Here’s that story I mentioned yesterday.
I’m off in a few minutes to drive the six long hours to my hometown. The expected highlight of the drive: Lea’s in LeCompte, home of Louisiana’s best pies. Mmmmm.
Tonight should be fun: I get to go give a lecture to a doctoral class filled with a bunch of school administrators training to someday be superintendents. My assignment: tell them how to get along with the press. It’s always fun lecturing my elders, but I wonder how I’ll fill an entire hour with variations on “Stop lying to us quite so often, please.”
I have just noticed that Katie is today wearing a dress emblazoned in images of Mao himself.
Perhaps she does know about the yak vomit. Perhaps she knows much more than I had been led to believe.
I don’t know who to trust anymore.
More news from the M&M vote fraud front.
(First-time readers may not know that I’ve been carrying out a lonely campaign for candy-coated justice for some time now; you may wish to read this, this, and this before going further. In particular, I’ve uncovered the great tan M&M fraud of 1995, the lies Mars Inc. tells about its colored past, and the mysterious aqua chad scandal.)
Today’s new investigative direction comes courtesty of Katie, who pointed out to me that M&Ms aren’t the only candy going through a color change. Packages of Skittles currently feature a white candy (Klan influence at work?) that they’re terming the Mystery Flavor. Could this fit into the M&M conspiracy?
Point one: Skittles and M&Ms, although viewed as traditional rivals, are in fact owned by the same company, Mars. A quick check of the Mars web site uncovers a weird, Rand-ian conflation of robber-baron capitalism and self-actualization, just the kind of mix that can lead to tyranny. (The fifth “corporate principal” of Mars is “freedom”: “We need freedom to shape our future; we need profit to remain free.” Tell me that doesn’t sound like George Orwell meets Michael Milken.)
Point two: Skittles has already shown a desire to infiltrate young minds and make them consider the contemplation of candy colors higher-order thought. The school-based Skittles Challenge 2002 may simply look like brilliant marketing to many, but to a perceptive eye, it’s a naked grab of hearts and minds.
Point three: Could the Skittles mystery color be a mere “holding place” for whatever color gets summarily dumped from the M&M pack once purple, pink, or aqua gets railroaded in? Mars could have lots of brown, green, or red dye to get rid of once the coup is completed.
Point four: Could the mystery Skittle be, in fact, a delivery system for psychotropic drugs designed to make the M&M color transition smooth? Its “flavor,” if indeed it has one, is difficult to ascertain; Katie describes it as “reminiscent of licorice and yak vomit.” I’m not sure Katie knows this, but yak vomit is known throughout the Chinese interior as a powerful mind-control drug, often used by Maoist rebels in the 1940s and later during both the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution.
We have many more questions than we have answers. But answers will come, friends. Oh, they will come.
Is CNN.com becoming more tabloidy? Here are four of the 10 most important stories in the world right now, according to their editors:
Mysterious black blob floating near Florida
Mom gives birth to four identical girls
Greetings to the thousands of you suddenly checking out my humble weblog, all because of MSN’s misguided decision to make the CD Mix of the Month club its “Daily Diversion.” Of course, I now fully expect the RIAA to come shut me down.
For lost newcomers, you’re reading the web site of a 26-year-old Dallas newspaper reporter. Marginally more information is available on the “about” page, and feel free to meander through the archives.
The best attempt at a criminal defense ever:
“During what was to be a routine proceeding to set future court dates, [accused eBay hacker Jerome] Heckenkamp challenged the indictment against him on the grounds that it spells his name, Jerome T. Heckenkamp, in all capital letters, while he spells it with the first letter capitalized, and subsequent letters in lower case.”
What a day. First, my ugly mug gets looped all night on TXCN. Then I’m at the top of the front page of today’s paper.
But those pale in comparison to getting profiled in the pages of today’s Yale Daily News.
Remember all those nice things I said about Molly a few days back? I take them all back. She is a one-woman web of deceit. To point out only a few of the scurrilous lies in her article:
- To write, as Molly does, that “Josh subsists entirely on burritos prepared by a greasy fast-food joint five blocks away” is both inaccurate and disrespectful to the fine folks at Chipotle. I would like to point out that (a) Molly had no complaints about the three meals we ate there during her 10-day stay, at one point requesting it as a dinner location, and (b) when we ate there, she showed a nasty tendency to spill guac on herself. The resultant pants stains are clearly at least partially behind her burrito animus.
Also, I occasionally eat at Wendy’s.
- Quote: “Consequently, his fridge contains only a case of Samuel Adams and a carton of yogurt that expired sometime around Halloween. I assume he bought the yogurt to impress girls.” If Molly would have taken the time to report accurately, she would have known that the case is actually of year-old homebrew straight from Toledo, Ohio. And the yogurt expired only days before her arrival. As for the impressing girls part, well, we all know nothing impresses the ladies like old yogurt.
- Quote: “Of course, there were a few things about Josh and his apartment that I found alien to Yale life. His shower was completely free of tumbleweed-sized hairballs and breast self-examination placards. [This much is true. -ed.] There was not one unexplained stain on his entire couch. [Luckily, she didn’t flip the cushions.] His copies of Maxim were stacked neatly on the coffee table, rather than lying dog-eared on the floor with the “Girls of Cosmo Surrender!” centerfold ripped out. [She fails to point out I recently let my subscription lapse. Purposefully.]”
I’ve learned a lot from the experience of being written about. I’ve learned to never trust a reporter again. Wait a minute.
I swear, I age 20 years every time I do live TV. I had no problem debating in front of big crowds in high school, but geez, the six or seven theoretical viewers of TXCN intimidate the hell out of me. It went okay, though.
If it’s the day after the Oscars, you know Fametracker‘ll be in fine form.
“Hi, I’m Sidney Poitier. People, don’t you realize that by having Faith Hill sing a love song by Diane Warren, you created a sucking vortex of whiteness so powerful that you’ve endangered everything I’ve worked so hard for? Really — I’ve seen more soul at a Cub Scout Jamboree. I’ve seen more soul at the Betty Crocker Marshmallow-based-Desserts Bake-Off in Billings, Montana. I’ve seen more soul in a very special episode of Full House, guest starring Marie Osmond, Lisa Whelchel, and G. Gordon Liddy.”
I’ve just been informed my TV appearance will be broadcast live, not taped as all my previous TXCN appearances. Shoot me now.
Of course, I picked a wonderful night to stay up waaaay too late. Watch TXCN for any random hour tonight and you’ll see my hangdog face talking about that most magical of topics, school lockers. I’ll be the guy with circles under my micron-wide-open eyes.
Note to self: No matter how maddening things might get, no matter how questionable decisions might be, do your best not to piss off the person in charge of approving your expense account.
Let’s see: it’s 12:06 a.m. So far tonight, I’ve written three stories and roughly 3,000 words. (This blog entry does not count toward those totals.) I’ve got four stories and about another 3,000 words to go, plus a whole ‘nother story to finish before noon.
The next time someone offers me a big freelance job to do, would someone please remember to tell me to either (a) turn it down or (b) start writing before the night before it’s due? Not that it’s news to me, but I’m discovering Olympian reserves of procrastination in me. I think they’re in my spleen or something.
In unrelated sanity matters, may I recommend soma.fm for your late-night Internet radio needs? I believe I may.
Dropped Molly off at the airport this morning. What a terrific girl. (When they’re 20, is “girl” still appropriate, or is it yet “woman”?) As I mentioned before, I was worried we’d get cabin fever being stuck in the same confined space for 10 days, but we got along great; by day six, we were finishing each other’s sentences. Keep an eye out for her on the pages of America’s finest publications.
I’m sore as hell from lifting weights today, for the first time in months. The reason? Well, the next time I get caught in the frame of a webcam flexing next to Jeremy, I want be able to (visually) kick his ass. Um, fat chance. (Actually, the real reason is much more prosaic: revenge!)
If you’re one of the local bloggers, I’ll probably see you tonight at the inkdeep/chimchim party tonight. There will even apparently be an appearance by Miss Haikooties herself, who I hope is over her bout of tuberculosis earlier this week. Don’t let her cough on the potato salad!
Spent this morning at a high school in suburban Fort Worth. It’s a nice, new campus, with gleaming halls, happy kids, and good administrators. After spending time in central city schools in Dallas, well, it’s a change.
Meryl points out a great idea in meatspace peer-to-peer trading: BookCrossing. Leave your old books out in a random place, and watch them flow through the lives of others.
Saw the collected DFWbloggers last night, many of whom I hadn’t seen in at least a week! Fun as always, and good to see some of the not-quite-as-regulars show up. (Aside: does anybody know where I could find a readymade script for a “What Kind of Blah-Blah-Blah Am I?” quiz?)
Also, many thanks to Max and Chris, the good people behind Burn, Baby Burn! another CD mix-swapping system online. They got mefi’d, and they’re referring some of their excess traffic my way.
If I was starting CDMOM again now, I’d probably do it their way (many people send mixes to one another) rather than my current way (many people send mixes to me, and I send mixes to them). It’s likely to be much more scalable when decentralized — sort of a Gnutella vs. Napster argument. (Perhaps I shouldn’t evoke that, since I’d rather not be sued by Big Music anytime soon.)
Meg — who had earlier had some interesting things to say about my mainstream-media-defending rant a few days ago (check the comments) — has turned the SXSW panel experience into an interesting article on how conferences are less then ideally structured.
Not to drag the indie-media-vs.-mainstream-media debate on, but Meg makes an intriguing observation about the experience of writing up her thoughts for a publication (even an online one) versus simply blogging them:
“So far what’s been cool about writing for O’Reilly is the opportunity to think more deeply on a topic. The observation that lead to this month’s column in the past would have been a simple megnut post, probably no more than a paragraph or two. I doubt I would have taken the time and effort to seriously explore the implications of my observations. But the column forced me to do this, and I really enjoyed the process.”
Go Big-M Media! :)
In beauty pageant news: “MADRID, Spain — An undercover journalist bribed a regional beauty pageant judge, revealing alleged corruption in the Miss Spain contest. Gema Garcia Marcos, 31, won the Miss Alicante crown after she offered €27,000 ($23,700) to a judge.”
I dunno, she’s pretty hot. Wonder if I could bribe my way into a Mr. Texas victory.
Met with my Little Brother today, for the first time in a while (because of the Olympics and his spring break). He’s not doing well. Got suspended from school for six days a couple weeks ago. Failing some classes. Probably won’t be promoted from freshman to sophomore next year. And, unfortunately, the silly restrictions on the Big Brother program I’m in means I’m fairly powerless to do anything about it, or to even find out the root causes. Frustrating.
Great piece in the Sunday Globe on the secret life of Walter Scott, he of “Walter Scott’s Personality Parade,” the celeb-happy column on page 2 of Parade magazine every Sunday. (And don’t try to deny you read it.)
I’ve been a little delayed in launching it, but March CD Mix of the Month exchange is ready to go. Email me if you want to take part. I burned my mix last night. If you’re outside the DFW area, drop yours in the mail ASAP; when you tell me you’ve mailed it, I’ll mail you mine. If you’re local, feel free to bring your mix to Wednesday’s DFWblogs happy hour, Friday’s inkdeep/chimchim party, or some other time of mutual agreement. Either way, let me know if you’re playing so I know how many CDs to burn.
Had a story on the front page today: San Antonio companies score big with test mandate.
Also of interest to regular crabwalk.com readers: M&M vote gets sticky.
“I want to start a totally worthless, clandestine campaign,” the e-mail [circulating among the gay community] says. “We need to vote for the pink M&M. I don’t need to say why. Is it trite? Sure. Is it subtle? Absolutely. Is it just plain stupid? OF COURSE IT IS. … [But] when pink wins the vote, you can snicker at your knowledge of the power of a gay voting bloc.”
You may remember my pointing out the gay implications of the pink ballot earlier in this space.
Continues the author: “Now that pink has its cheering section, where are the special-interest groups for the other two colors? Purple has Prince fans, but who will come out for aqua?” Come on, that should be obvious.
Finally, this article finally contains the evidence we need to bring down the M&M cartel. M&M spokesman Scott Hudler has an off-handedly damning quote in this graf:
“And out of the three, aqua is the color that needs support most dearly, according to figures from the last M&M color campaign, in which blue won. ‘We have some historical data from ‘95 when we did the original color vote,’ Mr. Hudler says. ‘Blue ran away with it, but purple finished a high second with 32 percent. Pink was a little lower. Aqua came in third.’”
Whoa! Two points, before I go get my guns and start a candy-coated revolution:
- If purple finished with 32 percent and pink “a little lower,” it’s almost certain that they combined to win more than 50 percent of the vote. This proves my thesis that the pink/purple ballot choices were designed to split the vote on that end of the color wheel and shove a less-than-revered blue into the candy bag. Get me Woodward and Bernstein!
- Aqua was not even a candidate in ‘95! Let me rephrase that: aqua was not a publicly acknowledged candidate in ‘95! All the ballots said were blue, purple, and pink. So how could aqua have finished third? (For the moment, we’ll look past the fact that according to his own numbers, aqua finished fourth.) How long will America put up with rigged elections with “shadow” candidates?
I’ve already called M&M on their revisionist history before. What’s next, a memo claiming that all M&Ms have always been purple, and contrary memories are to be stricken from the public record? “Oceania has always been at war with Eastasia”? And I’d like to point out again that the candy czars still have not revealed what color will get the axe with a new color is crowned.
It’s a lonely fight, battling for justice. Join me in my struggle.
I got a personalized press release today from the Tortilla Industry Association. About tortillas in space, no less. (I love the little tortilla mascot. And there’s still time to prepare your academic papers “on subjects relating to either corn tortillas or wheat flour tortillas” for the 2002 Excellence in Research Award.)
(Being on airplanes with a laptop makes me write a lot.)
SXSW: I met some very cool people, I’m happy to report. Admittedly, my vision of hell is a never-ending cocktail party, so there were huge segments of the conference that weren’t exactly my scene. But there were plenty of people I’m very glad to have met and, to varying degrees, gotten to know. (If you’re not on this list, that meant I secretly hated you! Okay, just kidding — I probably just forgot, my apologies.)
From SF: JessaJune, Jish, Booboolina, Kevin, Mena, Ben, Cory.
From Austin: Julie, Michael, Tim.
From Seattle: Jane.
From St. Louis: Brad.
From Canada: James, Joots, and the ultracool Katherine, who is going to get me on the CBC (the absolute climax of my Canadaphilia).
But for all the good feelings, my SXSW experience ended on a sour note, with the Tuesday panel on P2P, weblogs, and the media. I’ve never seen so much clueless anti-mainstream-media sentiment in one room. “I don’t trust anything the media says,” one guy said, summing up the apparent sentiment of a lot of people. With a straight face, they argued (to varying extremes) that blogs produced better journalism than the evil Big-M Media, including more accurate and less biased reporting.
To which I say: what utter, utter bullshit.
I’ll be the last guy to defend every last thing the media does. There are good reporters and bad reporters, good newspapers and bad newspapers, good TV news and bad TV news (okay, mostly bad). But the vibe these people had wasn’t constructive criticism. It was aimless, mindless, knee-jerk sentiment.
It’s the same indie coolness bullshit that you see when a tiny grassroots band suddenly hits it big, and the immature indie idiots who used to love them suddenly start crying sell-out because they’re committed to “keeping it real.” It’s the same people who think that something can only be good if only three cool people know about it, and they all read about it in a smudged photocopied zine they got from their pot dealer.
The same people who shout that getting paid to be a reporter “corrupts the process,” like journalists sell their soul when they decide they’d like to occasionally eat, or perhaps buy a slightly larger cardboard box to live in. The same people who complain when a little blog they’ve found gets “too popular.” It’s the silly defense mechanism of an emotional child.
(I’m not a particularly huge Dave Eggers fan, but I wanted to stand up and applaud when he wrote about this topic some time ago. The addendum is really the section you want to read here.)
To clarify: I love blogs. I learn new things from them all the time. But you know what 95% of the things I learn from them are? I learn where to find an interesting article in the mainstream media. With the occasional exception of a blog devoted to a narrow content area (like Romenesko or Glenn’s wifi blog), they’re leeches in the very best sense. (I’m talking about their news value here, not other things that show up in blogs.)
Seriously, these people who say that Metafilter is a better source of news than the New York Times — can they read? These people who say blogs covered 9/11 better than CNN — do they have televisions? There were people at this panel who said that blogs provided the first-person 9/11 commentary that the Big Media didn’t, and with more accurate use of sources — are they insane?
I’m all for people having their own voices, letting a million flowers bloom, etc. But the people at the New York Times are there because — hold on to your ego! — they’re better journalists than you are.
Media consumers have a nasty habit. If they see an article they think advances their point of view, they think it’s brilliant journalism. If they see an article they disagree with, they think the media sucks. If they’re conservative, they think it’s that dastardly liberal media again. If they’re liberal (like 90% of the people in that SXSW panel), they think it’s the evil of corporate ownership. If they’re black, they might think it’s racism. If they’re white, they might think it’s “political correctness.”
Part of me wishes I had spoken up during the session. But (a) I didn’t feel like being the only contrarian in a room of anti-mainstream media people, and (b) I was getting moderately enraged listening to people, and I suspected that if I had started talking, I would have gone a little postal. So I kept shut. Probably a good piece of advice for me in general. But the next time you feel like making an aimless rant against The Media and Its All-Seeing Masonic Power of Corruption, please think for a moment. There are a lot of good people out there who do a lot of great work. A lot of them get paid to do it. To dismiss them all with a wave of your crass indie-cred hand is just cowardice.
UPDATE (written 3:30 p.m.): Headed back to the San Antonio airport. After spending a few hours at a testing company headquarters, you’d think they were storing the nation’s plutonium reserves or something — we’re talking absurd national-security levels of restrictions. “You can’t photograph that.” “I will not answer that.” “We don’t get into that.” “You have to delete all those photos from your digital camera.” I half expected to be mistakenly led into a room holding the Ark of the Covenant.
The low point of the day is easy to pick out. To demonstrate their new artificial intelligence essay-grading system, the testing folks made me sit down and answer an essay question meant for 10th graders. (I’d reveal the topic, but I was told that doing so would mean I’d be instantly sued. I’m allowed to tell you the topic required a “persuasive essay.” Oooh, inside testing industry dirt.)
I sit down and bang out the essay. I hit submit. The AI engine rates each essay on a 1-6 scale, with six being the best. I got a three.
I’m a professional writer. It’s what I get paid to do. Some people think I’m pretty good at it. I got a three.
Admittedly, I was given five minutes to write my essay, and the 10th graders are normally given 50. But still, three? I demand a recount.
(written earlier today, being posted, um, now): I’m sitting on a plane winging from Dallas to San Antonio. I think this is my first ever flight on Southwest, which means that along with finally going to Austin last weekend, I’ve crossed two of the classic Texan activities off my to do list.
I’m going to San Antonio for an education story that should run sometime early next week. It’s about the standardized test industry, the folks who make the state standards exams (like the TAAS in Texas) that students have come to dread. With the boom in these tests in the last few years, the little industry that makes them is having a hell of a time keeping up, and that’s raised a bunch of issues. I was joking with someone yesterday that it’s the classic Josh education story — really interesting to me in a geeky, wonky way, but probably boring to my readers. They all seem to prefer happy little profiles of smiling teachers and apple-cheeked eight-year-olds.
By getting on this flight, I’m leaving behind my major obligation for the next week and a half. I’m hosting a junior from my alma mater. The university has a program in which current students spend their spring breaks working alongside alums, and Molly’s staying at my place through next week and working at the DMN.
I was a little worried about Molly — not because of anything about her, but because the program she’s in doesn’t have the best track record with me. Last time I hosted an intern, back in Toledo, we didn’t get along; she seemed deeply uninterested in doing the work we gave her, and no one was particularly sad to see her head back to campus.
Plus, those of you who’ve been to my apartment know it’s not conducive to privacy. It’s a two-story loft-style place, with no walls separating anything. So she can hear my every cough and IM ding, and vice versa. This is new to me: I’m an only child, and even in college, because of stupendous luck, I had a roommate for only one of my eight semesters. Living with another human being, even for just a couple of weeks, feels strange.
Luckily, Molly and I clicked right away. She’s exactly the kind of girl I would have been friends with back in college. I don’t even feel nervous leaving her alone in my apartment while I’m gone today — I just hope she doesn’t find the goat sacrifice altar in the basement.
One of the benefits of living in Dallas in March: a lot of the bands headed for SXSW (the music festival, not the geekfest I was at last weekend) stop off here on the way. So Friday night it’s Luna (the best band to ever come out of Harvard, not to mention home of the world’s hottest 38-year-old bassist/former cartoon rock star) at the Ridglea in Fort Worth. Saturday night, two favorites are in town, Clem Snide (co-winner of the coveted crabwalk.com Album of the Year prize) and Girls Against Boys. Not sure which one I’ll go to. Clem Snide’s a great sort of alt-country-meets-overeducated-smarmy-college-boys-who-nonetheless-write-great-songs act (“Oh,” you say, “another one of those darned ACMOSCBWNWGS acts”). Girls Against Boys ranks a little lower on my musical Great Chain of Being, but they’d probably be a lot more fun live. They’re a great aggro-techno sex-crazy band, almost self-mockingly so. If anyone has suggestions on what to choose, offer ‘em up.
I know I promised more SXSW dish yesterday – it’s coming, rest assured. The thumbnail sketch: great to meet some wonderful people; the panels themselves were useless self-love fests. I’ve still got Kickball sunburn on my cheeks.
The Ann Coulter Memorial Prize for Right-Wing Restraint: Tory nut Rich Lowry suggests nuking Mecca. “Few people would die and it would send a signal.”
Back in Dallas from SXSW. More to come.
Excellent piece on the “liberal bias” of the media. Jonathan Chait gets it almost exactly right.
I’m off to Austin. Smell you later, gator.
To all my journalist friends anxiously awaiting the end of the recession to get hired somewhere else: don’t read this link. Waaaay too depressing.
Stolen shamelessly from Kottke (who stole it with as little shame from bitterpill.org): world’s greatest safety video.
Displeasure, animosity, anger, wrath, ire, indignation, exasperation, vexation, bitter resentment, wrathful indignation.
Grrr.
Stayed out far too late last night to see the Dismemberment Plan and Death Cab for Cutie last night in Fort Worth with Matt, the newly redesigned Erica, and non-blogger Vikas. (Last night was sort of a trial run for the eventual merger of my blog and non-blog worlds. Vikas handled it admirably, I thought.)
It was my first show at the Ridglea Theater, so it was a surprise to hear how bad the sound was. With Death Cab, that’s almost acceptable, since their sound is pretty consistent and if you just mike up the guitars, it still sounds nice. (Even though lead singer Ben Gibbard compared the show to “playing in a high school gym.”) But with the Plan, you really need better sound for the keyboard-heavy tracks. You wouldn’t think there were any keyboard-heavy D-Plan tracks from last night. (I’m a little concerned about the Luna show there next week — that’s another band that really needs good sound.)
But enough bitching — it was a great show. Travis from the Dismemberment Plan was more spastic than usual, which was fun. And they seemed to be in a punkier state of mind than usual, which would explain rocking out to some unusual early selections from the D-Plan canon. (Yeah, I’ve seen them all of one other time, so I’m an expert on their usual “state of mind.”) Death Cab was calmer, but their sounds transfered well into the setting, in a head-nodding kind of way.
In all, I agree with Erica, that it was great to see a bunch of talented musicians having a blast on stage. Two very fun bands I can recommend to you when they come to your town. The show gets the official crabwalk.com seal of approval.
Newish music I’ve been enjoying the last few weeks:
DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist, Product Placement (two hip-hop geniuses come together, Shadow from his solo work, Quannum, UNKLE, etc., Cut Chemist from Jurassic 5, Ozomatli, and others; not quite as brilliant as it should be, but would be top-notch if it were created by mere mortals)
The Avalanches, Since I Left You (best Australian dance record ever? unless the Kylie back catalog’s got an unexpected gem, yes. listen to the whole album online here)
Beulah, The Coast Is Never Clear (indie rock as updated ’60s orchestral pop; better than expected, particularly if you like a little horn in your rawk)
Forgot to link to a front-page story on Saturday: Oilman’s UT gift biggest of its kind. (This is the story my cable guy overheard me talking about.)
Ah, it is truly amazing what two days off can do for a man. For the record, my last day off was Feb. 3.
Just learned a great Texas phrase for saying something similar to “Isn’t this statement obviously true?”: “Is a hog’s butt pork?” I’m becoming more Texan every day.
Giants 2B Jeff Kent breaks his wrist while washing his pickup truck, will miss 4-6 weeks. Kent’s my least favorite player on my favorite baseball team.
Remember the story I linked to about a month ago, about the “child genius” who might not have been all his mom cracked him up to be? Well, Mom’s admitted faking her son’s IQ tests, as part of an (ill-conceived?) plan to get him back from the authorities who took him away from her. “Ms. Chapman said that last week, she told her son what she had done. ‘He was so forgiving when I told him the truth,’ Ms. Chapman said. ‘He gave me a hug and said, “I understand.”’”
FYI, now that I’m all broadband and stuff, I plan to be available for IMing for the first extended period in my existence. I’m crabwalkjb on AIM.
The DFW musical highlight of the year is fast approaching, the Dismemberment Plan/Death Cab for Cutie show at the Ridglea Theater Tuesday night. (There’s also a D-Plan profile in this week’s Observer.) Who wants to come with?
Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today I have broadband Internet at home. I can’t decide which is more life-changing, brushing up against Katarina Witt or this.
The cable guy doing the install overheard me talking to my boss about a story that’ll be on the front page tomorrow. “Yeah, I think we should just say it’s $150 million and leave it at that,” I said. “It could be closer to $200 million, but let’s be safe and call it $150 million.” As soon as I hung up, the cable guy asked, “Excuse me, but what line of business are you in, exactly?” I had evidently sounded like a big dealmaker.
A few photos from SLC may be making their way onto this site this evening, if I judge them non-humiliating enough.
Joshua Benton is the director of the Nieman Digital Journalism Project at Harvard University, among other things. Before that, he was a staff writer and columnist for The Dallas Morning News. (More.)
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