Man About Murfreesboro - blog - funny - politics

In my never-ending effort to drag my family into the 21st century, I spent part of my weekend chasing down a monitor cable so I could hook Dollie's laptop up to the TV. My plan was to use a wireless keyboard and mouse to give us access to the internet over our hi-def TV. But I needed a monitor cable.

I stopped by a small computer store in town. It is typical of lots of locally owned computer stores: messy, unorganized and partially dissassembled computers in the back. The guy at the counter seemed nice enough, though. I told him what I was looking for and he fumbled around on the walls where dozens of cables were hung looking for a male-to-male VGA cable at least 3 feet long.

He eventually found one, but while he was looking for it, CNN (which was streaming on a monitor on a nearby desk) reported about some chatter that al Queda was planning an attack.

"Al Queda, hmmmf," the guy said. "Like some guy in a cave could do that. It was an inside job."

"I suppose al Queda made NORAD stand down for three hours?" he said. "And where is the wreckage of the plane that hit the Pentagon, oh, that's right. There isn't any. And why did the scorch marks around the Pentagon match those of an AirHawk missile instead of a plane? [I may have my armaments nomenclature wrong here] Who uses the AirHawk? The United States Air Force. And since when does jet fuel, which burns at 1500 degrees melt a building made of tungsten steel with a melting point of 2400 degrees. Oh, that's right, it's never happened. You can't change physics, my friend. Oh, and why did they find traces of thermite on over 1800 pieces of wreckage from the towers? There's a physicist at Brigam Young who has proof that there was thermite at ground zero. If the towers cam down like they said, in a pancake, it would have taken ten minutes. But those towers were on the ground within 90 seconds of being hit. They didn't pancake. They collapsed."

I'm not ready to jump on the conspiracy bandwagon over 9/11, but there are some salient questions that we have no answers to and I appreciate the fact that this guy is convinced enough to speak out, even at the risk of alienating his customers.

Rozzy went to school without panties yesterday. She did this without our knowing, of course. We would have certainly made her put on some underwear, had we known.

My entire body is one giant muscle ache. Dollie and I spent the weekend putting our kitchen back together – the culmination of weeks of effort and months of problems. It all started with a puddle of water on the floor of the downstairs bath. It only happened after using the dishwasher (which Dollie's dad installed for us right after we moved into the house). So, we assumed there was something wrong with the dishwasher.

Then we started noticing a grey water smell under the steps of our deck. The drywall of the downstairs bath began to get mushy.

A plumber was consulted and it turns out that the galvanized pipe that the kitchen sink drains into (and runs through the wall of the downstairs bath) had corroded through. To fix it required removal of the kitchen sink, the counter tops, the cabinets, the drywall behind the cabinets, the drywall in the downstairs bath and part of the ceiling in the downstairs bath.

Our house was built in 1962. The cabinets were installed in such a way as to make them nearly impossible to take out without damaging them. For example, they were nailed into place, rather than screwed, meaning we had to use a prybar, leading to damage to either the cabinets, the walls or both.

Dollie and I managed to remove the old cabinets, install the new ones, cut the counter tops (including the hole for the old sink) and install everything. It took a series of weekends, about 600 trips to Lowe's and in the meantime we've been eating off paper plates and visiting the multitude of restaurants in Murfreesboro. Thankfully, it's done now and Dollie promised me a home-cooked meal after work.

But I hurt. My arms and legs are sore. I've got scrapes on my head from wanging it moving in and out from under the kitchen sink. Regardless of my scars and wounds, I feel proud that we did it ourselves. Sure, the new cabinets don't match the old ones and sure, but we figure that whomever buys this house next will just gut the kitchen and start over anyway.

Essex, a Nashville-based outlet store that sells a lot of returned and discontinued merch, recently opened in Murfreesboro. I love a good crap store and this one is located next door to a Tuesday Morning and a Big Lots. So it's a crappy merchandise spectacular.

Anyhoo, I'm on the Essex email list and they send a notice every week or so to let me know what's new. This week it was Guitar Hero II for the Xbox 360 for $25. That included the guitar controller and the game. I immediately packed the family in the car and drove over there.

Max and I wandered the aisles looking for it, but it wasn't to be found. I saw one hooked up in the back of the store, but none on display. When we made our way back around, a saw a stock monkey packing the guitar away.

"Well," he said. "I just bought this one. I think we've got another one in the back." He brought out another box. The guitar controller was in there, but no game. He plugged the controller in and tested it out. It worked, so he opened another box and found me a copy of the game that didn't appear to be scratched.

Max and I took the game up front and the guy at the register opened the box to make sure everything was in there. He opened the game and checked the disk. Apparently, a bunch of the disks were damaged.

Since getting it home, Max has named the guitar "Trogdor, the rockinator." He and Rozzy have covered it with stickers and Max is slowly, but surely learning to rock. He's got the attitude down already.

I watched him prepare and mentioned that he was wearing the guitar backwards. He was fretting with his right hand and strumming with his left.

You know, ever since I lost a part-time gig and a scholarship to the president of the Young Republicans (long story) I've had a certain amount of animosity toward the group. In fact, I credit that moment as the turning point that cemented my political views. So, when I read about leaders of the YRs getting into trouble, ethically, legally, morally I take note and smile.

Thus is the case with Glenn Murphy, chairman of the Clark County Indiana Republican Party and president of the Young Republican National Federation. Murphy recently resigned both jobs, citing a business opportunity too good to pass up, which required him to give up any political jobs.

Murphy claims the act was consensual. But in 1998, another man filed a police report claiming Murphy tried the same thing with him while he slept.

Now, Murphy hasn't been arrested and the investigation is ongoing. If convicted, he'll join a long list of Republican conservatives who are registered sex offenders.

The family and I recently attended a farewell party for some friends. Lori is moving to Georgia to teach at a university there. Her husband, Smitty and the girls will remain in Murfreesboro for a while until Lori decides if this is a good fit.

My buddy Henry is off to graduate school in Iowa and this time he's taking his wife and kids with him. They'll be gone for two years.

I have yet to watch any of the presidential candidate forums, debates, what have you. It's too early and the field is to wide open. There will be plenty of time for that . . . you know . . . during the election year.

I had a disturbing dream this morning that woke me up about 5:15 a.m. and wouldn't let me get back to sleep. I dreamt that my company had a client who bore a striking resemblence to John Edwards (but it wasn't John Edwards). Dollie and I and a couple of co-workers were having dinner at some guesthouse that the client was occupying while he was in town. As the evening wore on, he became increasingly drunk and obnoxious. This behavior, culminated in him getting a bit gropey with Dollie.

She left the room to collect herself and I told him he was out of line. He became verbally abusive and finally took a swing at me. He missed (being sober, I easily dodged) and I pushed him, causing him to fall down. This made him angry and he yelled that he was firing us.

Cut to later that evening when I'm meeting with the boss. He has learned that the client has fired us and is upset. Just as I'm about to tell my side of the story, I wake up.

It was one of those dreams in which I'm relieved to be rid of, but it stuck with me for the rest of the morning. Still, like with most dreams, as the day wears on it seems silly and inconsequential.

We've been having a problem of late with Max being uncomfortable sleeping in his room. We've given him a later bedtime, now that he's nine and he likes the idea that Rozzy has to go to bed an hour before he does. But by the time he's in bed, Dollie and I occasionally decide to move downstairs and watch TV or look something up on the computer.

If Max figures out that we're not upstairs, he starts hearing things and gets a little frightened. So, he comes downstairs and mumbles something about us coming back up. After a few nights of this, we got a little upset because we couldn't figure out what was bothering him.

Then the other day, Dollie nailed it. She was making an offhand comment about hearing a noise.

Then I remembered my youth and how I was afraid of alien abduction. I was also afraid of Bigfoot. I'd pretty much grown out of it by 4th grade, though. He's a big boy and getting bigger every day. But he's still a child who likes stuffed animals. He likes to make them fight each other.

I'm not an expert on global economics or even domestic economics. But I've had to read a lot about the sub prime mortgage meltdown as part of my job. So I understand the basics. Essentially, the economy was such that lending institutions had access to lots of liquid capital (cash). The housing boom and the ready credit made it very easy for someone looking to buy a house (but unable to get qualified for a traditional mortgage) could get a loan on the "subprime" market.

These loans tend to be expensive and are loaded with gimmicks like teaser rates, balloon payments and rates that "adjust" after a few years to double your payment.

Once you close on a mortgage, more often than not the lending institution will sell that loan to another company. That company may bundle that loan with a thousand or more others and sell the bundle as a security, meaning that mutual fund managers and brokers can invest money in these bundles and take a share of the profits.

These bundles, however, will contain a certain percentage of subprime loans (as much as 18 percent in some cases). So, when the person who was forced into a subprime mortgage cannot pay, the mortgage defaults. If you have enough of these loans defaulting, then the bundles of mortgages all these fund managers and brokers bought into begin losing value (as much as 18 percent in some cases).

So, panicky investors want out. Fund managers have to raise the cash to pay the investors, but they can't sell the bundles of loans because valuing them has become too tricky. So they sell off shares in other, more stable market products. This is what's referred to as the sub prime virus spreading to other businesses.

Now, the lending institutions are having a hard time accesssing enough cash to offer traditional mortgages to worthy borrowers. Yesterday the biggest bank in France (and the second biggest in Europe), BNP Paribas, announced that they were suspending two of their funds which are heavily invested in the American sub prime market, because they cannot reliably value them.

In response the Fed injected $19 billion in cash into the system in hopes of easing the fears, relieving some of the credit pressure and giving lenders access to ready cash. The Europen Central Bank (ECB) put in $83.6 billion and the Bank of Japan put in $8.5 billion.

It hasn't worked yet as skittish investors see this as an ominous sign of worse problems ahead.

What's bothering me is that in the midst of all of this, virtually nothing is being done to help the poor person who is in danger of losing his home. Where is the ready cash for the non-profits who offer counseling for housing issues and help with restructuring debt? The Senate has been working to pass a bill since April and with the August vacation going, it will be October or November before anything gets done to help the people who are hurting.

See that? When banks and big business are in trouble for investing in unwise loans, the reaction is swift. But when the people are in trouble for the same thing, they can wait months for relief. There is a proposal to free up restictions on Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac to allow them access to more credit, but that's no guarantee of help. As the NYT put it:

	What is absolutely crucial, however, is that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac be required to use that enhanced capacity to help homeowners who are in distress. That means buying only from lenders who commit to using their newfound capital to refinance loans for borrowers now facing default and foreclosure. Otherwise, easing the restrictions could end up doing a lot for lenders and investors and very little for Americans who are in the direst straits. Many strapped borrowers stuck in subprime loans, with adjustable rates that reset sharply upward, could have qualified for higher quality loans to begin with. Instead they were steered into the subprime variety by brokers who earned bigger fees by making dodgier mortgages. Now that the lenders are suddenly in trouble and credit standards have been tightened, those borrowers cannot refinance into higher quality, more affordable loans. They clearly deserve help to keep their homes. In other instances, borrowers who had weak credit a few years ago and so had no choice but to take out subprime loans, now have track records of good payments. They, too, should be allowed to refinance into loans that would let them keep their homes. Policy makers must also acknowledge that even if the limitations are eased on Fannie and Freddie — and the freed-up credit is used to help responsible borrowers trapped in irresponsible loans — there will still be many more struggling homeowners who need help.

We're in the countdown to my birthday. Just 16 days until I turn 39. In truth, the only place I make a big deal about my birthday is here. At home, there are gifts and a weekend of bending my family to my will, but it's all done very tongue in cheek.

I'm still of the mind that birthdays are no big deal. Talk to me again in a year when I turn the big 4-0.

Actually it was a pre-test, but because Max did so well, he doesn't have to take the actual test today and can, in fact, bring a toy to school to play with while the less fortunate students take their spelling test. I'm extremely proud of Max because spelling is a big challenge for him. Dollie and I both worked with him the night before and apparently it paid off.

This has also required me to relearn some grammar and spelling rules that were buried, long dormant, in my aged brain. Some of which, by the way, aren't very acurate at all.

"When two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking." That was a rule I learned to help with vowel blends. "Pair" and "jail" for example, follow this rule. But "Steak" and "break" do not. All four of those words were on his test. So my rule went out the window.

I've always heard that English was a difficult language to learn because there were too many exceptions to the rules. That didn't really sink in until is was taking German in college. German in an inflected language in which the nouns have a gender associated with them so any articles will have to reflect that gender.

You say Das Madchen for "the girl" but "das" is the article associated with neutered nouns, not feminine ones. When I laughed at that in class, the instructor took offense and explained that, while it may seem silly to Americans that the German language essentially treats young women as "it" rather than "she" it's not because of gender equality issues, because of the way the word is spelled. German follows the rules.

Our phone was fixed a day early. That was good because I had to use it to make a 90-minute call to DirecTV customer service because my DVR stopped showing a picture on either of the high definition outputs. Both HDMI and the composite ports went blooey, I guess.

So, I did what I always do: reset the system, unplug and replug everything. Shut down the DVR for several minutes and reboot. It didn't change anything. So I called.

Then they made me reset the system, unplug and replug everything, shut down the DVR for several minutes and reboot. Explaining that I'd tried all that didn't seem to cut any ice.

"Look, it's the reciever," I explained. "The TV still works because the Xbox is still in high def. I can still watch TV through the RCA outputs. It's the receiver. Send me another one and I'll put it in."

Nope. Can't do it. We'll have to send out a technician to check out your receiver and install a new DVR if it's needed. The charge for that is $70.

"Whoah," I said. "This is your DVR. I'm paying $5 a month to lease it from you. You're not charging me $70 to send someone out to replace your DVR with another DVR you own. Not when there is so much competition in the market right now for my entertainment dollar."

Bottom line. They're sending a guy to replace the receiver, but they're not charging me for it.

But for the last couple of days, I've been watching TV in standard definition. I feel like Homer Simpson.

"Lousy low definition TV . . . picture's so blurry . . . might as well be rubbing dirt in my eyes . . . "

In Tennessee right now, the big story is about a preacher who was arrested for indecent exposure and public drunkenness. Tommy Tester is pastor at Gospel Baptist Church in Bristol, Va. and host of a Christian music program on WZAP in Virginia.

	JOHNSON CITY, Tenn. (AP) - The minister of a Baptist church has been charged with indecent exposure and driving under the influence, and police officers say he propositioned them. Tommy Tester, 58, of Bristol, Va., was wearing a skirt when he was arrested last week after allegedly urinating in front of children at a car wash, police said. Police also said Tester offered to perform oral sex on officers who were sent to the scene.

It is men like this who give the hardworking and decent men and women of faith a black eye. Tester obviously has some problems and I'm certain his congregation is praying for him. But at least one account of the story has him exposing himself to children while urinating on the wall of a carwash.

A man who leads a congregation is not supposed to be perfect. But he's also not supposed to drive across state lines to put on women's clothes, get drunk and proposition cops.

I received this email as part of some wide distribution of nonsense under hysterical the subject line: DON'T ACCEPT THE NEW DOLLAR COINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK.... WE HAVE SAID WE WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN..........BUT....IT HAS!!!!

LET'S ALL SHOW WHAT WE ARE REALLY MADE OF AND PUT THIS COIN OUT OF CIRCULATION!!!!!

SEND THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW!!!!

THIS MAY BE OUR 1ST AND LAST CHANCE TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

U.S. Government to Release New Dollar Coins

You guessed it
'IN GOD WE TRUST'
IS GONE!!!

If ever there was a reason to boycott something, THIS IS IT!!!!

DO NOT ACCEPT THE NEW DOLLAR COINS AS CHANGE

Together we can force them out of circulation.

Please send to all on you mail list !!!

There are a lot of arguments I can make about what's wrong with this. There are separation of church and state issues, there are religious tolerance issues (which includes tolerance for people who are not religious) and all kinds of points about those who's religion doesn't include our historical concept of God.

But the best argument I can come up with is that the words "In God We Trust" do actuall appear on the coin. It's inscribed, along with "E Pluribus Unum" and the year it was minted, along the edge of the coin.

Calm down people. If it offends you that much, just send them to me.

I've seen more movies in the last week than I have in the first half of the year. Weird. Last week Dollie and I went out on a rare weeknight date to see "Hairspray." I loved the John Waters film and really expected to enjoy this new movie which was based on the Broadway musical which was based on the John Waters film.

I did. Very much. I spent a great deal of time, though, trying to figure out where I'd seen the actor who plays Corny Collins before. It was one of those things that just kept picking at me and picking at me. Turns out that he played Cyclops in the "X-Men" movies. Who knew he could dance and sing?

The actress who played Tracey was wonderful. John Travolta (who played Tracey's mom) was great. It was just a very fun film, that may have gotten a little preachy in the third act, but the final number made up for it.

We took the kids to see "The Simpsons" on Friday. I'm a huge fan of the show, so there is virtually no way I wouldn't enjoy the movie. The filmmakers got it right. It wasn't a masterpiece and didn't make me belly laugh or anything. But it did what all the really great episodes (and there are more than 400 episodes) do – provide me and my family a week's worth of funny quotes to throw at each other. Max hasn't stopped throat singing since we left the theatre.

Finally, I took Max to see "Transformers." We've been putting off going because Badger wanted to see it with us, but he's been ill and finally said "just go on without me." It was the "Citizen Cane" of giant robots tearing each other to pieces films. There wasn't much of anything you might consider a plot and there was virtually no setup, so the action started immediately and didn't let up.

The other really great thing about the film was that Megan Fox was in it. I assume she's on every casting director's list under the keywords: hot, brunette, teenager.

The film didn't have much to do with the cartoon that I grew up watching, but they used the orginal voice for Optimis Prime. At one point there was some discussion between the main character's parents in the film about masterbation, which got the audience laughing. Max leaned over to me and asked "What's she talking about?"

This pretty much takes care of the summer blockbuster season for me. I hit just about every film I wanted to see. I missed the pirates movie, but that's not all that tragic.

When I went to call Badger to see if he wanted to go with Max and me to see "Transformers" I found that my phone was dead. No dial tone. Used to be, If I couldn't get a dial tone, I'd just unplug the TiVo from the phone line and let the connection reset. But the TiVo isn't hooked to a phone line at the moment. So, I was stymied.

I called BellSouth (excuse me, the "new" AT&T – uh, didn't you have to break up back in the '80s?) on Dollie's cell phone and went through the automated process of reporting a problem. The machine put me on hold while they tested the line. Several minutes later, a voice came back on.

"We have detected a problem and have generated a request for repair," it said. "You can expect this problem to be resolved by . . . Tuesday . . . . July . . . . 31. We're sorry for the inconvenience."

So we're without phone or internet service until tomorrow. The real problem is that if you call my home, you'll hear it ring and keep ringing. Nothing alerts you to the fact that our phone is dead.

I meant to write that, the day before Max's first day back in school, we took the family on one last summer hurrah to Nashville Shores. This is a waterpark with a few slides and a couple of pools and lots and lots of tattoos, leathery skinned people and really unattractive fat guys in too-small bathing suits.

Oh, there was some quality gawking to be had, for sure. But it was few and far between. By far, the most exciting slide is called "Fear Fall." It is essentially a big, yellow half-pipe. You drop about four stories on an innertube and slide up the other side. You go back and forth like that for a few turns before wading out at the bottom.

The initial plunge is nearly vertical. When Dollie went down, she said the woman in front of her was crying, while her husband made fun of her.

I went up and got set in the tube. The park monkey dragged me toward the lip of the drop and, just as I was about to go over, he spun the tube. I ended up going down backwards, spinning as I dropped.

It's amazing how quickly this blog falls to the bottom of the pile of things I need to do. Work is crazy right now and it doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon. I'll update when I can and thank those who continue to read despite my flakiness.

Max started 4th grade yesterday. Rozzy starts kindergarden on Friday. We've been hitting all the major retailers all week long to buy back-to-school supplies for these two. Max's list was particularly daunting. It required two giant shopping bags stuffed to the gills.

The night before Dollie and I sat and checked everything off, writing his name on every notebook, binder, t-shirt, disposable camera, dry erase board/marker/eraser, box of tissue, roll of paper towels, pack of pencils, bag of candy, box of crayons, box of markers, box of colored pencils, box of poster paints . . . you get the idea. It was ridiculous. There were something like 48 items on his list.

His teacher was nice and, since she's the chair for the 4th grade, knows her stuff and won't let Max get away with anything. She made the point that the 4th grade begins a period in which they start expecting more from the students in terms of maturity and responsibility. The homework increases (she promised homework every night and an arts-integrated project due every Friday) and Max's class is in the big kids hall.

When he was in kindergarden, one of his favorite things was to have his "book buddy" from the higher grades come to class and read to him. This year, he's going to be a book buddy to some young student.

Dollie is excited about school starting for the first time in a long while. She's going to be a student this year, instead of a teacher, which makes a big difference, I guess.

We're preparing to batten down the hatches as far as expenses are concerned. We're down one income for the near future and things are going to get very tight. But in the long run, we'll look back on this as a big turning point for our family. Dollie is changing careers and opening up new opportunities for everyone.

Poor Lindsey Lohan. Of all the skanky Hollywood hoe-bags, she's my favorite and to see her be so dang stupid as to get arrested for DUI just two weeks out of rehab . . . well . . . it's just sad. And stupid. She was wearing a SCRAM ankle monitor which alters her keepers that she's been drinking.

"The Simpons Movie" opens this weekend and I, for one, am very excited. So are my kids. But we have a rule in our house. They can't watch an episode of "The Simpsons" until I've watched it first to make sure there is nothing too . . . uh . . . overt in it. So, the movie may be a problem. It's rated PG-13, which isn't surprising. I may have to see it twice.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I watched the first two episodes of "Rock of Love" on VH1. I am not a fan of Brett Michaels or of Poison, but I caught the previews during the "World Series of Pop Culture" and it looked like it passed my benchmark for watching a "reality" series – pretty people doing stupid things.

Take Brandi C., for example. She's listed on the site as a "Message therapy student" from Orlando. Fla. After losing a challenge to another busty blonde, Brandi told her she wanted to kick her because she was jealous. This devolved into a name-calling squabble in which the other girl said something about the "meth scars" on Brandi C.'s face.

As it turns out, the scars are from a car accident and Brandi C. is very sensitive about them. Sensitive to the point of crying in the closet. She then runs to Bret and complains that the other girl made fun of her face, "which is like a disability."

It would be funny if it weren't so sad. And I can't look away because it makes me feel so very good about myself.

Oh and I totally rocked on "The World Series of Popular Culture." I'm sure it would be different up on stage and all, but if I could get to NY, I'd put a team together.