The fearsome Kim du Toit and his band of merry men will be right down the road from me tomorrow:

The Shooting Trail will be errrr shooting with the Commanche Valley Vigilantes tomorrow (Saturday June 17th and, time permitting, on Sunday as well).

I’ve always wanted to go to one of these, and even worse, participate in one. Another damn hobby doesn’t fit, though, unless & until I sell this dumb gravel pit. I might mosey over, though, and see if anybody has anything on offer. I’m itching to get my hands on a .44 mag cowpoke pistola. And then, of course, I’d have to get the .44 mag lever action from Henry or some-such. And then, of course, I’d never get to go out and do it, because I’d be busy futzing with this, that or the other that fills up this modern life.

Know what I’d like to have right this minute? A lever action .22lr for plinking.

R. Alex is moving back to Texas. Red Austin, specifically. And with a bride. Welcome back, bud.

Slampo’s Place, while parsing the explosion of Houston-living Pakistanis running for local office, snipes at the local paper:

Khan has been on the Carnival case for a while, Zen T. C. Zheng reports, having protested the club’s liquor license with the TABC back in January. Hopefully he can continue that work after Tuesday. (And by the way, why was this story relegated to the zoned weekly “community news” section of the Chronicle? It seems to have all the elements for a great story, or for a take from a local columnist, if the paper had one who actually lived in Houston: the hallowed Houston right to do what the hell you want with your property vs. less hallowed notions of greater community good, shifting demographics, changing neighborhoods, multiculturalism and diversity and blah blah, dancing and firearms and cowboy hats and blaring Latino music … oh, yeah—somebody might want to read that.)

I think Houston should be the first place awarded a Pegasus News franchise. They have all those great writers down there.

I’ve seriously had it with you bozos.

Country Music Television will air a preview of a proposed reality show based on Kinky Friedman’s independent run for Texas governor.

The music network will show two half-hour pilot episodes of “Go Kinky” on Wednesday. The episodes are set to premiere in early 2006 and could lead to a TV series.

Read it and weep, people. Everything is a damn teevee show, and teevee is everything.

Sent to me by faithful reader, Kevin.

For those of you who’ve just finished up Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men (which I highly recommend), and are interested in something vaguely similar, here’s a really good choice, and it’s non-fiction. One Ranger, by Joaquin Jackson — he of the world-famous Texas Monthly cover.

I grabbed this one while waiting in line at the Border’s the other day, as an afterthought. After I finished another low-grade techno-thriller airport-trash novel last night early, I pulled it out of my bag and opened it up for a preview. Suffice to say that it was very late when I finally put it down for the evening. So far, it’s really enjoyable. Mr. Jackson wrote it with the help of some dude name of David Wilkinson, but it’s all written in the first-person. It’s got that unique flair for language that I would expect to hear from a lawman born in the Great Depression who patrolled the Texas-Mexico border. So far, it’s a series of vignettes about his growing-up years and the family he was born into, and how he got into law enforcement. After 63 pages, he’s now a new Texas Ranger, and getting his first dose of life on the border. I’m obviously looking forward to the rest of the book. And about those 63 pages: I generally read a page per minute. Not this one, though…it’s dense. But it clips along and you don’t even notice that you’re not turning pages as fast as you usually do. Some good pictures are included that help bring home what kind of places West and South Texas are, and the type of people it takes to live here. Not being the type to look ahead, I’m eagerly anticipating more of the same.

Anyhoo, like I say, it’s a premature review, but I think anyone from Texas would probably enjoy this one. I’d recommend it to any law enforcement history buff, too. If I remember, I’ll write a wrap-up when I finish it, but don’t count on it.

What the hell is the matter with people?

A review of Mr. Earle’s campaign-finance filings in Texas shows that he has received contributions from the AFL-CIO, including a $250 donation on Aug. 29, 2000. He also has received contributions listed on the disclosure forms only as coming from the name of an incorporated entity, often a law firm.
Mr. Earle has said repeatedly that state law bars corporate and union contributions. Attempts to reach Mr. Earle yesterday for comment, including a phone message left on his assistant’s voice mail detailing Mr. DeLay’s charge, were unsuccessful.

Every time I read another new story about Racin’ Ronnie Earle, my gut tells me he’s fookin’ flake who’s been charmed by the klieg lights and rolling cameras. I half-expect a “Great-grampaw’s ghost told to me do this…” any day now, and then he shows us the closet full of Kleenex boxes and mason jars with his fingernail clippings.

From McGeehee.

I’ve heard of jurisdiction shopping, but I’ve never heard of grand jury shopping:

A Travis County grand jury last week refused to indict former U.S. House Majority Leader Tom DeLay as prosecutors raced to salvage their felony case against the Sugar Land Republican.

In a written statement Tuesday, Travis County District Attorney Ronnie Earle acknowledged that prosecutors presented their case to three grand juries — not just the two they had discussed — and one grand jury refused to indict DeLay. When questions arose about whether the state’s conspiracy statute applied to the first indictment returned last Wednesday, prosecutors presented a new money-laundering charge to second grand jury on Friday because the term of the initial grand jury had expired.

What a dipstick. That ham sandwich must have been pretty ragged by the end of this, what with all that racing around. He even failed to file the No Bill. He’s sure making Texas DAs look bad. Or the voters of Travis Cty., who just adore Racin’ Ronnie.

I said, it’s 16 feet high and rising:

The idiots can’t manage to release all this water in a controlled manner that would go a long ways toward maintaining a VERY healthy Brazos River, so they just dump it all at once. You see, controlling it would mean that the Richie Riches living lakeside in Granbury would have their motor-yachts riding a foot higher at the dock and possibly rubbing new marks on them. Bastards.

How’s that look on the ground? Oh, it’s where people were camping 24 hours ago:

I’m sure it will be back to the usual bath-tub warm trickle for Labor Day Weekend, when the hard-working citizens of Texas might have an opportunity to actually enjoy a decent tube or canoe run down the gawddammed river that they own.

Tribute to White Trash

I think I saw myself in there.*

Thanks to the Iggster, which, I’m not going to look too hard at why he sent the link to me…

* If anyone knows how to capture that, I’d appreciate the tip.

I’ve never seen one of these and I want one right now:

Well, none of us have responsibility for reforming the world. But defending oneself proactively against the Comfortably Numb is getting harder all the time, because of the packed-in conditions in which many of us live.

My only complaint with Francis’ post is the reference material…the Hummer is a rare sight at the Wal-Mart. And I’m there every weekend, most times twice. The subject behaviour is 100x more likely to occur in the neo-rich and/or pseudo-hip environs that spring up in big cities. It’s certainly generally manifested in the freshly-unchained, usually by dint of marriage but sometimes thanks to rich old Paw-paw, to the distaff citizens. I can’t think of a good, catchy name right now, so let’s just call her North Dallas Nina.

And make no mistake — there is a significant portion of the male populace driving around, clogging up the lines, hollering into their cell phones, too. You can easily spot them by the amount of product glopped onto their head, generally used to fake bedhead. Except that it glistens in a way that true bedhead never could. I had the misfortune of having one of these doofs as a boss for 90 days. I’m sure he’s supping at his stroke-ridden daddy’s table today, counting down the minutes till Pater kicks it and the mahogany wing-chairs are his. Gawd knows he didn’t know the first thing about selling high tech.

The stupid central air I put in last month here at the deer cabin has not shut off since noon. It is very loud. I am losing my mind.

Rather than closing in December and January, I should close down in July and August. Nobody wants to spend the night outside, unless they’ve never done it before. Or they’re young they and just want to wahoo. Which is really only fun if you have a large fire for someone to fall into, and that’s not possible. It’s basically a tinderbox (a term that probably nobody understands except in the abstract) here, even with an inch of rain in the last two weeks. Therefore, the county has a burn ban in effect, so no campfires.

If I did shut down, though, all I would do is laze around in the quiet AC in my dark Dallas cave on a broke-down couch watching crappy teevee and doinking away on a stoopid peecee, and my back would hurt more than it does.

I guess, as a Texan, I am somewhat required to address this Kinky Friedman for Guvner business. OK, here goes. Can we please just ignore him? He’s selling books. And not very good books, unless you like a lot of casual drug use in your murder mysteries, which I don’t — I like a lot of drunks, practicing, recovering or otherwise, in my murder mysteries…but casual drug use is very junior year of high school. He’s also selling records, I guess, if you can still get them. Don’t know, don’t care, because his music to my ears is mostly novelty crap. He’s maybe got some good Guvnor ideas, most of them wrapped around this “de-wussification” theme, but honestly, anybody seriously supporting Kinky for Guv is probably responsible, through their voting record, for the initial wussification of our great state in the first place, so, like…late to the party, peeps. Too late, by my reckoning.

In the short run, I guess it’s kind of funny and harmless. In the long run, what worries me, is the non-stop influx of yankees who might just jump on this bandwagon with their new Tony Lamas and their Escalades and Cadillac pick-ups and actually elect this man. Mind you, I’m not up at night fretting over this bit of theatre, but stranger things have happened. We elected Ann Richards not a few years ago, didn’t we?

Important point: I don’t know, because I don’t have the energy to care, what my fellow Texans think, except in the most abstract or the most individual sense. I am so very out of touch with most humans anyway. Regardless, they should all be listening to me, and voting accordingly, that’s what I think. If everybody would just listen to me, everything would be fine.

This useless bit of political baloney brought to you by Banjo Jones, who has informed me that Kinky has hired Dick DeGuerin as an adviser. Actually, that makes sense…neither is a stranger to self-promotion, and that’s what this whole enchilada is about. And fix your permalinks, there, Banjo…

From the Front Burner:

To whom it may concern:

The location at 2724 Greenville Avenue @ Vickery has been a neighborhood restaurant since 1972. The landlord of this historic building has decided NOT TO RENEW any leases at this location after over 70 years of business on the avenue. Their plan is to demolish the building and rebuild a bank in its place. We have until Dec. 31, 2005 at this location. John’s Cafe has been a place for good food, good friends and has added to the spirit and charm of the neighborhood. Its more than just a business, its a “home” to many who have been loyal customers throughout the years. Our future plans are to relocate to another location in the area if possible.

If this is a story that might be of interest to your magazine please feel free to let us know or please forward it to someone that could be interested. We would greatly appreciate it. Thank you.

One reason for the sadness — John’s was a genuine, greasy-spoon, good-eats diner. Too much hipster invasion when I quit going, but that happens. But no, the main reason is that my grandfather sold John that lease as part of closing down his operation. Before it was John’s, it was Here ‘Tis Hamburgers, known in the family as #3 (third store he opened in the chain). I bussed the tables, swept and mopped the floor, wiped down the counters, washed dishes, emptied the trash and pulled sodas and shakes there for my granddad, generally while my mom was out running errands for him and my dad where she didn’t need (or want) a kid hanging around. Also when he was generous enough to put up with me for a few hours so I could earn a little pocket change for comic books or other kid-crap.

The truly shocking thing is that John’s has been there since 1972. That means my granddad sold it when I was 12 years old. But, but, but…it seems like yesterday in my head that I was doing all those things. I can still see every inch of that place, and I can still see the route I used to take riding my Schwinn over to the #1 Here ‘Tis on Henderson. I can still see Denny standing at the register in his tie and sweater ringing up customers and barking out orders and Mom walking in with five gallons of home-made potato salad. Sure sucks getting old…sure does.

Fried Pie Alamode - 55¢

I guess next they’re gonna shut down the Sanger-Harris stores or something really crazy.

I should stay away from quoting Lefty blogs, but this snippet is far too rich (recommend reading the entire post, too, for a look at what’s the haps in Marfa these days):

But some ranches are coming back and it’s all because they’ve gotten into the business of raising organic beef–yep, they’re making a living off urban enviromentalist types who are wary of factory farmed meat. Too bad the initiative to get the ranchers into this market was completely rancher-driven or else a few minds might have been changed on the subject of whether or not urban liberals give a shit about the working man.

Someone tell me I’m reading this wrong. Ranchers identify need in market, ranchers work to fill that need in market, thus enriching ranchers, but it’s a crying shame that urban liberals didn’t discover the markets first so that they could tell the ranchers how to raise cattle and thus gain legitimacy in the eyes of the ranchers? That’s the complaint? Yes, I think it is.

I’ll even go so far as to say that the urban liberals do give a shit about the working man — the urban liberals opened up their beaks and squawked Feed me! Feed me!, and the ranchers did. Just to pound my point home unnecessarily: market need arises, market identified by producers, market met to the satisfaction of all. Probably a bigger question to be asked is — do the ranchers give a shit about the urban liberals? Answer: of course they do…they’re customers; at least until the UIs move on to the next fad, and stop buying their product. At which point the organic beef ranchers will go back to factory/feedlot ranching. Or whatever it takes to make a market. But it very definitely won’t be an egghead that comes along and pre-fabs a market and tells the producers how to make it.

Feel free to extrapolate this to just about any market that exists on this earth today. Maybe not fashion, though — the 3-button suit & the return of square-toed brogans are still a headscratcher for me. Probably a Euro thing.