This Joke Is "Desafinado"

Yet another music joke, once again courtesy of my fraternity listserv:

There once was a man named Opper Nockatees, who was a travelling piano
tuner. During the course of his travels, he came to a small village
that was full of very friendly people who made him feel welcome at once.
While standing outside of the village church, Opper Nockatees noticed
that the piano they were using in their services was badly out of tune.
As his gift to the people that had been so nice to him, he tuned
the piano in the church. The villagers had never heard the piano sound
so beautiful. Enthralled with the wonderful music coming from the
church, they played and played and played as though they couldn't get
enough of it.
Eventually, the piano went out of tune from overuse. The
villagers sent a committee to go down the road and catch up with Opper
Nockatees to bring him back to tune the piano again. When they found
him, the asked him and he refused. They begged him, for they had never
heard the piano sound so beautiful. Again he refused. When they asked
him why not, he replied, "Haven't you heard? Opper Nockatees only tunes
once."

UPDATE: If you don't get it at first, try reading the last sentence out loud.

OK, that was kind of a groaner compared to the one from last week. Have any of your own? Put 'em in the comments (and keep it clean; I do have students who read this, so I attempt to maintain a PG-13 blog over here).

A car powered this way would really "whiz" along: From Dave Barry's Blog, we get word of a new battery that is powered by urine. Once you get past the "eww" factor, you have to admit that it would be a cheap source of renewable energy. Granted, it would change the whole concept of filling stations--they'd be pretty much a set of private little bays where you could, umm, fill up again, and I bet the adjacent convenience store would make a killing on drinks so that drivers could have more "fuel" for later.

There Is Such a Thing As a Free Lunch...If I Can Get There

Regular blogging will be delayed one day due to an unexpected snag in my teaching schedule that needs to be resolved....but I do have to pass along a funny story.

On both of the Vermont trips that I've taken since I became a blogger, I've raved about a place in downtown Burlington called Henry's Diner. This past summer, on a whim, I put my business card in the little fishbowl they used for a drawing for a free dinner--just to be funny, since I live so far away from Burlington. Well, today I got an email telling me that I won!

I wrote them back asking how long they'd wait for me to redeem it, hoping that the answer would be at least until the next Burlington Discover Jazz Festival (yes, that's next June). Either that, or I need to win the lotto really soon, or talk some of my friends into a pretty substantial roadtrip.

With this blog, I thee wed: Last week, I made a joke about instituting "commenter dating" to go along with the new feature of "comment dating." Now, Eric has noted, in the comments to that post, that a couple here in Texas actually did get married by blog! What'll they think of next?

One More Lazy Weekend

Wow, I can't believe summer's over.

And yes, non-academics will argue that, according to the "regular" calendar, summer doesn't officially end until September 21 or something. But to us academics, equinoxes matter not; when the bell rings on the first day of school, the entity known as "summer" has ceased to exist. In light of that, besides playing in church this morning, I didn't do jack squat today.

So does school just start too early? Sure, the state legislature has been trying to tinker with the calendar for next year, forcing everyone to start after Labor Day. As you might know, I'm not in favor of that, since it would push final exams into January, so if you go back eighteen weeks from mid-December, you pretty much land...here. I guess there's not much we can do about it, besides eliminating every school holiday known to man...and I gotta tell ya, those holidays are nice.

I don't actually teach the first day of school, and this year, I'm not likely to even darken the hallway of a school tomorrow. Normally I'd go in and post my schedules and all that, but I've been pretty good about emailing the directors and reserving my practice rooms that way, and I also have email addresses for nearly every student and/or parent that I teach, so I'll notify that way. I'll still force myself to get up at six in the morning tomorrow, so that'll be a great time to send the emails. Besides with gas at $2.45 a gallon and rising, the less driving I can do, the better.

Last year I did an ode to summer on this day. I'm not sure if this entry will qualify as an ode...maybe a sonnet? (Is an ode longer than a sonnet? I have no clue, and I'm too tired to Google it.) So will I call it the "best summer ever" like I did a year ago? Meh. I'll just say it was a really, really good one. The trip to Vermont was excellent (to read about it, start here and scroll up in succession), both musically and in terms of seeing Really Cool Scenery. It was the busiest summer I've ever had, thanks to more students than ever, along with the addition of the summer combo. It was also the first summer that I didn't go broke (OK, I have 52 cents on me at the moment--the result of draining a Starbucks card to get my evening Frap tonight--but the money starts coming in during my post-school stuff tomorrow). I also made some great new friends and really strengthened the bond with some existing ones, so yeah, this one was good.

But the big break is over. Time to "edjamacate" the young'uns in full force and make the most money of the year. And when I come up for air...well, it'll be time for a blog post.

(An essay on the good and bad of summer-vs.-fall, from a year ago, can be found here.)

Move mania: A miniature "bon voyage" to Dingus, who moved into his new place in Arlington today. A bigger bon voyage to Houston, who moved to Austin (don't think about that one too much, OK?) Also, Coop is comfortably ensconced at his new school, and the UNT crowd has another week before they take off. It's that migratory time of year...

Stupid criminal of the week: Two guys robbed a popular TV host in Ft. Smith, Arkansas; unfortunately for them, they did so while he was on the air, seen by hundreds of viewers, some of whom called the cops.

Saluting a Local Legend

I enjoyed reading an article in the sports section today that "caught up" with Bill Mercer, the former longtime voice of athletics at my alma mater, UNT. Mercer has actually had a really varied career, working high school football, the Cowboys (as well as the AFL's Dallas Texans, before they left for Kansas City to become the Chiefs), the Rangers, for whom he was the original radio voice. But the gig that remains his claim to fame was hosting the program World Championship Wrestling from Dallas' Sportatorium, featuring the exploits of the legendary Von Erich family and their cohorts.

Bill was the play-by-play voice of North Texas athletics for 34 years, and for many of those years, he was a broadcasting instructor at UNT, helping develop the talents of such notables as ESPN's Dave Barnett, the Mavericks' Mark Followill, and The Ticket's Dunham and Miller--the last three being old radio colleagues of mine as well. (He was also the original station manager of KNTU, if memory serves.) Even though I was never a broadcasting student per se, I had the privilege of working with Bill from time to time, cutting some commercials for UNT football games and so on. Even though I was a music student who lucked his way into broadcasting, he treated me as nothing short of a professional, and I think he got me to excel in ways that I thought I never could. I also remember years of listening to away football games, and to him I give the highest compliment one can bestow upon a sports broadcaster: He made you feel like you were at the game.

Bill's nearly 80 years old now, and though his UNT stint ended quite some time ago, he's still in the business, doing weekend games for the Round Rock Express, the Astros' minor-league affiliate that's part-owned by Noaln Ryan. It's great to see him still in the game, because whatever game he's calling is better for it.

(Incidentally, the article says that he's the subject of a charity roast next week at UNT; I wonder if tickets are left.)

Spamalot II: I promise I won't do this every day, but I did get some oddly-titled spam again today...
Re: be open no lodging
He speak he undercover midday
Re: That go go sweet row
Re: so read an ethics

The funny thing is, it's almost always the exact same letter--an ad for a product that claims to help you lose body fat, reduce wrinkles, boost your energy level, and increase your muscle strength, sexual potency, emotional stability and memory. The "snake oil" of a hundred years ago has gone high-tech on us...

Oh nooooooooooo! Brace yourselves for the annual "crunch," fellow North Texans; according to today's paper, the crickets are here early this year.

This "Spamalot" Doesn't Have Monty Python Characters In It

I'm sure everyone has gotten these: the same generic spam (mostly for "cheap meds") that comes through several times a week. Lately, the "subjects" have been really funny, because they're just random words stuck together. Here are the ones I received today alone:

Re: It speak my often
Herbert is taking the plane [wow, a real sentence!--Ed.]
Have find or earl sinhalese
As study of rapist saxophone

That last one was bizarre; I never expected to get one with the word "saxophone" in it. (And you'd think that even the spammers would check their random word generator's output before sending things; wouldn't many people be offended by an email with the word "rapist" in the subject, even before they knew it was spam?)

Ever get any weird spam like that? Post the "subjects" in the comments.

That was the problem--he gave too much of his heart away already: A man wakes up from triple-bypass heart surgery to find that all three of his wives are waiting for him at the hospital. D'oh...

A little too "real" in this case: Last week, I wrote a post that touted the new, legal Real Books. It turns out there's a hazard to mixing the Sixth Edition with the old Fifth Edition on a gig: Not only have the mistakes been cleaned up, but some tunes have been returned to their original keys. Some friends of mine found that out tonight when they played "Cotton Tail," as the horns (with their Sixth Editons) were in Bb while the rhythm section (playing out of the Fifth) was in Ab. It was quite an unusual sound, needless to say. (Another one that's definitely off like that is "Blue Train," which was erroneously put in the old edition in C minor, while the Sixth Edition has it in Eb major like Trane did it.)

This Joke Will Probably Fall Flat

Back to serious blogging later...but tonight, a joke (aimed at my fellow musicians):

C, Eb, & G go into a bar.
The bartender says “Sorry, but I don’t serve minors in here," so the Eb left.
The C & G decided to open a fifth between them.

(Thanks to a brother named Joe, who posted this on our fraternity listserv today.)

This might sound like a joke, but isn't: A new world record was set in British Columbia last month, when 644 people played accordions simultaneously for half an hour.

Jazzin' the News

While reading my paper at dinner tonight, I couldn't help but notice that there were a lot of jazz stories:

• The Nesuhi Ertegun Jazz Hall of Fame, an offshoot of Jazz at Lincoln Center in New York, has announced this year's class of inductees, highlighted by Ella Fitzgerald and Benny Goodman. Others include Charles Mingus, Roy Eldridge, Joe "King" Oliver, Earl "Fatha" Hines, "Papa Jo" Jones and Fats Waller, as well as the first two living inductees, Sonny Rollins and Max Roach. (The Hall's namesake, Ertegun, was a pioneer in the jazz recording industry, working as an A&R man for Atlantic Records, founded by his brother Ahmet, who gained recent attention by being portrayed in the movie Ray.)


• Bassist Keter Betts, who passed away this week, is the subject of a moving tribute by the Washington Post's Eugene Robinson. Here's a key quote from the article:

  A great jazz number is evanescent; attempts to capture it on vinyl or magnetic tape, or to translate it into bits and bytes, are like putting a bird in a cage. Great jazz is meant to be performed live and appreciated live. When the music is gone, only memory can do it justice.

  Betts was one of those guys who was never a household name, but I promise you've heard his work; among other things, he recorded extensively with Ella Fitzgerald and returned from a South American trip infected with the rhythms that became the backbone of Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd's pioneering Jazz Samba recording.


• After months of fighting with its landlord and neighboring businesses over noise issues (about which I've written here a couple of times), the Brooklyn jazz cafe is moving to the Cedars area. I didn't get to visit Brooklyn in its old digs, but I hope to check out the new place (which will be substantially bigger) and maybe get my band a gig there someday.

Speedin' in Sweden: A Swedish insurance company is claming to be the first in its field to offer insurance against both speeding and parking tickets.

Another European guy in the doghouse: A driver in Germany accidentally backed over his wife in a parking lot; when he found out what he had done, he was so stunned that he managed to run over her again. (Miraculously, she survived.)

Cover Your Ears, I Anticipate Feedback...

All the news fit to blog, for the low, low price of free (and you can even talk back to me!):

• I was very happy to read this morning that the space shuttle landed safely. (My eyewitness account of Columbia disintegrating over Texas--without my realizing it at the time--can be found here.)


• I had lots of comments on the Raffy situation a while back; what does everyone think about Kenny Rogers' suspension getting lifted today?


• Last week's comment thread that won't die is up to 23 24 entries now, but today's post should knock it off the bottom of the page. Here's the permalink if you want to keep the thread going. (Jim P. points out the irony in having that many comments on a post that was entitled "Short and Random.")


• And finally, speaking of comments, I have enabled comment dating, as requested by several readers. Let me know what you think of the format I chose. (The other project, "commenter dating," which will allow single commenters on The Musings to meet up for a no-strings-attached lunch date, is still in the very early development stages.)

Taking the "Jonny Cat" concept a little too far, maybe: My cat, Tasha, has had some issues lately with missing her litterbox more often than not, but does anyone who's met her think that she'd ever go for this?

Blowing out the candles: Happy birthday to Lileks, one of my favorite bloggers...or, better put, one of my favorite writers, who just happens to blog.

The Top: 40 Hits

Despite the fact that the title of this post looks as though it might have a misplaced colon (which sounds like quite a painful medical condition, if I do say so myself), I'm going for the double meaning: For the first time since I started using Site Meter, I've averaged forty hits per day this past week:

The Musings of Kev
(sm5hardbop)

-- Site Summary ---
Visits

Total ........................ 6,087
Average per Day ................. 40
Average Visit Length .......... 4:48
This Week ...................... 282

Page Views

Total ....................... 12,418
Average per Day ................. 94
Average per Visit .............. 2.3
This Week ...................... 655

With the exception of the poltical-correctness screed from the other day, this hasn't even been a week of my meatiest stuff. But hey, no complaints. Thank you for visiting, whether or not we've met (online or for real). I do appreciate you taking the time out of your day, and I hope that, even on a blog that promised from day one to be "all over the map." you'll find something that keeps you coming back regularly. We know that you have a choice when reading blogs, and we appreciate you choosing the Musings of Kev.

Oh, and I bet it would've been funny if I'd had a Site Meter since the very beginning, registering those three- or four-hit averages a week. Ya gotta start somewhere, I suppose...

Time to build an ark, maybe? This one's aimed at my fellow Metroplex residents: Did anyone float away today? The sudden storm that came through the northeast part of town today was pretty brutal, knocking out the power in the hallways of the college for a while and drenching those of us unfortunate enough to have to walk in it (my shoes were still wet three hours later).

They say the same thing might happen again tomorrow, but this time I'll be prepared...and no way will I leave my car window cracked, no matter how sunny it is at the time.

Showing your true colo(u)rs: Got a minute or two? Try this really cool color perception test from England. (Hat tip: The Volokh Conspiracy)

This guy's sleeping on the couch tonight: A Macedonian man drove off from an Italian gas station without his wife and didn't realize it until six hours later.

Five More Months Till Day Five

I'm using Sunday as the day of rest it was meant to be, but I'll pop on long enough to note that a few small details have been released about the next season of 24 (hat tip: Dave Barry's Blog). They're keeping almost everything very much under wraps, save for announcing a few new characters. I hope I have time to rent/buy the DVD's from the first three seasons in the meantime, so I can catch up on some of the backstory that eluded me last season.

They could name it the "Holiday Fin": The other day, we heard about cell phones for tots. Now, in Chicago, someone has developed a hotel for fish.

Let's Hear It for Little D

The first-ever college music guide published by Rolling Stone magazine has plenty of kind words for Denton, according to an article in today's Dallas Morning News

The University of North Texas serves as Denton's biggest claim to college-town fame, but Rolling Stone raves also go out to Denton music venues Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios, Hailey's Club, Dan's Silverleaf and J&J's Pizza. The guide also gives a thumbs up to Recycled Books, Records & CDs on the downtown square. Two defunct venues earned nods: Brickhaus Café, which is now serving coffee and open-mic activity as Banter, and Seasick Records, which closed its doors on campus last spring to vend hard-to-find music on disc and vinyl online.

"From my perspective, it's great to get some national recognition in a national publication like this," said Jon Nelson, director of the Center for Experimental Music and Intermedia at UNT. The center was one of the programs noted in the guide, along with UNT's world-renowned jazz-studies program.

Sure, when I was in college, we'd complain that there wasn't always a lot to do in Denton, but I guess we probably took the great music scene for granted, not realizing that every college town wasn't so richly endowed. The excellent music program at my alma mater has a lot to do with it, of course; the school provides a fertile ground for creativity that spills over into the community and guarantees a well-educated populace both onstage and in the audience. Sure, I wish there was a full-time jazz club there, but things like Lab Band Night at the Syndicate and various local jams will have to fill the void for now.

The new guide is called Schools that Rock: The Rolling Stone College Guide, published by Wenner Books. More information is available here.

P.C. as a Jazz Bassist? Good.P.C. as a Lifestyle? Ridiculous.

I opened my news browser this morning to find this headline screaming at me:
NCAA Bans Indian Names, Mascots from Postseason Events

INDIANAPOLIS (AP) - The NCAA's decision to ban "hostile" and "abusive" American Indian nicknames from its postseason events has stirred a new debate, and a threat of legal action from at least one school.

Florida State and Illinois are among the 18 schools with an American Indian nickname or logo that will be prohibited by the NCAA from displaying them in postseason events, starting in February. The names will not be allowed on team uniforms and mascots - such as the Fighting Illini's Chief Illiniwek - will not be allowed to perform at games. Even band members and cheerleaders will be barred from using American Indians on their uniforms beginning in 2008.

You've got to be kidding. Everybody off the street; the P.C. police are out in full force.

I'm sorry, but I have little patience for people passing legislation with the sole intention of keeping people from getting their feelings hurt. Why would one automatically assume that teams employing Indian mascots are doing so to make fun of them? I'm reasonably sure that the opposite is true: the schools are either paying tribute to a local tribe with a rich history in their area, or they're saluting the admirable qualities ("noble warrior" etc.) of Native Americans in general. With the exception of the Cleveland Indians mascot (found here) and the Florida State/Atlanta Braves Tomahawk Chop, one would be hard-pressed to say that these teams are making fun of their namesakes. (Besides, the Tomahawk Chop is simply annoying on general principle, all political correctness aside.)

Granted, the action isn't as extreme as it could have been:

While NCAA officials admit they cannot force schools to change nicknames or logos, they want to make a statement they believe is long overdue: It's time for the Indian names to go.

The 18 schools will not be permitted to host future NCAA tournament games, and if events have already been awarded to those schools, they must cover any logos or nicknames that appear.

One school isn't taking this action lying down:

Florida State president T.K. Wetherell was already threatening legal action to keep his school's nickname - Seminoles - intact.

"I intend to pursue all legal avenues to ensure that this unacceptable decision is overturned, and that this university will forever be associated with the 'unconquered' spirit of the Seminole Tribe of Florida," he said in a written statement.

And he makes a good point later in the article:

"The rules as we understand them would have us cover the Seminole name and symbol as if we were embarrassed, and any committee that would think that is a proper and respectful treatment of Native Americans should be ashamed," Wetherell said.

I'm sure that some could call me insensitive for saying things like this. But let me point you to a team whose mascot could also be considered offensive, save for the fact that it almost never happens: the Notre Dame Fighting Irish.

As you may be able to tell from my name, I'm at least a quarter Irish. My ancestors probably struggled when they first arrived in the States, and they probably came here in the first place as a result of bad conditions back home (just think of two words: potato famine). Notre Dame's mascot--a little leprechaun guy--could certainly be considered offensive by those of us with Irish ancestry, but you never hear about efforts to force them to change it. We could also be offended by the stereotype of the Irish as people who drink all the time...but generally speaking, we're not. Why is that?

I offer a couple of theories:

• Maybe the vast majority of people of Irish ancestry have been here long enough that we've become fully assimilated into American culture; seeing as how any wounds that were sustained by prejudice have long since healed, the use of one of our own as a team mascot doesn't really bug anyone. It might even be seen as cool...


• Or maybe it's just that it's not specific to those with an Irish background--that there are just a whole lot of people out there, regardless of ethnicity, who think that life's too short to be so easily offended all the time.

I remember when I was a little kid, and I would (as kids always do) get teased by other kids who called me bad names. I'd run home and complain to Mom about it, and she'd usually offer that timeless motherly pearl of wisdom: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. But since the whole political-correctness movement took hold in the early '90s, that old "momily" has been turned on its side...so that now, it's more like If you hurt me with words, I'll break your bones with sticks and stones. Bleh. And people wonder how we've cultivated such a culture of victims and whiners who sue each other at the drop of a hat. (It's very interesting to note that Florida State's use of the Seminoles mascot has the support of the Seminole Nation in the school's own state; it's Seminoles in completely different states [as far away as Oklahoma] who are objecting.)

To those people, I say: lighten up, will ya? Yes, there are lines that can't be crossed--derogatory racial epithets, certain racial jokes, and so on--but naming a team after Native Americans, tribally or generally, doesn't even approach that line over here. It's dangerous to assume that anyone who uses those names does so with malice aforethought. It would take a really ignorant person to think that all Native Americans live in teepees and wear war paint and headdresses, just like it would be equally ignorant to think that all Irish people drink all the time. People like that can be dealt with on an individual basis, but that's no reason to mess things up for the rest of us by making mountains out of proverbial molehills. Because, after a while, the "boy who cried wolf" theory kicks in: if someone spends too much time squawking about the little things, people will have grown tired of listening when something really big comes up.

Am I all wet here? Feel free to comment. (Incidentally, if you're confused about the title of this post, "P.C." was the nickname of the great jazz bassist Paul Chambers; John Coltrane wrote a great tune ["Mr. P.C."] in his honor, and I ended up naming a pet rabbit after the tune title.)

Gig report: I have posted a summary of last night's gig up on the TD/D blog. Eric made it out to hear us, and it was definitely cool to meet him in person for the first time (a process that J-Guar and I have dubbed "de-fictionalization," when someone morphs from a blogger-buddy into a real human being). Eric's in a band too, so I'll definitely return the favor at one of his future gigs down the road.

Sports Illustrated would call this a "sign of the apocalypse": Just what the world needs--cell phones for tots. I'm still dealing with the fact that some of my sixth-graders have them.

Oops, I Broke Blog Curfew Tonight...

I try to have a post each day, though I will take a day off if there's simply nothing of substance that can be written (no sense writing just for writing's sake). But I totally missed "actual Thursday" this week (that's as opposed to what I call "fiscal Thursday," which means it's still "today" until I go to bed, no matter what the clock says). The day just got away from me: the college-combo-and-special-guests had a gig at the ArtCentre tonight (much fun was had), and, while at post-concert dinner with half of said combo, I got a call from some old friends who wanted to hang afterwards, hangage ensued, and suddenly it was one in the morning. All I can say is: meh. Catching up with people is good, and it's not like I lose money if I miss a blogging day.

Besides, I have no big topic at hand except one: if you're in the area, come see TD/D tomorrow night (that's fiscal tomorrow, actual today) at the Coffee Haus from 8-10 p.m. Since two of the three rhythm section players will be subs, we may not pull out the heavy artillery (i.e. Foosball), but I think it'll be fun. In addition to our rhythm guests, we're likely to have guest appearances from my alto protege, Aaron, as well as Colin from combo, an emerging talent on the drums. And of course we'll bring out Collin on alto (that's two-L Collin vs. the one-L Colin I just mentioned) from behind the counter, since he's working there during our gig.

Directions, parking details, etc. are now posted on the TD/D blog. Help us pack the place again!

So what'll they call it--Adibok or Reedas? In today's business news, Adidas announced that it's buying Reebok. (They're going to keep the individual brand names, however, wisely choosing not to come up with a hybrid like the ones listed above, or something completely random like "Accenture.")

This Book is for Real

Today, I did something I would never have imagined doing even a year ago: I walked into a local music store and bought a Real Book off the shelf.

It's weird even talking about this, but now that the book has gone legit, I guess we can. Here's a primer for the non-jazzer readers: There's a type of music book out there called a "fake book." It was originally aimed at skilled keyboard players who wanted to make up their own accompaniments to tunes rather than play someone else's arrangements of said tunes. Instead of a two-staff format with bass lines and all that, a fake book features just the main melody of a tune and its accompanying chord symbols. It's also known as a lead-sheet format, and it lends itself well to horn players, since that's all the information they really need.

In the 1970's, an underground publication came out called the "Real Book" (a play on the term fake book, obviously), which contained most of the well-known jazz standards in concert-pitch, Eb and Bb editions. The editing was somewhat sloppy at times, but it was a great resource for "pickup" bands playing standards without a rehearsal (as I'll be doing on a few tunes with my school combo tomorrow night). There was only one problem: No publishers were listed, and no royalties were paid...which made them totally illegal.

The Wikipedia article linked above credits the compilation of the books to Berklee College of Music students and the original lead sheet production to noted jazz composers Carla Bley and Steve Swallow (which would explain the preponderance of their tunes in there), but one would think that they would've been busted for it a long time ago if that were the case. At any rate, the books could be found with little difficulty if you knew where to go (in the back alley in an unmarked brown truck at midnight, etc.; I saw someone selling them literally under the table at a jazz festival one time). They really were an indispensable part of a jazz musician's library, but the stigma of illegality was always there. In the late 80's, a company called Sher Music came out with three volumes of "The New Real Book," which gained points for accuracy while losing some for including 80's pop-fusion tunes in there; the shelf-life of those tunes had expired by the time the books hit the stores. (I mean, really, would anyone ever play Michael Jackson's "P.Y.T." on a gig? If so...I'm really glad I don't get gigs like that.)

But a funny thing happened this year. The world's largest music publisher, the Hal Leonard Corporation, bought up all the rights to the Real Book tunes and published their own legal one. It's called the Real Book Sixth Edition (acknowledging the five previous illegal versions). The cover is identical to the old ones, and they even use the same "jazz manuscript" font that was employed (albeit by hand at the time) in the originals. But the difference is that most of the hideous editing mistakes have been corrected, and, best of all, everything is legal and the composers get paid. In a very shrewd move, they priced the books at $25.00 (ten bucks cheaper than the illegal ones), which should drive the underground distributors out of business, and rumor has it that they've pursued legal action against those distributors, if any can be found.

Since it's legal now, I'm going to make it the official "textbook" for combo in the fall, but I bought my first one today, and it really did feel odd to just get one off the shelf like that. I wonder if this is how it felt when Prohibition was lifted (yes, that's a wild analogy, but it was the first one that popped into my head).

UPDATE: Lest there be any doubt of the legitimacy of these books, they can now be bought on Amazon!

YET ANOTHER UPDATE: I edited the Wikipedia entry linked above so that it now contains information on the legal version. That was my first time to do such an edit, and...wow, I thought I was an anal self-editor on this blog, but I was five times more careful with the Wiki. Compare that entry's paragraph with mine and you'll also see that I used a more formal style over there.

The thread that just won't die: My readers are still talking about Raffy; in the midst of that, we hear some good news for local hockey fans.

Someone took them on, I guess: Last night, a friend sent me the link to a download of the clip from the July 24 episode of Family Guy where they brilliantly parodied the video for the song "Take on Me" by the band a-ha. When I went to post it today, it had been taken down, so I guess we'll have to wait for the DVD now.

So moooove already! I'm not sure which is funnier about this story--the fact that a cow blocked a busy turnpike in Pennsylvania, or that actual cattle rustlers were called in to remedy the situation. (I'm sure Eric and his traffic-reporter buds would have a field day *rim shot* with that one.)

Not Just Any Plain Ol' Band Director

As most of the high schools in the area are in the thick of marching band (much to the chagrin of most of my students, who have had to become reacquainted with early-morning hours again), I was saddened to note the passing of a local icon in the profession:

During his nearly 40 years as a high school band director – including a dozen years at Plano Senior High School – Charles Eugene Forque won the respect and affection of students, colleagues and his fellow professional musicians.

He took 36 bands to University Interscholastic League competitions and brought home 34 sweepstakes awards. Former Tonight Show bandleader Doc Severinsen performed 43 concerts with Mr. Forque's high school bands, whose public concerts included one at the first baseball game in Houston's Astrodome.

Mr. Forque, 75, died Saturday of complications of Alzheimer's disease at his McKinney home.

The whole article may be found here.

I first met Mr. Forque in high school, when he was a guest clinician at a camp I attended. One of his former assistants was one of my high school band directors, so we crossed paths again when our school played Plano in the playoffs. Later on, I auditioned to teach lessons at his school when I was in college (I didn't get the job, but benefited from the experience, as it was the only time I've had to do such an audition for a private teaching job). And more recently, I would see him at my old music-store job when he, by then the director of the Plano Community Band, would come in to purchase band music. I only reminded him once that we'd first met when I was in high school, but it was cool to have bridged the gap from calling him "Mr. Forque" to "Charles" by that time.

Forque always struck me as one of those gruff-but-caring individuals who got results. According to former student Jim Carter, who succeeded him as director of the community band,

"[w]hile he was a disciplinarian – when it came to wanting things done a certain way and making sure it was done that way – everybody saw the reasons why," Mr. Carter said. "In the end, when you finished that particular performance or that show at contest, you realized you'd done an incredible job and you felt basically fulfilled."

He will definitely be missed in our profession, but his contribution will live on through the many alumni and supporters of his programs.

What a miracle: ...that everyone survived this plane crash today.

A new form of 'roid rage: There's quite a spirited discussion of the Raffy situation in the comments to yesterday's post.

QUOTE OF THE DAY: In a continuing series taken from a set of notebook sketches made during an Amsterdam trip in 1993, Ann Althouse describes the European electrical socket as "a space-baby looking out a porthole." I have a couple of friends who used to refer to Chipotle burritos as space babies, so I got an extra big laugh out of that.

Short and Random

Blogging will be briefer than usual this week until the dreaded fall schedule (a.k.a. the Dread Sked) is a little farther along in the process. At the moment, the time period from 10:00-11:00 a.m. has approximately twenty students in it, so there's still a bit of work to do (seeing as how I underestimated yesterday; I would have to add five more weekdays to the school week to give everyone an in-class slot, not the single day I stated yesterday).

At any rate, a few small items:

• Dave Barry's Blog has a new URL, which I will also change on the sidebar link as soon as I can. The fonts are different, and there are a few ads here and there, but otherwise, it's still the same great daily dose of America's favorite living humor writer that we've been used to for so many years.


• I've raved in these pages about the imminent opening of Firewheel Town Center in two months and six days (no, I'm not counting at all!), but I did find out one little setback today, courtesy of the new issue of the Garland City Press: the AMC theatre won't be ready by grand opening weekend; we have to wait until December for that. D'oh!


• And I'm sorry, but there's no way I believe that Raffy did steroids. This has to be one of those "false positives" that you hear about sometimes.

More tomorrow. Kev out.

Kids Say--and Play--the Darnedest Things

Today was my sister's birthday, so we got to have a long phone conversation for the first time in a while; my busy teaching schedule and her more-than-full-time job as a mother of two kids under the age of five limit us to quickly-dashed-off emails a lot of the time.

Since kids that young grow up so fast, I always get to hear about the new things that one or the other of my nephews can do. What I heard today really surprised me: they're both into the Beatles! Even though I've been a musician of some sort since sixth grade, my childhood music-listening never got much past "Mary Had a Little Lamb" (which, granted, has an interesting history). My four-year-old nephew, Noah, has a CD that his daddy burned him with a bunch of Beatles songs, and he's made some interesting observations:

• "John and Paul write the best songs."


• "George doesn't write good songs like John and Paul." (My sister corrected him so that I think he now knows that George simply didn't write as many good songs as John and Paul.)


• "Ringo doesn't sing very good...but he does sing "Octopus's Garden" and that's a very good song."

My 2-year-old nephew Caleb is getting into the act, too: he can sing part of "Hey Jude." It's mostly the "na, na-na na-na-na naaaaah" part, but still, it was funny (I got treated to a rendition over the phone). Just wait till I play them the Maynard version in a few years...

I really need to go down and visit them; it's been way too long. But for now, the Dread Sked needs to be created. I've put it off till now, but the public schools start in two weeks (*shudder*). I think I'm going to either need to come up with human cloning or the addition of an extra day to the week to make this work, but we'll see.

John also writes more expensive songs than George: A handwritten lyric sheet with John Lennon's lyrics to "All You Need is Love" has sold for a million dollars at an auction in London.

Michael Brecker Needs Our Help

I'm pretty much going to post this email in its entirety as I received it yesterday; this blog doesn't have a ton of readers, but getting this information to as many people as possible can't hurt:

This is from Michael's wife. She asked for this to be passed along:

Dear Family and Friends,

My husband, Michael Brecker, has been diagnosed with MDS
(myelodysplastic syndrome), and its critical that he undergoes a stem
cell transplant. The initial search for a donor (including Michael's
siblings and children) has not yet resulted in a suitable match.
Michael's doctors have told us that we need to immediately explore
ALL possible options. This involves getting as many people of a similar
genetic background to be tested.

There are some important points to understand concerning this
process:

1. The screening involves a blood test only. It can be done very
quickly either at a marrow donation center or at a LOCAL LAB. The cost
is anywhere from $40 to $75 and your insurance may cover it. (In NYC,
you can call Frazier, at the NY Blood Bank, at 212-570-3441, and make
an appointment for HLA typing. It costs $40.00.) Check with your
local blood bank, or go to http://www.marrow.org to find the donor
center nearest you.

2. Your blood typing information can be posted on the international
registry, if you choose, where it would also be available to others in
need of a transplant. BEING ON THE REGISTRY DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO
DONATE, it just means that you may be ASKED to do so. You can take your
name off the registry at any time.

3. Should you be selected as a potential donor for Michael, please
understand that there have been tremendous advances in bone marrow
transplants and the term itself can be misleading. Bone marrow
donation is no more invasive than giving blood. Stem cells are simply
harvested from your blood and then transplanted to Michael.

4. A match for Michael would be most likely to come from those of Eastern
European Jewish descent. If you or anyone you know are in this category
please make a special effort to immediately get tested. Ultimately, you
would be doing something not just for Michael, but for so many more who
are in a similar situation as my husband.

5. You are now part of our internet-based drive for donor testing. If
everyone who receives this can motivate a bunch of their friends to get
tested, and those friends then forward this email to get their friends
to get tested, we will have rapidly expanded the pool of potential
donors. I urge all of you to get tested AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

Any local blood center/Red Cross center can assist in organizing a
drive for Michael, although it would be desirable if you can get a
large group, e.g. a synagogue, to sponsor it. Should you have any
questions about this, please don't hesitate to get in touch with
Michael's management office at 212.302.9200 or info@michaelbrecker.com.

Thank you so much for your love and support.

We are so grateful.

Susan xo

I sure hope this effort results in a match for him.

This Piano Teacher's Stringboard Was Way Too Tightly Wound

From Dave Barry's Blog comes the story of a piano teacher who became enraged at her student for playing a different piece than she had chosen for him in a competition; she subsequently went on stage during the performance and slammed the piano lid on his hand. The student, of course, is suing.

As a longtime music teacher, I've known a few colleagues who were that tightly wound, but this lady may take the cake. And it does seem like that would only happen among classical musicians; we jazzers are normally way too laid-back to do something like that (OK, maybe Buddy Rich notwithstanding).

Also check out the comments on Dave's post, where several readers (myself included) offer up our favorite musician jokes.

Smells like Team spirit: It's now official; the next Team Demon/Dingus gig is a week from tonight. More details on the sidebar and at the TD/D blog.

On a Slow News Day...

...you post weird stories, like these:

• A Croatian farmer was killed by a falling cow. (And I'm pretty sure he didn't get to yell "run away!" like they did in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)


• Down in San Antonio, a man called the cops to report that something had been stolen: his marijuana.


• In some places, you're not even safe in the afterlife; a woman in Rio de Janeiro was hit by a stray bullet while lying in her casket.


• And finally, darn those whippersnappers; according to a survey of teenage Internet users, not only is instant messaging the way to go, but e-mail is for old people.

QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I fell out of my top bunk this morning, and I think some of my brains leaked out."--yet another funny student, in a lesson today.

The Right Man Moniker for the Job

A recent post over at Althouse yesterday quotes a New York University law professor named Sylvia Law. That's right--she's Professor Law, the Law Professor. That's not the first time I've run across someone whose name really matches his or her profession, and it seems to be common in the professorate. I've also run across a piano professor named Dr. Keyes and an education professor named Dr. Schoolmaster. I know there are plenty of other people running around out there with job-appropriate names, and I bet you do too. Feel free to post them in the comments.

So did his chair have a little sticker with a picture of a car on it? An 80-year-old German man was arrested for driving his wheelchair on the Autobahn.

Jedidiah's rebellious years: An Amish teen in Ohio was charged with stealing house numbers and flower pots (as well as with an MIP). The authorities got wind of his mischief when neighbors complained of someone blasting loud music from his buggy.

Kids Still Say the Darnedest Things

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a kid who was really funny in lessons. The same kid came back from camp this week and was still funny. Here are the ones I wrote down:

KID: My allergies are really bothering me.
ME: What are you allergic to?
KID: I'm not sure. I think I'm allergic to all the boogers in my head.
(I'm not sure that's possible, but it'd be scary if it were.--Ed.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

KID (after a counting mistake): That was a rest? I thought somebody sneezed or something.
(Hmm...reread the post linked above; sneezing seems to be a common thread here. Must be the allergies...--Ed.)

Again, perhaps you had to be there, but it sure made me laugh. If all my students were that funny, the day would go by faster, but I wonder how much work would get done...

Brecker update: In case you missed it, read the comment in yesterday's post about the health status of Michael Brecker. I definitely plan on sending a card, since, besides being one of my musical heroes, he was so cool when I got to meet him back in March. Get well, Michael!

A Good Idea...

I had never thought of this before, but someone emailed it to me this past week:

Following the disaster in London . .

East Anglican Ambulance Service have launched a national "In Case of
Emergency (ICE)" campaign with the support of Falklands war hero Simon Weston.

The idea is that you store the word " I C E " in your mobile phone address
book, and against it enter the number of the person you would want to be
contacted "In Case of Emergency".

In an emergency situation ambulance and hospital staff will then be able to
quickly find out who your next of kin are and be able to contact them.

It's so simple that everyone can do it.

Please will you also email this to everybody in your address book, it won't
take too many 'forwards' before everybody will know about this. It really
could save your life, or put a loved one's mind at rest.

For more than one contact name ICE1, ICE2, ICE3 etc.

Incidentally, I ran this through snopes.com and it checks out as being legit; the Snopes post also addresses a companion rumor that the ICE thing somehow invokes a cell phone virus (it doesn't).

But this was a scam: An Italian couple stole 50,000 euros from a woman in the Sicilian city of Palermo after convincing her they were vampires who would impregnate her with the son of the Anti-Christ if she did not pay them.

...And We're Back

Camp is over, and I had my recovery day yesterday, so regular blogging will now resume. I'll post my thoughts on this year's camp over in my "letter to campers" on my other website within a day or so and update this post with a link over there when it's done.

In the meantime, regular reader Gary P. wrote something in the comments to the last post that I thought I'd reproduce here in its entirety for the purpose of starting discussion:

Are the current crop of "living legend" jazz musicians considered so legendary because of their association with the truly innovative players of the 50's and 60's? And once these guys are gone, who are going to be the "living legends" in 2040?

Not to sound dismissive at all toward guys like Clark Terry, Benny Golson, Maynard Ferguson, and the guys in that class... but would we still care about them as much if it weren't because of their association with guys like Basie, Ellington, Coltrane, Dizzy, Kenton, Brownie, etc? And once they're gone, who's going to take their place? Is the public face of jazz in 30 years going to be whomever the last surviving brother of Wynton is just because of his bloodlines?

Here's my take on the above: I think Maynard stands up on his own as an innovator, as well as a tireless crusader in the quest to keep jazz alive among young people (note how often his performance venue is a high school, and how often he hires musicians straight out of college). Having had the pleasure of playing with Clark Terry in a combo setting when he was here in '98, I think he also stands up just fine without his even more famous peers because of the players he's influenced (not to mention the whole "Mumbles" scatting style that he developed), and Golson has made his own mark as a composer ("Along Came Betty," "Whisper Not," etc.).

So how about the "next generation?" There are actually a few generations below the above-mentioned artists now, but Michael Brecker definitely strikes me as one who'll stand the test of time..Joshua Redman, Kenny Garrett (yes, OK, I'm biased toward sax players). I think there are some guys (and gals, too; Maria Schneider is quite an innovative writer) out there who will still be in the CD players/iPods/chips implanted in people's brains in the future. Readers....comments?

More blogs 'n' bop: I"m a week late to the party, but ovber at Althouse, there was a discussion about jazz, or, more specifically, if you're ever in a situation where people assume you like jazz. (And indeed, how couldn't you?--Ed.)

Lucky seven: The end of camp also meant that I got to watch the last two stages of the Tour de France. Congrats again to Lance Armstrong for winning seven in a row and setting a record that will probably never be matched. You've done Texas--and America--very proud.

In case you missed it: Some interesting stories from while I was away...

• I love my flip-flops, but even I wouldn't wear them to meet the President like some college lacrosse players did.


• Some teachers in England are trying to scrap the word "failure" in favo(u)r of "deferred success." Gimme a break...


• The newest hobby from (of course) California: Mooning AMTRAK trains.

(all of the above courtesy Dave Barry's Blog)

An Early Thrasching

This post is basically a concert alert for the locals who are planning on attending tonight's camp concert but didn't hear last night's announcement: Because tonight is Thrascher night, everything is starting a little early; if you want to be soundly thrasched, be in your seats by 7:45.

Camp is going very well, and I'll have more thoughts later.

Blowing out the candles: Happy birthday to my brother-in-law Justin, the CEO of a very cool company.

Notes from Camp: Day 3

There's not a lot of time to post this week, but I'll chime in whenever the muse hits me. Two thoughts from today:

• Sure, most jazz fans know about the big-name artists--the Breckers, the Redmans, the Marsalises, and so on--but there are so many unsung heroes out there making incredible music while flying under the radar screens of too many people. So I invite you to check out the music of saxophonist Bobby Militello, our guest artist at camp tonight. He's made a lot of his living as a sideman (Maynard and Brubeck can't be wrong), but he carries a show and engages the crowd very well as a featured attraction. He has dazzling technique, a treasure trove of ideas, and a sweet, sweet alto sound (as well as a wealth of chops on the flute and that cool sing-and-play technique to go with them). It's a true honor to share the stage with him.
  
  He also gave a pre-lunchtime clinic for the campers today where he talked about the importance of getting in "the zone" while playing and offered advice on how to get there. He also encouraged everyone at camp, whether they'll be going into music or not, to strive for that one great performance that transcends oneself; it'll stick with you for the rest of your life, he promised.
  
  He'll be back tomorrow night as well, splitting a twin bill with trumpeter Jeff Jarvis; I can't wait.


• It hits me on occasion just how lucky we are to have this type of situation in which to work and play every year. This great, personal, highly expressive form of truly American music that we call jazz is good for the soul; it really does great things for people. Sure, it's frustrating at times--what worthwhile endeavor isn't?--but the feeling of achieving that transcendent performance that Militello described above, or the look on the face of an aspiring young jazzer when they "get" a new concept are just so rewarding. This week takes a lot out of me, but it's pretty much the highlight of every summer.

But now I sleep. More tomorrow, if there's time.

Maybe I'm glad that I still don't have Kevmobile 1.1 after all: The Acura Integra was the most-stolen vehicle last year, according to a recent report.

Blowing out the candles: Happy birthday to Colin from combo (and camp).

It's Been a Good But Long Day at Camp...

...so I only have one thing to say:

Bing. Bing. Boing. Bing. Bing. Boing.

(Familiar with the tune? Buy an mp3 of it for only a buck.)

Oh, and happy birthday Ben (*coughUPDATEYOURBLOGcough*).

Just Plane Quoteworthy

I'm back from Indiana, and camp will be in full swing tomorrow morning. Since I only had three hours of sleep last night, this will be a short post, but I did have to pass along a couple of unusual quotes from the plane trip and in the car on the way from the airport to camp:

"We would like to welcome you to Dallas, where the local time is five to eleven....five to twleve. Umm, sorry, correction, that is five to eleven after all."--flight attendant, as we landed at DFW this morning.

"At this time, usage of cellular telephones may now be used."--the same flight attendant, a few minutes later. (And I thought I was sleepy...)

"In McKinney, southbound 75 is shut down in both directions."--radio traffic reporter, as I was leaving the airport. (And no, it wasn't Eric; besides, I'm not sure I could make fun of him on here even if he did say that.)

...but no, I don't think he had a fur-covered steering wheel too: The puddle-jumper plane that I took from Evansville to Memphis had fuzzy dice hanging above the windshield.

Indiana Wants Me...

...and Lord, I can go back there, but only for a couple of days. It's fraternity conference time again, which means that, like on several previous occasions, I'm getting on a plane for Indiana at 6:35 tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if this will be one of my famous all-nighters or not, but if I do sleep, it'll be maybe three hours at best. After a Friday and Saturday of meetings, I'm hopping another plane at the exact same time on Sunday morning so that I can get back in time for Jazz Camp that afternoon. It'll be a great week, but spare time will be at a premium.

Blogging will be on hiatus for the next two days; we're not meeting at the headquarters, but rather at a local university, and there will be no computer access where I'm staying. I'll pop back in on Sunday with a quick report, and highlights from camp will come in throughout the week.

(UPDATE: My hat's off to Blogger for their new "recover post" function; I lost this one in a browser crash right before I was done, and I was able to bring it back right away upon relaunch.)

Title Trivia II: Once again, bonus points to any reader who can name the one-hit wonder who recorded the song that inspired the title of today's post (no fair Googling!). And I can't believe nobody chimed in with the answer to the origin of yesterday's title yet.

Would you like coins with that? A bank robber in Chicago sent a holdup note through the vacuum tube at the drive-up window, and a teller actually gave him cash.

Dude, I'm Talking to You Wireless!

Blogger Ryan Harne noted recently that the combination of the words "dial" and "up" in the same phrase (at least when referring to the Internet) is becoming an endangered species. A story in today's DMN seems to predict that the words "land" and "line" may someday be just as rare of a combination when discussing the telephone.

According to the story, not only has the number of cellular customers outpaced that of land-liners nationwide, but a lot of people are giving up their land lines altogether:

It's been a steady increase since Southwestern Bell and other providers began offering the first cellular service in Texas nearly 21 years ago. As recently as Dec. 31, 1999, the number of Texas local phone lines still far exceeded wireless, 13.2 million to 5.8 million.

But wireless surpassed wired in the second half of 2004, both in Texas and the U.S. In Texas, wireless users reached 13.1 million, while land lines dropped to 12.1 million. Nationally, wireless jumped ahead to 181.1 million users, compared with 177.9 million land lines.

The driving force behind this is the younger customers now entering the workforce; they've grown up with wireless, and they hav
e learned to live with the occasional static and dropped calls that happen on cell phones. But customers of all ages have learned to appreciate the price and convenience of wireless:

Sandy de Vries, 45, a hand physical therapist at a Dallas hospital, hasn't had a traditional telephone line for about six years. One day, she realized she was paying about $75 to $80 a month for a home phone, the same as she was paying for cellular service. She gave up the land line.

"It's made to me more available to people," she said. "They can get me anywhere. It's also nice that I don't have sales people calling me at night when I get home."

To that last part, I say "hear, hear!" I haven't done it yet, but I could totally see giving up my land line at some point. As it is, I've pretty much ceded it to people I don't want to talk to, such as telemarketers. I don't have caller ID on it (because I can't get it for free), so I monitor any incoming call that I happen to hear before I pick up. My only real purpose for having it is to have a place for prospective students to leave their info, so it won't interrupt my lessons as much as it would if they called my cell.

Several of the people in the DMN story noted that they gave up their land lines by attrition-- they moved and just didn't get one hooked up in their new place. Seeing as how I'm only (almost) four years into my ownership of Casa de Kev, I'm not anticipating moving anytime soon, but I wonder if I'll be cell-only a decade from now for other reasons.

So what would it take for you to give up your land line? What are the pros and cons of doing so? Please chime in using the comments.

Oh, and bonus points go to anyone who knows the movie from which the title of today's post is paraphrased.

From the "duhh" department: In Italy, studies have shown that men don't mind seeing naked women on the beach. (via Dave Barry's Blog)

I'll Punch In the Rest of This Later

This was already going to be a light blogging week later on, when I'm out of town with no computer access on Friday and Saturday. Now, it's turned into a light beginning of the week also, since I've been up at the college for the past two nights while the big band works on a recording session. I only actually played on one tune, but I was around to serve as an extra pair of ears and give occasional cues and things.

Being in the studio is fascinating stuff; for the accomplished musician, it allows one to clean up a few mistakes and thus polish up an already-decent recording. For those of lesser ability (i.e. some of the spawn of the Machine, it would be possible to use technology to replace talent altogether.

I'll discuss some of this stuff...later, like some of the finishing touches on the recording that we didn't get to tonight. In the meantime, I need to prepare for this out-of-town conference and rest up for another Marathon Wednesday tomorrow.

An army of one two: According to author Michael Fumento, obesity in Americans may be threatening our national defense capability:

With Iraq already straining enlistment efforts, nearly 20 percent of men and 40 percent of women of recruiting age are too fat to even be considered. "This is quickly becoming a national security issue for us," an Army nutrition expert recently told the AP.

Read the whole thing. (via The Volokh Conspiracy)

Today's Date is 7/11...

...so have you gotten your free Slurpee yet?

(Sure, at 4 ounces, the Slurpee in question comes in a cup that's only slightly bigger than a shot-glass...but still, it's free. My friend and I felt only slightly guilty about not buying anything, but we were sure they had that happen all day long.)

Reminiscing on Rusty

I turned the radio on this afternoon just in time to hear the Rusty Greer Day ceremony that was held before the Rangers game. He's one of only a few Ranger players to have a day named in their honor (Nolan Ryan and Jim Sundberg were among the others), and I can't think of anyone more deserving.

Going to Ranger games in the '90s meant the opportunity to see the hardworking young outfielder who was known for clutch hits in the late innings and game-saving diving catches in the field (often at the expense of his body, which no doubt contributed to a career that was all too short). The catch that will always be burned in Ranger fans' memories is the one that saved Kenny Rogers' perfect game in 1994, but he did that kind of thing so often that it was almost expected.

Besides the usual highlight-film montage (which was replaced on the radio broadcast by play-by-play clips, many featuring the late, great Mark Holtz), the club gave Rusty a new pickup truck. Riding in the back of the truck were a couple of surprises: his former teammates Will Clark and Mickey Tettleton, who were also known as blue-collar players who gave their all for the game. Clark spoke for a minute, reminding us what a privilege it was to see Rusty do his thing; I doubt that many who heard those words needed much convincing.

Rusty spent his entire career, minors to majors, with the Rangers organization, which doesn't happen much anymore. There were plenty of other old-school attributes about him; the most common phrases used to describe him were "he gave 110%," "he left everything on the field at the end of the game," and "he played the game the way it's supposed to be played." I'm glad I got to see him play as often as I did, and I'm sure that his legacy will live on in the organization for years to come.

QUOTE OF THE DAY: "AVOID A LITTER! FIX YOUR CRITTER!"--on a license plate frame that I saw on a truck parked, appropriately enough, in front of the pet store.

Hukd ahn Fonix Wurkd fur Thim To

This is a light blogging day; I'm enjoying my last true weekend before an out-of-town fraternity conference and Jazz Camp occur back-to-back at the end of next week. But I did want to note something amusing that Coop and I saw this afternoon. You may recall that, about a year and a half ago, a local restaurant with mangled messages on its marquee provided tons of blog-fodder for a while, and today, during the Starbucks portion of a Trifecta*, we looked up and saw this on a chalkboard sign:

TRY ONE OF OUR DELISIOUS SANDWICHES TO FILL YOUR HUNGY BELLY

It also said something about a FRAPPUCHINO on the same sign. D'oh.

We did feel somewhat bad when a few of the employees heard us laughing and saw us observing the sign, which one of them quickly fixed. The girl who made the sign said she had been in a hurry when doing so, and, while she was aware of the HUNGY part, she had missed the others. Even if we had a laugh at their expense, at least they fixed it in time for others to avoid doing the same.

*For the benefit of new readers, a Trifecta involves my three favorite indulgences: Starbucks, Krispy Kreme and Chipotle. They have to be within walking distance of each other, and, needless to say, it only happens on special occasions, lest we all end up weighing 900 pounds.

Oh say, you can see...us: A couple of pictures have been added to the May 22 post about the Rangers game where our alumni group sang the National Anthem. Granted, part of it was the blazing 98-degree sunlight, but my first impression when I saw the picture was: Man, we is some pasty white dudes (heh). But I'm really glad we got the pictures, which were sent by the Rangers organization itself.

All Fire(wheel)ed Up

Over the Fourth weekend, I finally ran across the site I'd been hoping to find for quite some time: the official Firewheel Town Center webpage that has site maps, aerial renderings, animations and so on. Now that it's a day shy of three months until the grand opening, I'm even more excited about what this is going to do to my part of town.

(For those not from around here, our city's long-awaited mall will not be one of those traditional boxy enclosed things, but rather an open-air "main street" layout with second-floor offices above street-level retail, featuring old-school architecture, a clock tower and a big open park area where concerts can be held. Some people, of course, have griped about the project's open design--having to be outside in the Texas heat, and so on--but a center of this kind will also regain the types of tenants--such as movie theatres, big-box electronics stores, and so on--that the malls long ago conceded to the open-air "power centers." It appears that Firewheel will combine the best elements of both concepts.)

It's funny that I'm getting all excited about this--I'm not a mall kind of guy by any stretch of the imagination--but this is going to transform Garland. One of our council members caught some grief a few weeks ago when he said that it was time to "turn the tables" on our neighboring suburbs:

"We're going to take money from the cities around us, where they've been doing it to us for 25 years – Plano, Richardson, Mesquite, Wylie," said [council member Michael] Holden, whose district includes the Firewheel Town Center site. "You can keep your people, but give us your money." (source)

While it may not have been the most graceful way to express that sentiment, he's basically correct. I'll certainly be spending a lot more money locally for things that I would have had to go to Plano to do. (Oh, and it will most certainly drive up the property value of Casa de Kev. That may mean some extra taxes in the near future, but it bodes well for a selling time way down the road.)

So if you're from out here in this area, check out the site to see what's going on behind the construction gates and find out where everything is going to be. (The aerial shot of the entire area is especially cool.) And even if you're not from around here, check it out anyway to see how the future of retail is going to look.

Jumpin' for java joy...and close to home: While doing the Googling that took me to the new Firewheel site, I also came upon a page for Firewheel Market, which is being built adjacent to the north side of the town center (between Dillard's and Highway 78, if you're a local). Thus was confirmed one of the things I'd been hoping for: a new Starbucks will be included in the mix. I knew there would be one inside the Barnes and Noble in the town center, but this will have the added bonus of a patio and maybe longer hours. Satisfying my evening Frap/Tazo jones will soon require a much shorter drive.

Mac Diddy? I'm Lovin' It!

McDonald's wants to upgrade its workers' uniforms to make them more in tune with the MTV generation:

To spearhead the uniform project, the world's largest restaurant chain has hired Steve Stoute of New York-based brand imaging firm Translation, Whitman said. Stoute, a former record executive, is responsible for hooking up rapper Jay-Z with Reebok International Ltd. and has worked with McDonald's previously on its partnerships with performers Justin Timberlake and Destiny's Child.

According to Stoute, talks are underway with some of the world's best-known clothing labels, including Sean "P. Diddy" Combs' Sean John label, Polo Ralph Lauren Corp., Giorgio Armani, hip hop mogul Russell Simmons' Phat Farm label, American Eagle Outfitters Inc., Abercrombie & Fitch Co., Rocawear, and Tommy Hilfiger.

P. Diddy and McDonald's? Mac Diddy? That one made me laugh a little (Mickey D's has never seemed like a bastion of hipness to me), but this made me laugh even more:

"McDonald's is acknowledging fashion is part of pop culture," Stoute said, adding that the uniforms "may have some elements that you see on MTV" and may be able to be worn as street clothes during non-work hours.

Yeah, that's gonna happen. Hip as the clothes might be, wouldn't they still smell like burgers and fries when you got off work? I'm not sure that would go over so well at your friends' next party...

Kids Say the Darnedest Things, Vol. XIV

This was a long teaching day--a Marathon Wednesday in fact--so this post will be short. Actually, it's pretty much an expanded Quote of the Day, except it's a pair of them, and they came from the same kid. They may even be from the "you had to be there" department, but I thought they were really funny. This particular eighth-grader was not known for being hilarious in the past, but today he was in rare form:

KID (after having a lot of rhythmic trouble on a piece of music): I think I should start tapping my foot again.
ME: Yes, you really should; it's important.
KID: I thought it was just sort of a ritual...like sacrificing a pig.
(That one stopped me in my tracks; did he really say "sacrificing a pig?" Why yes he did...)
ME: Well, some people would refer to sacrificing a pig as "barbecue."

And one more:
ME: OK, let's play this all the way through one more time, and don't stop, no matter what.
KID: But what if I sneeze, or have a baby or something?

Maybe you had to be there, and maybe I was just "punchy" from a long day of teaching, but that one had me rolling. (Incidentally, this was the same kid who was quoted in the cat food post about a year and a half ago.)

As always, I invite participation; feel free to leave any funny kid quotes in the comments.

Pucker up: Today is International Kissing Day. Being girlfriend-less at the moment, I didn't get to participate, but I hope you did. And hey, there's always next year... (hat tip: InstaPundit)

Tennis and All That Jazz

I'm not a tennis fan (more of a racquetball player, to be precise), but I got a kick out of a column by Kevin B. Blackistone in yesterday's Dallas Morning News because it opened with a jazz metaphor:

At least Count Basie had an option to get to the top of the music game when he was coming up. When he saw how well another prodigy, Sonny Greer, played the drums, Basie left the kit behind and started tickling the keyboard. Greer became Duke Ellington's legendary drummer and Basie became a pianist and one of the great bandleaders.

But what can Andy Roddick do finding himself like Basie staring now at a similar stonewall in the form of Roger Federer? Have a sex change operation? Call Tonya Hardings' old hit men?

The bottom line about the outcome of the 2005 men's final at the All England Club on Sunday, in which Federer needed but three sets and an hour and 41 minutes to dispatch Roddick, was that this is a lousy time to be a twentysomething up-and-coming men's tennis star. It doesn't matter if you're Roddick or anybody else. You're probably just getting a good workout, because you'll probably never reach the heights of Federer. (source)

I've known for quite some time that Blackistone was a jazz fan; I even saw him at a jazz club one time. He's used jazz imagery in his stories before, but this one happened to jump out at me, so I thought I'd pass it along.

Rockets' red glare? I went with some friends to the Las Colinas fireworks display last night and had a good time. Anyone have some good firework stories from this year? Post 'em in the comments, if you please.

A picture sings a thousand words: I've updated the post about singing the National Anthem at the Rangers game with a couple of pictures from the game.

I think I understand where the term "moon children" comes from: A Russian astrologer is suing NASA for crashing a space probe into that comet on Monday, saying it "messed up her horoscope."

Holiday Greetings and So Fourth

Happy Fourth of July to all! As we sleep in, get together with friends and family, and just totally enjoy the day, don't forget to pause for a moment and think about the sacrifices that have been made to keep this great nation independent and free. I'm not penning any eloquent essay over here today, but I'll point you to good ones by Ed Cone and Glenn Reynolds (aka InstaPundit).

As always, I'm wearing my Old Navy Flag T-shirt today (that tradition goes back to '99, when I stood atop Rochers-de-Naye in Switzerland wearing one). Picking this year's model wasn't easy, because almost every color had a unique design (I went with red).

If you happen to miss the fireworks today (or they're rained out; I actually got sprinkled on going to get my paper this morning), try these; they're pretty cool for only being a little Java applet (hat tip: Dave Barry's Blog).

An explosive story: James Lileks has a funny column about a mythical Revolutionary War-era fireworks pioneer.

Teachers Getting Dressed Down for Not Dressing Up

Since it's a holiday weekend, I wasn't planning a long post, but a story I read this morning caught my attention. I've talked before about my opposition to strict school dress codes, and that was for students. Now, districts are starting to do the same thing for teachers:

In some districts, teachers can get dressed down for wearing skimpy tops, short skirts, flip flops, jeans, T-shirts, spandex or baseball caps.

Some of that stuff should certainly not be worn by teachers, but jeans? Even on "casual Friday?"

District 11 in Colorado Springs, Colo., for example, prohibits sexually provocative items. That includes clothing that exposes "cleavage, private parts, the midriff or undergarments," district rules say.

OK, that one certainly makes sense.

In Georgia's Miller County, skirts must reach the knee. Elsewhere in the state, hair curlers are disallowed in Harris County and male teachers in Talbot County must wear ties two or three times a week.

Ties? Youch. Is it me, or is that just so 1960's? Do they have to wear a fedora hat too?

"There's an impression that teachers are dressing more and more - well, the good term for it would be 'relaxed,'" said Bill Scharffe, director of bylaws and policy services for the Michigan Association of School Boards. "Another term for it would be 'sloppy.'"

Wait a minute...aren't they in danger of becoming the fashion police here? And, even more importantly, won't this take away time from actually educating students?

Teachers may view policies that get too specific as restrictive and demeaning. And what to do about broad policies that are enforced inconsistently? What works for a physics teacher may not fit a kindergarten teacher who sits with students on the floor.

...or art teachers that are around messy paint and clay all day, and so on. One-size-fits-all approaches don't work any better in this situation than they do in most of the rest of education.

School administrators say inappropriate dress is most often an issue with younger teachers, whose trendy clothing and casual style can make it hard to distinguish them from their students.

Mark Berntson, who teaches high school band in West Fargo, N.D., wears a tie each day. It's a tradition he began years ago to stand out from his students. He does not wear blue jeans to class often, saving them for occasions such as the first day of baseball season.

"I don't think I'm taken as seriously if I'm dressed down and I don't think I take my job as seriously if I'm dressed down," he said. "When I dress more professionally, I think I teach better, I think I'm received better, and I think I show more respect for my profession."

Hmm, I think that's pretty subjective. Personally, I teach better when I'm more comfortable, but part of that has to do with being in stuffy little practice rooms all day. Or maybe there's just a little too much college professor in me. Since I do both jobs in one day, one philosophy has to predominate.

(I also have practical reasons for liking blue jeans over khakis: Since I go between schools several times a day, and often park far from the entrance to the school, I sometimes have to deal with rainy weather. When I wear khakis, I become a mud magnet; it just flocks to me. On jeans days, it never seems to become an issue, even if the weather is equally bad. At my "standardized dress" middle school [thankfully, there's only one of those], I feel obligated to wear khakis, so I'm not dressed more casually than the students, but many times I ended up a muddy mess.)

OK, here's one more that I doubt would get an argument from anyone:

Teachers set the example, said Scharffe, the Michigan official and former director of school personnel. That is why he once sent home a teacher whose belt buckle featured a marijuana leaf.

Yeah, that's a little too "cool" for any educational situation (even art school).

My personal take on this whole thing is that the whole "clothes make the man (or woman)" thing is a little overblown; it may work well in the business world, but creative types will balk at it more often than not. As I said in the previous post, there are some control issues in this as well.

So what do you think? Musings readers include teachers, students and parents, so it could be quite a lively debate. Please chime in below...

Blowing out the candles (celebrity edition): Happy Birthday to Dave Barry! He may have missed being an "All-American Boy" by one day, but he's still one of our finest humor columnists, "hiatus" or not.

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Tour de Force

Anyone who knows me or has read this blog for a while is aware that I'm a huge Tour de France fan. I'm also a happy Tour fan this summer, because the problem I've ranted about for the past two summers is no longer an issue: Comcast has added OLN to its channel lineup on expanded basic (it had previously only been available on digital cable or satellite).

I woke up in time to see the opening-stage time trial conclude just a few minutes ago, and Lance Armstrong made a definitive statement in the Tour's first stanza. In a time trial, the riders start at one-minute intervals, ending up in reverse order of last year's standings; this means that Armstrong was the final rider out of the gate, with his main rival Jan Ullrich preceding him by a minute. So it was a great moment when, with about five kilometers left in the stage, Armstrong caught Ullrich and then blew by him in fine fashion. Lance would end up in second place by only two seconds (which were likely lost when he came unclipped from his right pedal just after leaving the starting ramp), but an American, David Zabriskie, would claim the opening yellow, and Armstrong's teammate and main lieutenant, George Hincapie, would be in fourth place. Ullrich ended in twelfth overall, and none of Armstrong's main rivals would finish within a minute of him. The quest for an unheard-of seven straight Tour titles has started off quite well for Lance, and I'm happy that, metaphorically speaking, the powers that be in cable TV have allowed me to be along for the ride once again.

I shoulda guessed this: From Thursday's Bleat (which I just now got around to reading), we learn that Lileks is a Metheny fan. I always knew the man had good taste...

Look! Up in the Sky!

...no, it's not a bird, or a plane, or Superman, but it is something rarely seen around these parts lately: dark clouds. I even heard some thunder a minute ago! We're not supposed to be in the Sahara out here, but it hasn't rained in this area since early June; I personally haven't seen it since the Saturday Night Block party in Burlington, which was on June 11...wow. I opened the door a moment ago, and it even smelled like rain, so maybe the long drought (literally, in this case) is finally over for a second.

UPDATE: D'oh! After being "teased" by the storms for a while (they evidently hit Dallas proper), it's sunny again. Coming home from my workout, I find no evidence of it having rained here at all. At least the clouds we had kept the temperatures down, so I doubt yesterday's high of 100 (first time all year) was matched today. I hear there's another possiblity of storms for tomorrow; come drench my yard, will ya? I may not be all Hank Hill about my lawn, but I don't want it to be totally brown either.

NEXT DAY UPDATE: We finally got the wet stuff here overnight...and despite the theory being floated in the comments (which is more than often true), I didn't wash a single car. Of course, it's always possible that one of my neighbors did it and decided to share the wealth with the whole street.