Talk about sour grapes. A few months ago, two new free daily “newspapers” launched in Dallas: the awkwardly named A.M. Journal Express (founded by an ex-Dallas Morning News exec) and Quick (published by the DMN itself).
They were pretty similar: Both were attempts to attract rushed non-readers with a speedy summary of the day’s news. Quick was more targeted at younger (18-34) readers, was flashier, and did a better job on pop culture and entertainment. It also had one big edge: It could repurpose DMN stories, which made up most of Quick’s content and gave it much better local coverage.
The A.M. Journal Express wasn’t as attractive (although it did feel more like a newspaper than Quick’s magaziney style). It had next to zero local reporting; what little it did came from the AP wire or from its staff of a couple reporters. (On the Google cache of Friday’s AMJE, there are 20 stories listed. Only one is written by an AMJE reporter — the rest are all wire. Even the Dallas Mavericks playoff stories are wire.)
Plus, Quick had the financial resources of a major media corporation behind it. A.M. Journal Express was launched by American Consolidated Media, which owns a few small community papers.
Anyway, you can see why Quick might have a few advantages in the marketplace. And it’s questionable whether a city like Dallas could support one of these minipapers — much less two of them. (It’s primarily a distribution question — without home delivery, free papers really only work in markets with lots of people using public transit, whose stations can serve as distribution points and whose buses/trains can serve as reading time. Dallas is a freeway town all the way.)
So it’s not surprising to anyone that A.M. Journal Express was apparently shut down today. (Their web site is already dead.)
I had a lengthy post written here about the absurdity of what AMJE CEO Jeremy Halbreich claimed were the causes of his publication’s demise. (He seems to blame a brutal, brown-shirted phalanx of Belo thugs roaming the streets of Dallas, dealing ink-stained injustice to anyone who dares to cross its path.) But then I realized it would be linked by the D Magazine blog, and I don’t want the Dallas media pub. So I think I’ll stick to my general policy of avoiding DMN commentary here.
All I’ll say is this: Dallasites, did you know any devoted A.M. Journal Express readers? I’d guess no. There’s your reason, Jeremy.
(Full disclosure: I led the initial concept design team for what would become Quick over a year ago.)
30 April 2004 |
6 comments
Anil points to this list, which claims to rank the 100 largest cities in the United States by population.
Scanning the list brings up all the cities you’d expect, in roughly the order you’d expect (New York, L.A., Chicago, Houston, etc.), until you get to No. 14: Hempstead, New York, population 755,924.
Hempstead, New York?
I’ve never heard of Hempstead. Growing up, I was a geography geek. (Aside: Growing up, I was every kind of geek. But I was, nonetheless, a geography geek.) I used to read the population tables in the World Almanac for fun. I remember that New Orleans was just a hair ahead of Jacksonville in the 1980 census, and I remember thinking it was unfair that Jacksonville was 759.7 square miles in size, versus only 199.4 square miles for New Orleans. It was like Jacksonville was cheating or something. But the point is that I paid attention to city population counts. I knew my Rochester from my Raleigh and Richmond, my St. Paul from my St. Petersburg and St. Louis.
And I’ve never heard of Hempstead. Google tells me it’s a Long Island suburb, home of Hofstra. How could I have missed it all these years?
But…here’s a World Almanac list of the 10 largest cities in New York according to the 2000 census. NYC, Buffalo, Rochester, Yonkers — all represented. But Hempstead is nowhere to be found! The 10th-biggest city on the list is wussy Utica, population 60,651 — less than a tenth of what Hempstead claims. And yet the big H is unrepresented.
And…here’s a list of the largest 243 cities in the country, direct from the U.S. Census Bureau. Again, no Hempstead!
My keen journalistic spidey sense is tingling! Perhaps Hempstead doesn’t exist! Perhaps it is a figment of some warped census-taker’s imagination! Perhaps Hempstead is where Osama is hiding!
Further evidence: this site, which claims Hempstead has only 56,000 residents.
Sadly, this PDF clears it up somewhat. Apparently, NYC, Buffalo, Rochester, etc. are counted as cities by the census bureau, while Hempstead is just a “town.” A 755,000-person “town.” (Brookhaven, Islip, Oyster Bay, and North Hempstead are all also alleged “towns” with 200,000-plus people.) So I guess, for some reason, towns like Hempstead don’t count for census ranking purposes. Why that is I couldn’t guess. I mean, it’s not unincorporated — it has a town government and everything.
In any event, I think al-Qaeda is involved.
29 April 2004 |
6 comments
The inflation of the American dream:
“I don’t want kids. I don’t want 2.1 children and a white picket fence and a mini-van. I like my life how it is. Still…”
“But then they managed to do it anyway, and they got married in a big, gay church and then they all lived happily ever after in a house with a white picket fence, a minivan, and 2.2 children…god please just let it end now please please please… WHY???”
“Asian Man: You will grow up to have 2.3 children, live behind a white picket fence and drive two domestic cars that get bad gas mileage. Twinkie Boy: Yes. I will.”
“We usually remember the 50s as the movies present it, America’s golden decade, a time when Elvis was king, baseball was America’s pastime, and everyone had a white picket fence and 2.4 children.”
“Women often dream of the “big white wedding,” the “house with the white picket fence,” the 2.5 children, etc., etc. Don’t do this! The image is fine, but it leads to unreasonable expectations.”
“There are plenty of good people who live lives of prevailing middle-class standards — a white picket fence, 2.6 children, and all that — and who are certainly individuals, with their own unique stories and their own unique lives.”
“Today I am feeling maternal – this from a woman who cannot make her own bed – what a great role model. Today I want a white picket fence, 2.7 children, a puppy – and for a note of discord, I want my puppy to be a big-assed rottweiler.”
“Work 9 to 5, Monday through Friday. Enjoy your weekend. Aspire for the white picket fence, the 2.8 children, the dog and the new car. Graduate and find yourself behind the counter of a fast food restaurant.”
Total Google search results for “white picket fence” and “2.x children”:
2.1: 5
2.2: 20
2.3: 67
2.4: 52
2.5: 276
2.6: 1
2.7: 3
2.8: 1
2.9: 0
For what it’s worth, the average American household with children has 1.89 children. Total Google search results for “white picket fence” and “1.89 children”: 0. For “1.8 children”: 0. For “1.9 children”: 0.
29 April 2004 |
1 comment
Elise, crabwalk.com’s official ambassador to the wild and woolly world of TV news, points out this tale of Cajun revitalization:
LAFAYETTE, La. — It’s not unusual to hear Cajun French spoken in restaurants and shops, or at local gatherings. But now, residents can hear the language on their nightly news, too.
KATC-TV has begun airing a summary of its weather forecast in Cajun French at 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. each weeknight…
“People still aren’t using it as much as they should be, but if we want our children to speak French, this is what we have to do,” [Lucille Briscoe, who reads the French weather] said. “We have to keep speaking it and practicing.”
It’s a nice blow for the language, but it’s also a response to market forces — there are still a lot of old folks around who don’t speak English. (My great-grandmother died in 1988 and didn’t speak a word of it.)
One thing the article doesn’t mention: KATC isn’t the first local station to pursue French-speaking viewers. For over 40 years, most early-bird Cajuns have started the day with Passe Partout, the morning show on KLFY. While I doubt there’s as much French content as there used to be, they do still broadcast a Catholic rosary in French at 5 a.m. and do the news in French at 5:30.
When I was younger, Passe Partout used to feature a lot of live Cajun music — no idea if they still do. Jim Olivier became a minor local legend for his long stint on Passe Partout; Bob Moore, who also runs Acadian Village, handles the Francophone duties now.
Bonus KATC knowledge: The station is generally credited with inventing the term “Acadiana” to describe Cajun country.
28 April 2004 |
1 comment
Here’s my story from today’s front page, on the circles of hell awaiting the roughly 100,000 high school juniors who will fail this week’s TAKS tests. (They’re the first class of Texas students who have to pass the TAKS in order to graduate. A whole heapin’ bunch of them won’t.)
27 April 2004 |
1 comment
Notes from a SweeTart addict. “Since I’m being open about my obsession I suppose I should really come completely clean.”
I do think he underrates both the Giant Chewy SweeTarts and Shock Tarts, however. Okay, Giant Chewy SweeTarts actually are disgusting. But Shock Tarts were the bomb for a couple years there.
26 April 2004 |
1 comment
My first appearance in U.S. News & World Report. Well, sorta. (Second item.) Is USN a Bush house organ or something? A group of reporters laughing at jokes about the politicians they cover? Shocking!
26 April 2004 |
No comments
FYI, I’ll be on TXCN all evening talking about testing. Should be on the front page tomorrow morning, too. (Actually, all day. We haven’t put out an afternoon edition in a looong, long time.)
26 April 2004 |
No comments
Three reasons all Dallasites reading this should, sometime in the next few days, eat at Zaguan, the Latin American bakery on Oak Lawn:
- The chicken cachapas, a kind of Venezuelan corn pancake stuffed with chicken and a cheese of undetermined origin, are supertasty. With a side of plantain chips, it’s the best comfort food this side of crawfish etouffee.
- It’s one of my favorite places in town, but it’s almost never busy. Your presence may someday be needed as a cushion against business failure.
- NEW REASON! On a trip there yesterday, I discovered their cuatro leches dessert. Oh. My. Goodness.
You probably know from tres leches cake, the delicious Latin specialty with the mouth-watering, impossibly moist texture. If you’ve been to La Duni (my absolute favorite restaurant in Dallas, a more upscale, Argentine-steak focused Latin place), you may have had their cuatro leches cake, which counts a dulce de leche sauce as the mysterious fourth leche. (That last link is a PDF of their recipe.)
I loooooove La Duni’s cuatro leches cake. But sometimes you don’t want the full La Duni experience. (Actually, I can’t remember ever not wanting the full La Duni experience. But I digress.) Sometimes you just want something quick. That’s where Zaguan’s cuatro leches comes in. It’s barely a cake, really — it’s a cake reduced to its bare essentials, almost devoid of structure. (Zaguan serves it in a bowl — it would have no chance of vertical survival without one. The thing’s almost liquid at times.) It really nails that mixture of cake texture on the micro level and sweet cream mouthfeel on the macro level. It’s almost like a condensed milk pudding.
(Yes, I did just use the word “mouthfeel” unironically.)
The best part of Zaguan’s cuatro leches: $2.95! Available to go! Seriously, people.
26 April 2004 |
4 comments
So I’m at my doc’s this morning. (Basic checkup, nothing major, don’t worry — no need to start prepping a crabwalk.com succession plan.) Anyway, my doc tells me he wants to check me out for a certain kind of drug-resistant staph infection. He says he’s been checking out all of his patients for it because “it seems like everybody’s got it in the community these days.”
Now, I live on the outskirts of Oak Lawn, Dallas’ predominantly gay neighborhood. My doctor’s office is smack in the middle of Oak Lawn. While no one likes to truck in stereotypes, I’d be awfully surprised if my doctor isn’t gay — not that there’s anything wrong with that! I mean, the man has a pet poodle who roams the examination rooms. Big hoop earring in one lobe, a lisp — the man fits the image. And considering all the “specialists in HIV therapy” signs around the office, I’d have to assume that he serves a largely gay clientele.
So I had to think: When he says “the community,” does he mean “Dallas inside Loop 12”? (Unlikely.) Does he mean “the Cajun blogging community”? (Doubtful.) Or does he mean the gay community?
There’s no good way to bring this up. Should I off-handedly mention some past heterosexual adventure? Should I pick up the SI swimsuit issue (!) he had sitting in the examination room and start saying things like, “Boy, look at the ass on that one! I’d like to hit me some of that”? Should I fake a musical appreciation of, I don’t know, Travis Tritt?
I just blurted out: “Just for the record, I’m straight.”
Doc looked a little puzzled. He paused and said, “Oh.” Then he told me we wouldn’t need to go ahead with the test.
23 April 2004 |
3 comments
Always Low Prices, a generally positive blog about Wal-Mart. (It’s sort of a What We Talk About When We Talk About Wal-Mart.)
If you’re like most bloggers (or people I went to college with), I’m probably more pro-Wal-Mart than you are. If you’re like most people in my hometown, I’m probably less pro-Wal-Mart than you are.
21 April 2004 |
No comments
Why you should short Netflix. That said, they’ve done fine by me. A DVD they sent me got lost in the mail. I filled out a simple form on their site, and presto chango my account is credited. No grilling about DVD thievery, no assumption of my guilt.
Roy Orbison’s little known Confederate-spy period. Roy Orbison: Not blind, not albino.
I love it when journalists are willing to print obviously false statements just to give a story a feeling of “balance.” Take this story, for instance, about how a small Catholic college in Pennsylvania confiscated copies of the student paper because it featured a student column promoting condom use. Here’s the school’s P.R. guy:
“Ken Service, vice president for institutional relations, said La Roche [College] was not trying to stifle student expression or interfere with the campus press.”
Come on! You can argue the relative wisdom of confiscating pro-condom (ooh!) literature. But you can’t with a straight face say it isn’t “interfer[ing] with the campus press” or “stifl[ing] student expression.” It’s obviously those things. If you want to defend those actions, go to it. But don’t tell obvious falsehoods.
Have you seen Kill Bill Vol. 2 yet? (If not, you should. Quite entertaining, particularly in a large crowd, as I saw it Friday in S.F.) If you’re wondering where Tarantino got the black mamba information Daryl Hannah quotes in Budd’s trailer, this is it. “Their volatility is their greatest danger, particularly when cornered or surprised. East Africa’s famed snake expert C.J.P. Ionides cites a reliable account from Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia) of 11 people dying in a fracas between shepherds and a single black mamba. One mamba that Ionides captured had killed seven villagers at the same spot. She lived out her remaining years peaceably at the London Zoo.”
Finally, bravo to Julie Bykowicz, whoever she is, for her letter on Romenesko. She decries unpaid summer internships (in journalism, but by extension in all industries). Her point: Only rich kids can afford to work all summer and not get paid for it, so unpaid internships give unfair advantage to rich kids. As a poor kid who couldn’t afford the White House intern/Harper’s Magazine intern/whatever route, I can tell you she’s dead on. She cites this stat: “A survey at a summer intern lunch…in Washington in 1998 found that more than 60% of these mostly unpaid interns had parents earning more than $100,000 a year. Only about 20% of all families of college students earn that much.” So you’re taking only the richest of an already pretty well-off bunch.
Anyway, I’m back from San Francisco. A lovely week. After the conference, ended up roaming the streets until 5:30 a.m. Sunday morning. Went up to Napa, drove up to the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, then got to see Barry Bonds hit his 666th career home run. (Or, as I prefer to call it, his Satan homer.) Anyway, many thanks to the San Franciscans who put up with me, most notably providers-of-sleeping-space Jessa and Lisa.
Now, back to work.
21 April 2004 |
4 comments
It appears I had a story in today’s paper, on how 3,300 third-graders got ever so slightly screwed on the TAKS test this year. (Well, depends how you define “screwed,” I suppose.) If anyone with access to the paper could tell me where it ran, I’d be much appreciative.
15 April 2004 |
1 comment
Greetings from San Francisco. It’s a little drizzly, and I haven’t had a chance to venture beyond tourist-choked Fisherman’s Wharf yet today, but it’s good to be here. Had a lovely dinner last night with Jessa, Kristin, Kevin, Jane, MJ, and the sadly blogless Suzan, who collectively make up my West Coast Krew (415 Chapter). Today I got to enjoy the wonders of Caltrain, sample my first In-N-Out burger, try a place called Bob’s Sushi (a tactical error, I regret to report), and generally wandered around. Oh, and spent too much time in a Starbucks, soaking up wifi to finish a story for work. The edumacation excitement starts tomorrow.
14 April 2004 |
5 comments
Two notable additions to the KEXP streaming live archives: American Music Club (April 1) and Sea Ray (March 22).
(If you’re unfamiliar with KEXP’s live streams, the “Interview.rm” and “Interview.wma” files are the complete performance.)
Listen to the Sea Ray for a strong version of “Sister Gone” and to be amused at how much DJ John in the Morning kisses the band’s ass. (Deservedly, of course.) Listen to the AMC to be further convinced that their new album might actually be strong. (One exception: “Patriot’s Heart,” the tale of a gay male stripper with a smile in his underwear [!], sounds like a lyrical disaster in the making. Might work with Mark Eitzel’s vocals more in tune. Might.)
But in the interview, Mark sounds happier than I’ve heard him for a while, which is good to hear. It’s nice to hear him sounding upbeat after singing “Another Morning,” a song about his longtime muse Kathleen Burns. (MP3 here.) Kathleen was Mark’s ex-lover and inspiration for several AMC/Eitzel songs. She killed herself a few years back. Photo here (bottom of the page). If you want to read something heartbreaking, try this interview with Mark during one of his low moments. The interviewers didn’t know Kathleen had just died and started asking questions about her. (Scan for Kathleen’s name.)
By the way, two old AMC songs are now available on their web site: If I Had A Hammer (1993, one of my college faves) and Why Won’t You Stay (1991).
12 April 2004 |
1 comment
West Coast Alert: I leave tomorrow afternoon for a week in lovely San Francisco. (I’ll be at the Education Writers Association’s National Seminar. I’m even giving a talk on Friday afternoon, if you’re deeply interested in comparing teacher preparedness evaluation methodologies. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.)
While the conference will keep me busy for most of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, if any crabwalk.com are interested in grabbing a beer, just drop me a line.
Running note: I have tentative plans to run this 5K race in San Francisco on Saturday morning. A fine cause, I’m sure. If you’re interested in running with, let me know.
Running note the second: I have more certain plans to run the Fort Worth Zoo 5k the following Saturday, April 24. Nothing like sweating amongst the monkeys. If you’re interested in running with, &c.
Finally, is it just me or is it rude to name a whole class of animal lesser? It’s just a self-image problem waiting to happen.
12 April 2004 |
No comments
Here’s my column from today’s paper, on the push to shrink class sizes — and how smaller classes don’t have the academic impact you might expect.
12 April 2004 |
3 comments
Well, I have now officially run my first race: the 3.5-mile JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge.
Regular readers may remember that I started running for the first time in my life back in November, after getting back from Zambia. And while I’ve been regularly able to run 6-7 miles at a time, it’s all been indoors on a treadmill. There aren’t many races held indoor on a treadmill, though, and if I hope to meet my goal — a half-marathon less than three months away — I had to be able to run outdoors.
I actually finished without much of a problem, and with a slightly better time than I’d been hoping for, 32:26. That’s about a 9:15 pace, which is about a 2:01 half-marathon.
Then I remembered that there was a hold-up at the race’s start — I was kinda far back in the 5,000 runners and, as a result, didn’t even reach the starting line until about 30 seconds into the race. So I mentally reduced my time to 31:56.
Then I remembered that the first quarter-mile or so was still awfully crowded, forcing everyone around me to walk for certain portions. I figured that’s worth about another 56 seconds, so that drops me to 31:00 even.
Then I remembered that the temperature, while bearable, was slightly warmer than would be optimal. That certainly cost me another two minutes, dropping me to 29:00.
Then I remembered that the humidity was a touch high, and that there was one block where there was a strong, sudden breeze obstructing my natural path. While the breeze was only momentary, it messed with my head and, I believe, cost me about three minutes.
Then I remembered that all this trouble in Iraq has really been getting me down lately, and that the recent Fallujah uprising has prevented me from reaching my mental peak — my Zone, if you will — in preparation for this race. That’s six minutes right there.
Finally, I remembered that Elvis Presley had, in fact, a twin brother named Jesse who was stillborn, and that some have argued that Elvis’ musical abilities were inherited or transfered in some way from his dead twin. And I remembered that something similar must have happened to me, in reverse. I remembered that, while I was in fact not a twin, I was likely spiritually twinned to some other child on earth and that, in all likelihood, I had amazing, Olympic-caliber running ability that was mysteriously transfered to this spiritual twin upon our births, separated by some distance though they were. If I can ever find this spiritual twin and perform a ceremony of athletic reunion, I believe I shall be granted this amazing, Olympic-caliber running ability again. I don’t think the fact that I have not yet found this twin should be held against me. Therefore, that’s worth about nine minutes.
So, to conclude, I actually ran today’s race in 11:00 flat, a world-record 3:08 pace. So I think I did pretty well.
07 April 2004 |
6 comments
For a geek like me, this is just as scary as a loaded firearm. A couple quick swipes and my life goes away.
07 April 2004 |
1 comment
Some classic song titles on the new McLusky album, including:
1. Without MSG I Am Nothing
2. That Man Will Not Hang
4. Kkkitchens, What Were You Thinking?
5. Your Children Are Waiting For You to Die
6. Icarus Smicarus
8. You Should Be Ashamed, Seamus
10. Forget About Him, I’m Mint
11. 1956 and All That
12. Falco vs. the Young Canoeist
07 April 2004 |
1 comment
Adventures in Self-Delusion: I just loooove this excerpt from Karen Hughes’ new book, in which she discusses (gasp) leaks of information to the media:
“I don’t know how these kinds of leaks happen: I don’t think, as some of the critics do, that reporters make it up. The way reporters frame their stories sometimes shades or colors them, but I do not believe that most of the journalists I know fabricate news. Someone gives them the information…But the use of unnamed sources has become a convenient way for too many political operatives to hide and avoid accountability for their statements…I hope that thoughtful members of the journalistic community will consider dramatically reducing their reliance on anonymous sources; it would be healthy for American democracy to put it on the record.”
Puh-leeze. I’m all for a healthy critique of anonymous sourcing. But Karen Hughes? A former TV reporter herself, saying she doesn’t know where these crazy journalists come up with these things? The amazing condescension of “I don’t think…that reporters make it up”? As if she’s never been the “senior administration official” cited in a leak? Calling on reporters to put things on the record when her administration has been one of the (if not the) most secretive in American history? Balderdash, I say.
06 April 2004 |
No comments
I hope you’ll excuse one moment of stupid, annoying alma mater pride: Woo hoo! It’s a dumb, vaguely offensive competition, I know. But it’s better to win than to lose.
Over the years, I’ve done admissions interviews for four high school seniors who have applied to Yale (a la this story I wrote in February). Not a one has gotten in. Then again, I suppose if the acceptance rate is 9.9 percent, I’d need to interview six more kids just to get the odds of an acceptance in my favor.
05 April 2004 |
No comments
Huge congratulations to my old colleagues at The Toledo Blade, who won the highest award in journalism today: the Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting. The Blade is one of the few newspapers of its size (140,000 daily circulation) that is willing to put significant resources into investigations like these, and for that it should be congratulated and honored. (The Blade was also a finalist for the investigative Pulizer in 2000.) Special congrats to my former partner in crime Mike Sallah.
In case you have ever had occasion to doubt my predictive powers, I point you to this November entry: “[P]rops to Mike Sallah and Mitch Weiss at my old non-college paper for writing a series on Vietnam war crimes that will in all likelihood win a Pulitzer Prize. My only regret: If I was still in Toledo, I know I’d be getting a piece of that Pulitzer. Mike and I were the go-to p. 1 projects team for my last year there.”
Not that I’m bitter that coming to the Dallas Morning News — which seemed like a no-brainer career move — in all likelihood meant losing a Pulitzer Prize. No, not bitter at all.
The Dallas Morning News also won a Pulitzer today, in breaking news photography. Congrats to David and Cheryl, two extraordinarily talented people I’ve had the pleasure to work with on several occasions. Here are the winning photos.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the bathtub, slitting my wrists.
05 April 2004 |
4 comments
Last week, I posted a paean to mid-’80s sitcom It’s Your Move. Quoting this episode summary, I made reference to “Matthew’s idiot buddy Eli (Adam Jay Sadowsky).”
(Eli, you see, was supposed to hire the band Morning Breath for a school dance, but he loses the money. As a result, show hero Matthew [Jason Bateman] has to invent a new band, the Dregs of Humanity. Much hilarity ensues.)
Anyway, what should my referrer logs tell me but the fact that Adam Jay Sadowsky has a web site and (since this is 2004) has a blog. From the site we learn Adam is a left-leaning hippopotami lover and can script in Perl, Python, and Tcl. He seems to have adjusted into a perfectly normal techie.
But best of all, you can hear, in glorious stereo sound, Eli is GOD (4.2 megs), an ode to Adam’s It’s Your Move character performed by a band called Amygdala: The Nocturnal Burrito. It even features audio from the show! Surely, a classic.
I just landed in Seattle — expect sporadic (if any) postings through Monday.
02 April 2004 |
No comments
Best life summary (from a personal web page I won’t link to in order to avoid shaming the author):
I have been sky diving, went exploring on an archeological dig, helped fly the Good Year Blimp, learned to belly dance, canoed the Connecticut River, and hiked part of the Application Trail. This is just a snap shot of my life and I’m still young so I plan to have an amazing list by them time I’m old.
01 April 2004 |
1 comment
This will be keeping me very busy in the coming months.
This is where I’ll be tomorrow through Monday.
This is a snapping turtle.
01 April 2004 |
1 comment
