

Thirty years after his debut LP, Petty still puts on a good show. I miss former Heartbreaker drummer Stan Lynch, though. I don't doubt that Steve Ferrone has a wider range and is technically more proficient, but he doesn't have that barely-behind-the-beat nuance that Lynch had.

As expected, the Flaming Lips at sunset proved to be an amazing spectacle. A cadre of Santa Clauses danced on one end of the stage while a group of go-go girl Martians danced at the other end. Confetti cannons, giant balloons and inflatable robots assured visual stimulation even for the folks in the back. This is a band that knows how to play a festival gig.

Musically, the Lips bashed through "Race for the Prize," "She Don't Use Jelly," "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song" and set closer "Do You Realize?" in a manner that left no doubt as to those songs' rock anthem pedigree. Wayne Coyne gave a shout-out to the Butthole Surfers, Scratch Acid and the Hickoids for getting the Oklahoma City-based band into Texas during the Eighties. That was a nice touch in front of 30,000 fans.

Of the four ACL Music Festivals I've attended, I'd probably rank this as my second favorite. I liked the 2003 edition a little more because the weather was better and the novelty factor was in full effect, but 2006 definitely beat out the last two years. I'll never be a big fan of festivals, but as they go, I still think ACL runs a pretty good show.

Rainy Days and Bloody Noses

Woke up (relatively) early this morning to review the Black Angels' 12:50 set. A downpour hit Zilker just before they took the stage. It was nice while it lasted, but the resulting humidity was anything but. Nevertheless, the Angels put on a good show. Ditto for Bay City's Jones Family Singers, who got the gospel tent rocking.

Apparently Ben Kweller doesn't read this blog or he would've known to take some allergy medication before playing yesterday. As it was, an allergy-related double nosebleed stopped his show just a few songs in. There's not much you can do to soldier through a set when there's blood gushing out your nostrils.

I'm about to head back out to catch the Flaming Lips and Tom Petty. T.P. is the first act since REM in 2003 I've cared enough about to stay until the very end of ACL. I've seen Petty twice before, but not since 1986, and I hear this is his last full-scale tour. I guess ol' Mudcrutch is getting on up there just like the rest of us.

98 Degrees Is Still Hot

Although the lower temps and heartier grass at Zilker Park have gone a long way toward curtailing the refugee camp vibe of last year's ACL Festival, it still requires a stoic resolve to stand there and get cooked. This is true even when you're watching a performer that's somewhat enjoyable like Denmark-based Maximum R&B outfit the Blue Van. God bless those wiry Danes for rocking out in such inhospitable weather, but I'd still rather be watching them at a club. Fortunately they'll be back here to play at Emo's in just over a month.

Gnarls Barkley was pretty good, but the only truly superlative show I've seen so far this weekend was Van Morrison's Friday night set. He never appeared to be putting forth much effort, yet every soulful note he sang rang true. Morrison's band was equally spectacular in an understated way. Who needs flash when you've got enough meat to end your show with "Brown-Eyed Girl," "Wild Night" and "Gloria?"

ACL 2006 May Catch Break from God

It looks like the weather will be a little more tolerable for this year's Austin City Limits Music Festival. Highs in the mid 90s with a 20-30 percent chance of rain. That's perfectly reasonable for mid-September in Texas.

They've been watering Zilker Park for weeks in an effort to avoid a repeat of last year's dust bowl. Nevertheless, allergens are out in force this weekend so I'll be hopped up on Claritin in addition to sunscreen and bottled water.

Speaking of watering, I stupidly left my soaker hose on all night, possibly drowning several privacy bushes. Now all the middle schoolers are going to have to watch me mow without a shirt on for years to come.

Ann Richards Had Balls!

Regardless of how you felt about Ann Richards as a governor, everyone should go check out Glen Maxey's hilarious and heartfelt tribute at Burnt Orange Report.

It's classic Texas political humor at its finest.

So Long, Ann

Former Texas governor Ann Richards died last night of esophageal cancer at age 73. She was the last Democrat elected governor of this state and will likely remain that way for awhile.

Imagine what a different planet we'd be living on today if she'd been re-elected in 1994. Actually, I'm sad enough without imagining that.

It wasn't uncommon to see Richards out and about in Austin. I once sat behind her at a matinee screening of Boogie Nights at the then-brand new Gateway Cinema. She got up and left when the drug scenes started, though I couldn't tell if that's what prompted her hasty departure. More recently, I saw her hanging out with Jerry Hall at Rachel Fuller's SXSW showcase in 2005.

Most everyone who has lived here for any length of time has similar stories. I thought it was kind of cool that you could be doing your thing and happen to bump into the former governor. The lady really got around town.

I can't speak for the rest of Texas, but there's a palpable sense of loss in Austin this morning.

Phil Spector Box for $14.99 at Amazon

My pal Kent B. recently steered me toward Amazon's super discount on the Phil Spector Back to Mono box set.

Released in 1991, this four-disc set chronicles the building of the brilliantly troubled producer's "Wall of Sound" from 1958 through 1969. Disc one begins with the Teddy Bears' chart-topper "To Know Him Is To Love Him," the title of which was taken from Spector's dad's tombstone (he committed suicide when Phil was still a kid). All of the great Ronettes and Crystals singles are here, too, including "Be My Baby," "And Then He Kissed Me" and the extra-creepy "He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss)." Back to Mono also includes key tracks from the Righteous Brothers, Ben E. King, Ike and Tina Turner and Sonny Charles & the Checkmates.

Disc four contains the great A Christmas Gift for You, which hit stores on the day JFK was killed. That wasn't exactly good for sales, but the album eventually came to be regarded as a classic. I find almost all Christmas pop songs grating and pointless, but Spector's treatment actually puts me in the mood.

All this can be yours for just $14.99 plus shipping. Act now - unless you have a moral issue with possibly giving money to an alleged murderer!

Yacht Rock and Captain Smoothe Next Tuesday!

Climb aboard the Alamo Drafthouse Downtown next Tuesday, September 19 at 9:45pm, when Yacht Rock and Captain Smoothe drop anchor in Austin for a very special screening and musical performance featuring Yacht Rock creator J.D. Ryznar ("Michael McDonald," left) in person!

Yacht Rock is an Internet TV series with a cult following that takes real-life aspects of late 70s/early 80s soft rock hits and builds exaggerated storylines aroundthe songs and the mostly-bearded men behind them. Overwrought performances, cheap costumes, and insane plot lines add up to on-screen hilarity. Before screening the complete series, audience members can look to the bow of the vessel, where they'll witness a live musical tribute to the era by Austin's own Captain Smoothe.

Although the term 'yacht rock' generally refers to the highly polished brand of soft rock that emanated from Southern California during the late 70s and early 80s, it became a part of the vernacular practically overnight with the Channel 101 premiere of Yacht Rock in June of 2005. J.D. Ryznar and Hunter Stair's saga detailing the unknown mythical origins of a previously obscure genre of music struck the audience like a lightning bolt.

Director Ryznar devised the series after noticing several similarities between bands such as Steely Dan, Toto, and the Doobie Brothers; in particular, their collaborations with each other and with singer-songwriter Kenny Loggins - thus forming the primary cast of Yacht Rock. Armed only with a few friends, some witty dialogue, and often nothing more than a couple hundred bucks per episode - most of which, Ryznar says, "goes into feeding the cast and crew. Clearly, it doesn't go into the wigs and mustaches."

Captain Smoothe will navigate several of your favorite soft-rock shanties, including nautically-themed nuggets by Christopher Cross, the Doobie Brothers, Kenny Loggins, the Commodores, Styx, and Crosby, Stills, & Nash. Who else to hoist such a sail without going overboard but Lance Farley, Adam Kahan, David Wyatt and yours truly from Summer Breeze along with Hunter Darby (Diamond Smugglers, Dung Beetles), Julie Lowery (Fire Marshals of Bethlehem, Diamond Smugglers) and Jenny Smith (Fire Marshals of Bethlehem)?

Don't get left at the dock! Buy your tickets here.

Tacky Souvenirs of Post-9/11 America

Who goes to Ground Zero and buys a gimme cap to remember it by?

The first tacky 9/11 souvenir I ever came across was at the State Fair in Dallas a little more than a month after the attacks. It was a bumper sticker that read, "Now It's Our Turn" with an illustration of a jet fighter flying and an American flag.

Although irony was still dead at the time, I couldn't help but laugh at the sticker's (hopefully unintentional) implication that it was now our turn to murder thousands of innocent people with airplanes. I purchased the sticker from a man of Middle Eastern descent who excitedly informed me that we'd started bombing Taliban targets in Afghanistan. I wondered if he wasn't acting extra-excited for my benefit so I wouldn't think he was an evildoer.

Photo by Holly Northrup/Village Voice

In the Nood

Here’s the photo that permanently stymies any political ambition I might have beyond the City of Austin - though it could actually help me here.

Michael Crawford took this at Emo’s in 1995 at the final local installment of Noodle’s “All-Male Leather Revue.” The leather shows were our drummer Lance Farley's idea. He had a co-worker who let us borrow his extensive wardrobe of gay leather fetish gear, which was quite generous given how much that stuff costs.

Our first leather show was with Powersnatch at Chances in 1994. Chances was a lesbian bar on Red River that booked bands. Although most of the lesbians in attendance that night found our display charming, at least one of them got angry and threw ice at us while we played.

We were also supposed to play down the street at the Blue Flamingo, a gay bar that booked bands, but the Fuckemos ran over and I was more than a bit impaired by the time they stopped. I think we might've done three songs before closing time. As I was walking out the door, a girl grabbed me and stuck her tongue down my throat. That more than compensated for the ice-throwing lesbian. The evening was a big success.

My roommate Greg Giles took a bunch of photos at the Chances show, so when it came time to drum up proper exploitation for our headlining gig in the main room at Emo’s, I decided to send the Chronicle a photo of my g-stringed ass. It was a cheap publicity stunt, but I figured we needed to pull out all our guns (so to speak) to ensure a good crowd at this crucial show. Sure enough, we were the lead item in the live music recommendations. This effectively “outed” my band to all the people at my government job, too.

We opened the 1995 leather show with a cover of Judas Priest’s “Breaking the Law." I made my stage entrance riding a 10-speed bike. Guitarist Jonathan Toubin wore assless chaps that were violently yanked down by the crowd along with a healthy chunk of skin, leaving a painful souvenir on his inner thigh. A guy named Leroy with “LOSER” tattooed on his belly danced for us in a cowboy hat and women’s panties. We passed out ping-pong paddles for people to spank us with and I remember being shocked at how much that hurt. The club docked us for getting whipped cream in the monitors, but we still made more money than we’d ever made before.

I expected to get an earful when this photo ran the week after the show and I did. What I didn’t expect is for it to continue sporadically resurfacing for years after the fact. One time someone found a yellowed clipping of the photo on the floor behind their desk at my office. Another time, a female colleague said she’d seen me somewhere before and her face went ten shades of red as she gradually realized where.

Although I know it probably makes my poor mom cringe, I’m quite honored to have my likeness included in the Chronicle’s 25th anniversary issue - even if I had to take my pants off to make it happen.

The Ocean Called. They're Running Out of Shrimp.

I did something really bad to both my body and the planet last night.

After learning that Red Lobster has reactivated their beloved Endless Shrimp special, I went to the location nearest me and ate about 60 shrimp, most of which were deep fried. I was actually aiming to eat 100 shrimp, but I can't put them away like I could during my hardcore buffeteering days.

I suppose it's a bit unbecoming to walk into a restaurant alone with a magazine and stuff your face until you can't walk straight, but I couldn't turn away from all the shrimp I can eat for just $14.95. I couldn't leave the perfectly good cheddar biscuits, Caesar salad and baked potato alone, either.

This is one ugly American trait I'm going to have a hard time letting go of when the sugar teat runs dry.

Whoops, There Goes Pakistan!

Remember Pakistan? The country whose non-elected leader George W. Bush enlisted at great cost to help us smoke out Osama bin Laden even though he couldn't name said leader prior to becoming a non-elected leader himself in 2000?

Well, now Pervez Musharraf has decided that it's okay if al-Qaida and Taliban militants operate freely in Pakistan's border regions in exchange for a promise not to go into Afghanistan.

Pakistani Major General Shaukat Sultan Khan told ABC News that bin Laden would not be taken into custody by Pakistan "as long as (he) is being like a peaceful citizen."

Sleep well, security moms!

Mr. Biggs Headed for the Big House

Last Friday, ace Isley Brothers vocalist Ronald Isley drew a sentence of three years and one month in prison for tax evasion. The 65-year-old singer of "It's Your Thing," "Fight the Power" and "That Lady" also has to pay $3.1 million in back taxes to the IRS.

Isley has been suffering from stroke-related complications and kidney cancer, but U.S. Judge Dean Pregerson threw the book at him anyway, calling Isley a "serial tax avoider." Isley will likely report to a Bureau of Prisons hospital facility.

I don't know the specifics of Isley's case, nor do I support tax evasion, but isn't keeping a bankable artist locked up for that long going to cost the government lots more money in the long run?

You Just Never Know

I'm not an avid enthusiast of bondage, discipline and/or sadomasochism, or "BSDM," as we call it in the public health arena. It's an expensive hobby that would quickly leave me bereft of bowling money.

That said, I'm all about being prepared, so it can't hurt to have a safe phrase in case things start getting out of hand. Today I have chosen my safe phrase.

It's "sweet pickles."

Here's Scratch Acid In Yer Eye

My elongated feature on Scratch Acid came out on the cover of today's Chron. Some lovely illustrations accompany the story, including a band photo featuring a nude-but-tucked David Yow from back in the day. Much like Iggy Pop, whatever outrageous stunt you think of pulling as a frontman, Yow has probably already done it.

The original draft of this story was about 5,000 words, so I had to trim some good stuff. Most memorable was Hickoids singer Jeff Smith's account of how he and Yow used to greet each other in front of Club Foot by rubbing plaque off their teeth and putting it in each other's mouths. Having seen both men perform, I don't doubt that for a second.

I can't wait to see Scratch Acid on Saturday night. Scratch Acid plays around 11pm with Gorch Fock opening around 9:30. Tickets are still available, but I'd definitely get 'em in advance to be sure. Your Scratch Acid stamp also gets you into a late show by porn rap pioneer Blowfly at 12:30 in Emo's Lounge.

Hilly Michaels' "Calling All Girls!"

Here's a rare music video taped off one of the "AL TV" shows "Weird Al" Yankovic did for MTV around 1984.

Hilly Michaels' 1980 shoulda-been-a-hit "Calling All Girls" is one of my favorite videos from the early MTV era. Very silly yet totally stylish. I hadn't seen this video since 1982 until about five minutes ago.

Kyra in the Bathroom

When you're on TV for hours at a time, you don't always take off your mic when you take a break. Therefore, it's a good idea to turn it off when you leave the set. Apparently, helmet-haired CNN bobblehead Kyra Phillips forgot to do that yesterday.

While George Bush tried to put a positive spin on his administration's pathetic response to Hurricane Katrina, viewers overheard Kyra in the bathroom, chatting about men with an unidentified female colleague and deriding her brother's "control freak" wife. That's going to make for some interesting holiday dining.

Someone at CNN master control must really hate that woman.

(Via Wonkette)

Sizzling San Antonio

I spent the weekend in San Antonio with my parents in celebration of their 40th anniversary. As always, we stayed at the historic Menger Hotel next to the Alamo, lunched at Schilo’s Delicatessen on Commerce St. and dinnered at the Menger’s Colonial Room.

I’ve been going to San Antonio with my parents for their anniversary since I was a little kid. I used to sleep on a rollaway bed in their room, which didn’t strike me as conducive to romance even as an eight year-old, but that’s how it was in my compact family unit. I do have my own room now, in case you're wondering.

San Antonio is bone dry these days. It’s even worse than Austin. They’ve quit running fountains because of the drought, which has turned the Convention Center/Hemisfair Park complex into a blazing concrete jungle. I’d hope for a tropical storm if I wasn’t worried it would smash into the coast as a Category 5 hurricane.

Also, Earl Abel’s has reopened in a former HomeTown Buffet out on Austin Highway. It’s a shame developers tore down Earl Abel’s architecturally distinctive building on Broadway, at least the restaurant survives.

CNN: The "C" Doesn't Stand for Context

With large swaths of New Orleans still in ruins, it's going to be tough for the Bush administration put a positive spin on the first anniversary of the Katrina disaster, but give 'em credit for trying.

The midday news bobbleheads were all atwitter yesterday about a Hurricane Katrina victim named Rockey Vaccarella (cue Bill Conti fanfare) who showed up at the White House towing a FEMA trailer and was invited inside for an audience with our gracious leader.

Rockey was presented as just your average everyday hurricane victim - a guy who decided to roll up to the White House hauling a trailer and was granted admission. Just like that!

While Vaccarella did ride out the storm by holding on to a rope for four hours, what the media didn’t report is that he’s also a former GOP commissioner’s court candidate from St. Bernard Parish. That’s sort of important to know when he goes on TV to gush effusively about what a great job the Bush administration has done to rebuild Louisiana.

Not Doing the Popcorn

Last Saturday afternoon, a den of Cub Scouts was selling popcorn outside H-E-B. I was once a Cub Scout, attaining the lowly rank of “Wolf” before dropping out in favor of not missing ABC's Tuesday night line-up.

While I always buy cookies from the Girl Scouts, I can’t bring myself to give money to an organization with policies banning gay people from leadership positions and banning atheists and agnostics from taking part in scouting altogether. I know this sort of overt discrimination doesn’t necessarily represent the views of everyone involved with the Boy Scouts of America, so I feel bad about withholding my support for what might otherwise be an enriching experience for boys. But I’d feel even worse giving tacit support to those policies.

Hey, This Isn't Chicken

The posts are few and far between these days because I'm hard at work on a feature story about Scratch Acid in advance of their reunion show at Emo's on September 2nd. Those guys have some pretty amazing stories about what it was like to play punk rock in Austin during the Eighties.

From what I can gather, there was a lot more LSD going around back then. You still saw a bunch of big eyeballs at shows and parties when I first moved here in 1987, but I wouldn't know where to find acid today, and wouldn't know what to do with it if I did. I'm too anxious to fun around with heavy-duty psychedelic drugs.

I like to think I'm relatively balanced, but even on a good day, I can't be more than one or two tiny chemical reactions away from becoming the girl who ate her parakeet.

Grace Slick Taught Me to Count

These animated "Jazz Spies" counting segments on Sesame Street were my favorite part of the show. I remember rocking back and forth and singing along whenever they came on. I didn't learn that I was listening to Grace Slick singing until years later.

As the Seventies wore on, these psychedelic beauties were gradually phased out in favor of the better-known "Pinball" counting animation with vocals provided by the Pointer Sisters.

In addition to finding this on You Tube, I made it to ZOOM: Lost and Found last night at the Alamo Drafthouse and got to meet original ZOOMer Tommy White after the show.

All in all, a banner day indeed for reliving my television past.

Little Miss Sunshine

I saw Little Miss Sunshine on Friday night. It was the first time I’ve seen a major motion picture on opening day in about five years.

Greg Kinnear plays a failing motivational speaker who’s still using an overhead projector in 2006, Steve Carell plays a spurned gay professor recovering from a suicide attempt and Adam Arkin plays a grandfather evicted from the nursing home for snorting heroin. Kinnear’s wife, played by Toni Collette, is fraying in her efforts to hold everything together. His misanthropic 15-year-old son, Dwayne (Paul Dano), has taken a vow of silence, while his endearingly quirky seven-year-old daughter, Olive (Abigail Breslin), is determined to compete in a child beauty pageant. Despite their own collective mess of personal dysfunctions and humiliations, everyone in the family rallies behind Olive and piles into a VW minivan to make sure she gets to the pageant in California.

Despite some hackneyed plot devices, I thought Little Miss Sunshine was well-acted and quite funny. I’ve read a few reviews likening the movie to Harold and Maude (one of my all-time favorites) because of its semi-macabre, offbeat tone, but I think David O. Russell’s Flirting with Disaster might be a more apt comparison. I have a feeling it’ll be one of those "grower" movies that gets a lot of word-of-mouth business.

Upon exiting the Barton Creek Cinemark, I saw a guy in a track suit gesticulating wildly as he praised some movie like he was Quentin Tarantino. I looked again and realized it was Quentin Tarantino.

Friendly Skies, My Ass

I'm glad the Brits managed to foil the alleged terror plot to take out ten airliners over the Atlantic. I don't take anything the Bush administration says about terrorism at face value, and it's certainly not out of character for them to sound the threat alarm whenever ill political winds blow, but there's no evidence at this point to suggest this wasn't a legitimate threat.

Hopefully this carry-on liquid ban won't last forever. Those airport concessionaires selling $2.50 soft drinks beyond the security checkpoints must be creaming at the potential windfall. And even those drinks can't be taken on the plane.

I wonder how much longer will it be before one of these fundie cretins tries to blow up a plane with a kiestered explosive? That's when the real party starts. I can easily imagine taking my nonexistent kids to Disney World in ten years and having to tell them to pretend the TSA finger probe is just another ride.

Oliver Stone sure drew a great opening weekend for World Trade Center, didn't he? See ya at the movies!

Blood and Ice Cream

Good lord, I sure have been crazy for ice cream lately. Perhaps that's because it's been coming into my possession for absolutely nothing in recent weeks.

First there was H-E-B's come hither coupon for a free half-gallon of Creamy Creations. They sent these out in neighborhoods once served by Albertson's to attract displaced customers and I wound up with two since I was in between homes. I snagged half a gallon of Homemade Vanilla and what may have been the last half gallon of Poteet Strawberry for sale in the Austin area.

Then I went to the Blood & Tissue Center of Central Texas this afternoon to donate my regular pint of A-positive. I usually give on the blood bus at work, but my hematocrit count was low last week so I had to try again after bulking up on iron-laden favorites like red meat, fortified bread and raisins.

It just so happens August 7-19 is the Center's "Pint for a Pint" promotion. This means you get a pint of Blue Bell for donating blood. Not that I needed a pint of ice cream to donate blood, but it sure was nice walking into the 101-degree heat with a free pint of Peaches & Homemade Vanilla.

If you're eligible, consider giving blood. You can use the ice cream, and someone can probably use your blood, too.

We're Gonna Zooma Zooma Zooma Zoom!

I was weaned on Sesame Street, but the TV show I most identified with as a young kid in the Seventies was ZOOM. Produced by Boston’s WGBH from 1972 through 1978 (a revival was produced from 1999 to 2005), ZOOM was the only show you could tune into and see nothing but kids being kids for 30 minutes.

The show featured a forever-rotating cast of 10-to-14-year-old “ZOOMers” who dressed in matching striped rugby shirts and often performed barefoot. After all, it was the Seventies. Can you imagine trying to get a station’s legal counsel to allow children to run barefoot around a TV studio in 2006?

The ZOOMers rapped, sang, did plays, told jokes, played games and showed you how to make things. Location segments showed kids doing stuff like building multi-story treehouses and whipping up a batch of sarsparilla root beer. If you wanted to learn more, or if you had an idea for a future episode, you could write the show. A clever jingle (“Write ZOOM, Z-double-O-M.Box 350/Boston, Mass./0-2-1-3-4/Send it to ZOOM!”) drilled the address deep into your skull. Even if I forget how to eat, I’ll always remember the address for ZOOM.

I really idolized the ZOOMers. I even made my mom “invite” the ZOOMers to my fifth birthday party. Long before Pinky Tuscadero and Blair Warner, my very first TV crushes were on girl ZOOMers. I had it especially bad for Tracy from season one and Lori from season two. My parents somehow managed to get Tracy’s autograph for me at a local PBS function in Dallas, but I could never quite imagine how this girl on TV came to scribble a note to me on the back of an envelope. Even though I’d been inside a TV studio, the people on TV were still somewhat mystical to me at that age.

Unlike the Britney-era Mickey Mouse Club, ZOOM wasn’t a career stepping stone. Aside from not using their last names on the air, ZOOMers had to agree not to do any television for three years after appearing on the show. That's how serious producer Christopher Sarson was about not casting would-be child stars. One former ZOOMer that did eventually go into entertainment was Tommy White (left), who formed Boston-based punk band Unnatural Axe with Rich Parsons. They made a regional underground splash with a song called “They Saved Hitler’s Brain.”

All of this leads us up to 7pm next Tuesday, August 15 at the Alamo Drafthouse Downtown, where Tommy White will present ZOOM: Lost and Found, a collection of rare clips detailing the history of this oft-forgotten yet charming PBS classic.

Missing this would be like pushing my inner-child down a flight of stairs.

Steak 'N Shake Coming to Austin

Although there’s still no word on when the first Austin area Krystal will open, we are scheduled to get our first Steak 'n Shake at IH-35 and Slaughter before year’s end. The Midwestern chain is a bit more upscale than your typical quick-service concept, serving its trademark “steakburgers” on china 24 hours a day. You can also get that wonderful old Rust Belt standby, “Chili 3-Way.”

I remember there were a few Steak 'n Shakes in Houston during the Seventies, but they were all gone by the end of the decade. The franchise’s current, more successful foray into Texas began a few years back in Dallas/Fort Worth, where they now have 18 units.

Court Rejects Perrymandering

Yesterday's court-ordered redistricting was a tiny victory for Austin. It doesn't give the city the contiguous congressional representation it had before Tom DeLay and his dirty brownshirts in the state legislature divided Austin into three districts running all the way to Houston, Midland and Mexico, but at least the court rejected any further gerrymandering efforts by Rick Perry, who wanted to move enough of Lloyd Doggett's district out of Travis County to make it swing Republican.

Sure it's small, but the revolution has to start somewhere.

Arthur Lee R.I.P.

Arthur Lee, leader of the legendary Los Angeles band Love, died of leukemia yesterday afternoon at the age of 61. News of his death was reported on the band's message board.

Love's only Top 40 hit was the 1966 proto-punk screamer, "7 & 7 Is," but their third album, 1967's Forever Changes, was a meticulously-conceived masterpiece that has only grown in stature over the years. Rhino reissued the album in 2001 with outtakes from the "Your Mind and We Belong Together" tracking session. Lee's studio talkbox banter on the track is reminiscent of Brian Wilson's direction during the Pet Sounds sessions.

The classic Love line-up only lasted through Forever Changes. Lee stayed peripherally involved in the L.A. music scene, occasionally reforming Love in some permutation. He was sentenced to 12 years in prison for illegal possession of a firearm in 1996. During his legal troubles, Love members Bryan MacLean and Ken Forssi died, precluding any future reunions.

Upon his 2001 release, Lee took a cue from Brian Wilson and began performing Forever Changes in its entirety with a band called "Love with Arthur Lee." Despite initial rave reviews, Lee left the band in 2005. His illness was revealed earlier this year.

I'll definitely be listening to Forever Changes this weekend along with "Stephanie Knows Who," "She Comes in Colors," "Signed D.C." and several others. Lee was one of the visionary greats.

Masonic: Without Warning

As I noted in my review last month, Masonic's third album, Without Warning, is yet another solid collection of heady pop rock buzz.

The Austin quintet's record release show is tonight at the Parish. They'll be performing the new album front to back. Masonic's cover of ABBA's "S.O.S." ought to be especially tasty live.

Kim McLagan Killed in Car Accident

Some very sad and shocking news for Austin music fans. Kim McLagan, wife of Faces keyboardist Ian McLagan, was killed yesterday in a two-car accident in eastern Travis County. She was 57.

Prior to her marriage to McLagan, the former London-based fashion model was married to Who drummer Keith Moon from 1966 to 1975. The McLagans moved to Austin from Los Angeles in 1994. More recently, Kim had opened a skincare shop while Ian has been packing them in with a Thursday evening residency at Lucky Lounge with the Bump Band.

The Statesman has more information here.

A Tax Holiday for the Rest of Us

If you're in Texas and need some new duds, wait until Friday. That's when our annual back-to-school sales tax holiday weekend begins. You can avoid paying sales tax through midnight Sunday. Here's a list of what's tax-free, courtesy of Gramma Strayhorn.

Also, JenBB of Felt Up and Blue Velvet reknown informed me last year that used clothes are just as tax-free as new ones. If you see me shopping this weekend, don't get in the way of the vintage Guayaberas.

One place you won't find me is at the fancy new outlet mall in Round Rock. I suppose I'll wind up there eventually, but driving out there on opening weekend during a sales tax holiday would be just the right thing to sour me on humanity forever.

The Ballad of Charles Whitman

Today is the 40th anniversary of the UT Tower shootings. On August 1, 1966, UT architecture student and former Marine sharpshooter Charles Whitman killed 13 people and wounded 31 others from the tower's 27th floor observation deck. He also killed his wife and mother before going to the tower, bringing the death toll to 15.

In the wake of the shootings, which went on for 96 minutes, local police departments around the country formed SWAT teams to deal more effectively with high-calibered angry men like Whitman. Austin decided maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave ambulance service to funeral homes and formed the forerunner to today's EMS.

UT officially ignored the shootings for many years. While many assumed the tower's observation deck was shut down after the shootings, it actually remained open until 1974, when one too many suicides prompted UT's Board of Regents to close it. The observation deck finally reopened in 1998 under heavy security.

On Saturday, our local Fox affiliate ran a special on the shootings that claimed Whitman was "our first domestic terrorist." You can call Whitman a lot of things, but minus an established political motive to his crime, calling him a terrorist is kind of silly.

At any rate, Metroblogging Austin's Tim Trentham has compiled a plethora of links about the UT Tower shootings if you're interested in learning more about Austin's most infamous day.