The A,B,C's of the News - "B" is for Brett

All I wanted to do was learn more about Super Bowl XLV which was played back on Feb. 6 in the new Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, Texas. 

Even though I was supposedly Van Winkled and "asleep" at the time, I already knew very well that the Green Bay Packers had won. There had been no way keep that news from assaulting me.

There's something about sports that makes Americans less than reticent. On Super Bowl day we wear our team favorites on our sleeves even more than we do politics, religion, or favorite musical groups.

Nick Collins intercepts. Puts the Pack ahead 14-0

The day after the game, the cheeseheads (including those West Texans around here who had temporarily adopted Wisconsin and yellow and green as their ideal), were very happy. As for the Steeler fans you could tell that there was no joy to be had.

That still didn't convey to me what I really wanted to know. Had The Van Winkle Project caused me to miss a really great game? Something on par with that miraculous drive by the Giants a few years ago when Eli Manning connected on fourth down in traffic, leading to the game winning touchdown against the previously undefeated Patriots?

So eight months after the fact I read up on the game. Final score: 31-25. Analysis: a good game, not a great game.

It seems the Packers, (a 10-6 regular season, number six seed playoff team, no less!) were in control all the way, with the exception of when the Steelers made things tight in the fourth quarter. In the end the Steelers were done in by a fumble and Ben Roethlisberger's two passes that were intercepted, one early in the game being returned for a touchdown.

Was this really it for Brett? A retirement that sticks?

Somewhere during my clicking around on the web I experienced my own kind of interception. I saw a link to Brett Favre, the Packers' once great quarterback.

Oh yes, I suddenly remembered. One of my speculations when I began the Van Winkle Project had involved Favre.

I already knew that "the quarterback who has trouble retiring" was coming back for another season with the Vikings. He had nearly taken to the Vikes to the Super Bowl the previous year.

How had Favre held up? How had the Vikings done? Had he finally retired? For good?

Instead, of answers to these questions, I learned about the Brett Favre sexting scandal.

B: Brett - Dateless, Desperate (and armed with a cell phone)
All one has to do is google Brett Favre and his status is at last impeccably clear. His website is labeled:

Official Web Site of Brett Favre - Retired NFL Quarterback

Only this August Brett retired. Yes, folks. Really!

This website also has a banner headline "The NFL's Winningest Quarterback" (is "winningest" a word?) and many tabs that offer the opportunity to buy memorabilia or even have Brett send your friend a birthday greeting.

But let's not linger over Web 2.0 marketing.

Back at our google results one also learns of the bad news that was facing Favre a year ago when details of the sexting news broke at deadspin.com.

Brett Favre’s Cellphone Seduction Of Jenn Sterger 

Ms. Sterger. Harrassed, but she never met Favre.

And because stories like this sometimes refuse to die, it does not surprise me one wit that my research indicates that months later there was more air exhaled into the media balloon:

- An NFL investigation found a violation of  the players' code of conduct and hit Favre with a $50,000 fine in January. 

- Two female massage therapists for the Jets sued Favre for sexual harassment because they too were sexted (is that the past tense of the verb?).

- Jenn Sterger, Jets "game day hostess", who had been the original source of the accusations made an appearance on Good Morning America in April.

What do we now know? This was no fairy tale or shakedown. Back in 2008 Brett was hitting on women. He was using a mobile device.

He proudly filmed digital images of his reproductive organs and sent them to the object of his lust.

What a way to impress a gal. It might have made a caveman envious.

The best explanation for this kind of sleazy behavior heard didn't come from Brett. It was someone with the Jets who observed that the guy was a long ways from home. "Maybe he was lonely." And doesn't everyone know, the more lonely you are, the more pathetic you can be?

 

Judgment Day
There's really nothing to say for or against Mr. Favre at this point.

He's another athlete who was sold to us as a person of note. A fiery competitor. Also, we were led to believe, a family man and a soft and fuzzy Wrangler's jeans kind of guy off the field.

Consider how he "courted" his long-time girlfriend for 12 years before marrying her. The birth of his two daughters. This info is at: http://www.favre4sale.com/ along with wonderful opportunities to try Brett's jambalaya recipe and buy lots of neat stuff!

You see, Brett's from Mississippi. Doesn't that just scream family values? Listen to one of their Congressmen (who defeated the 10-term Democrat during the 2010 mid-term elections while I was asleep). Rep. Steven Palazzo says:

A born and raised Mississippian, I’ve learned that two of the most important issues to our state are family and the Christian faith. I understand the importance of traditional Mississippi values, and I plan to keep all of these values in mind when I represent the Fourth Congressional District in Washington, D.C. Because of my beliefs and the shared beliefs of those in our wonderful state, I will fight in Washington to protect life, the sanctity of marriage, and our Mississippi values.

Oops.

Dad and family, including the loyal wife who happens
to be a breast cancer survivor.

This week our son is supposed to deliver a monologue in his 8th grade theater class. Perhaps knowing that this particular 13-year-old has zero interest in any sports, the teacher selected a short speech that he could deliver with true feeling.

                    Our son's monologue script. Highlight added to facilitate memorization.

The gist of it is, why do we idolize people beyond their obvious physical gifts that they manifest in competition? Why assume there's anything else worthy about the person other than a strong arm or good reflexes or 300 pounds of muscle that can move other mountains of flesh?

In other words, the athlete as role model is a misguided proposition. I'm willing to bet Attila the Hun was a great athlete. And who knows? He may have been more articulate than some of these folks we shove microphones in front of and ask for their post-game thoughts.It wouldn't be all that hard. But Attila as role model? Forget about that!

Of course, I don't want to be quoted on any of this. I'm not trying to be a role model for anyone. But I will tell you one thing about my cell phone usage. I always keep it above waist level. - A.H.

The A,B,C's of the News: "A" is for Anthony (Casey)

It's been almost a month since I woke up and allowed myself the freedom to once again know what's happening in the world.

The earth turns and I confess I find myself yawning. I'm not really following any of the going-on's as closely as I used to. I'll save the why and wherefore for another day.

Then there's how I'm relating to the recent past.

Surprisingly, at least to me, I've felt very little in the way of  a burning desire to find out more about what I missed from Sept. 11, 2010 to Sept. 11, 2011.

In fact, my ultra-long "lost weekend" feels like a burden.

I'd fallen behind and felt like I had all
this catching up to do...

I'm like a student who didn't do the required reading. Now he's contemplating slogging through a stack of textbooks and reading and absorbing hundreds of pages so he can take a make-up exam.

Maybe I'm just going to sigh and take an "F".

I did have one little indulgence this week as I dipped into what I figured would be 3 small stories, one each from the world of news, sports and entertainment that occurred during the past 365 days.

I thought I could learn about these not-too-great matters with a few computer keystrokes. If it wouldn't take too much time, then, yes, I might be motivated enough to learn my A, B, C's...

A: Casey Anthony Trial
I didn't know many of the particulars of the case since the body of Caylee was found in 2008 and that had been time enough to forget. I did remember how the media had seized upon the situation (Mom with missing child and contradictory accounts given to the police) and showed signs of turning it  all into a soap opera with breaking news crawls and talking heads analysis.

Each time I saw something like that on a TV screen when I was in an airport or store I walked on past without paying attention.

So I didn't know that throughout the spring of 2011 the judicial system and the media had been ginning up for a real, live televised courtroom proceedings that Time magazine would call the "social media trial of the century."

I lived through and watched many hours of the O. J. Simpson trial back in 1995. That was bad enough. I'm glad I slept through this one.

My quick Wikipedia catching up with the Casey Anthony saga told me about a foul odor emanating from a car trunk, garbage bags, a heart shaped sticker on duct tape, and an on-line search for "chloroform." There was also something about a removable swimming pool ladder.

The main thing--that every good story or movie needs--was the "shocking" verdict. Not guilty. Perfect! It allowed the entrance of indignation, furor and controversy and what happens now!

A not guilty verdict must have been a media ratings dream...

Learning about all this (besides nauseating me) led to a link to another trial that took place while I was asleep.

Nine years ago the body of missing Washington intern Chandra Levy was found in a park where she had gone jogging. Suspicion first fell on her lover and boss, Rep. Gary Condit, who soon left office. The last I heard the crime had not been solved and I assumed it never would be.

What I learned this week was that a man who had done time for assaults in the park where Levy's remains were found was put on trial last November. He was convicted. He was sentenced to 60 years in prison in February 2011. All of this happened while I was Van Winkled and I not even a murmur of it got through to me..

Unlike Casey Anthony there was no physical evidence connecting Ingmar Guandique to the body.

Unlike Anthony an enormous time had elapsed before the police fingered him as a suspect.

The only real evidence against him was it seemed he had an apartment near the park, had attempted to rape two female joggers there in the months before Levy disappeared. And he had told a fellow convict that he killed Chandra Levy.

Why did one jury convict this man and another jury not convict Casey Anthony who admitted to hiding her daughter's body, but confessed to this only after multiple stories (one claiming a kidnapping) fell through?

She finally settled on an improbable scenario of a drowning accident in the family pool and she didn't know what to do, so she lied, hid the body, and never mind that she didn't even report her daughter missing for 31 days, there was no murder. Got that? It seems even more exotic than O.J.'s "Columbian drug dealers" who his defense theorized sliced up Nicole and Ron Goldman.

I didn't sit through the Levy and Anthony trials. I don't know the answers to why the outcomes of these two trials were so different. All I have is the pictures.


Murderer

Innocent

COMING NEXT: B is for Brett: QB Enters the Sexting Hall of Shame.

A Grave Time - Report From Austin No. 3

Last weekend when I went to a conference in Texas's weirdest city ("weird" in a good way) I realized something. We were sleeping beside the dead.

Located on the east side of I-35, across from downtown, the Oakwood Cemetery is the oldest city-owned cemetery in Austin. Some of graves date back to just before the Civil War. One story is that the cemetery was started out of grim necessity when victims of a Comanche raid were buried on what came to be called Swede Hill.

I woke early after our first night in our cushy bedroom, took the down elevator, and went for a stroll in the parking lot. I peered over the low stone fence, then I hurried back to the room. I looked at our son and I said two words: "Photo shoot."

Not to sound morbid, but it has occurred to me that my year-long project in imitation of Rip Van Winkle gives me something in common with the dead.

The dead have no idea of what has gone on in the news of late. Or the news of past decades. It has passed them by and left them with no worries. Only endless sleep.

We went out right at sunrise so we could take advantage of morning magic hour with the golden light pouring in low over the stones.

The cemetery was in a state of disrepair. We didn't see any graffiti, but many of the markers had fallen down.

Numerous formerly stately tall trees had been sawed off at about the height of a man because they had presumably died, been blown over by the wind, or been lightning struck. No new trees had been planted in their stead.

The rest of what we saw showed the effects of time which brings rain and gritty winds and buffs the stone surfaces until once important words start to dissolve like lozenges that have been held a long time upon the tongue.

And I wondered, "Is this what happens to grief?" Does baby Richard who lived only 3.5 months during one awful year of the American Civil War eventually fade along with his name and the dates so that the sorrow may always be there, but its rough edges and deep cuts are now worn away?

I'm not the only one who has meditated on such "grave" matters: Austin Chronicle.

As we continued walking, looking, photographing, I found that I could be moved by a name and a few words. As was the case with Lillie when I peered close and read the full inscription:

"A Beautiful Flower
Transplanted
by Her Heavenly Father
From Earth to Heaven."

The marker was precise about how long Lillie was with her family. She died on April 9, 1867. That made her seventeen years and five months at the time of her uprooting. A teenager who never lived long enough to fall in love and marry and become someone's wife...

There was time enough to wander further into Oakwood. A friendly cat came up and began to follow us. Even though it's home seemed to be among the dead, it was not macabre. It only wanted to be petted.

Austin's other major resting place, the state cemetery, is not far away. It is better maintained and contains many more of the famous than Oakwood, which confines itself to a few former governors and an unfortunately named oil heiress, Ima Hogg, of Houston fame.

I have to say, though, that I like Oakwood and it's feel of being something like Roman ruins. There are no pretensions here. The grass is not green and  the tallest monuments raised by the wealthy in defiance of Death have either toppled or appear starkly defeated.

It's an honest place. - A.H.

.

Sandra Bullock Licks Her Lips - Report From Austin No. 2

As I was saying last time...I was at a statewide meeting of creative writing teachers in Austin, Texas over the weekend.

On Saturday morning I sat on a panel that discussed using research in creative writing. I shared how I was drawn to research because over the course of more than 140 posts on this blog I faced the prospect of having very little to write about of significance.

In a sense this has always been a blog, as they used to say on Seinfeld, " with the potential to be about nothing."

That's because for one year The Van Winkle Project required that I subtract from my life all information about anything happening beyond the great horizon.

What did that leave a "sleeping" man with that he might comment on that might be of interest to others?

A) He could talk about his memories and mire everyone in the muck of  his nostalgia.

B) He could focus on mundane daily activities and minutae and turn the blog into a quasi-journal slash diary no one cared about.

Ugh.

What I finally decided to do was try to strike a balance by writing on some days about significant moments in my past and on other days about interesting observations from my present life. But, I told the panel, I still needed more.

Take a bow research. The starring role, played by my best 21st century friend...

Most of the time before posting I found myself digging around and satisfying my curiosity about  various matters. I then included that information in my posts.

Example: I wanted to write about the concept of "brevity" and how we value it in this era in which are days are already packed with too much to attend to. So there are shorter songs (you can count jam bands on one hand), shorter sermons, faster advertising pitches, and texts and tweets instead of emails.

This led me to remember the word "brevity" as it's used in the cult classic film The Big Lebowski. Hmm. Let's read a bit and refresh our memory about that movie as well as see what others say. And while I'm at it, what did the Spartans think about the idea of paring things down to a minimum, especially in their speech?

Voila. I had my post, The Whole Brevity Thing.

I call this kind of posting sensibility "value added." I figure only the person writing a strictly humorous blog should get a free pass from having to offer readers value added. (That's because making us laugh is an unimpeachable public service on par with helping little old ladies cross the street, i.e., already valuable enough.)

The rest of us bloggers, right up to Roger Ebert with his million viewers, owe our readers something useful, if for no other reason than as non-monetary compensation for taking up their valuable time.

What might constitute value added on a blog post?

• A recipe.
• A practical tip.
• A factoid, piece of quotable trivia.
• An interesting story from history.
• A great quote
• A ponderable insight.
• A link to something cool.
• A great photo.

So in the midst of my utterly subjective thoughts about how to blog, here's my value-added for today.

If you ever visit Austin, Texas and are looking for some excellent dining in the medium price range, try Bess Bistro on Pecan.

The restaurant is in the basement of a former bank where the vault used to be.

Friday night found us dining for the first time at Bess where we met Telmond and Jackie, a wonderful Austin couple in their eighties. They fell in love 60 years ago as UT students a few blocks away on the campus. Jackie was an Austin gal. She told us she used to live just a little ways down Sixth Street from the former bank now Bess Bistro. She remembered what Sixth was like before became the street for clubs and live music, a veritable Bealle Street of the Southwest.

Not that it matters (but quotable trivia) Bess Bistro is owned by actress Sandra  Bullock.

No  blind side here.
Sandy knows good food!

What's the dining experience like?

The most expensive dishes are in the low thirty-dollar range. There's plenty of items one can order for under $20. The cuisine is comfort food or food you've heard of, all of it coming with a twist. Like how my ribeye steak was served with braised brussel sprouts. Or the quail that arrives on a bed of grilled greens.

We found everything to  be delicious, all the way to the finale. You've got to have the beignets with chocolate sauce for dessert. Killer! - A.H.

COMING: A Walk on the Grave Side, Report From Austin No. 3


.

A Novel Idea - Report From Austin No. 1

I was in Austin, Texas over the weekend.

The occasion was an annual gathering of creative writing teachers who come from around the state to swap ideas and share their work.

I had the honor of reading a chapter from my new novel Evangel which is currently a lost puppy in search of the loving leash of a publisher.

Evangel is not a satirical novel, although at times I must say I find what the Christian faithful say and do in real life to be humorous. I often have the same response when I read the Bible. Am I the only one?

That trickster Jacob fooling his old man with a bunch of animal skins so he's as hairy as his brother Esau. Hilarious! Or there's that ultimate action hero who happens to be a half-dipstick short on intelligence, especially when it comes to women who whisper in his ear and give good massages. I speak of mighty Samson.

The New Testament is  richly humorous, too, not all sober and finger wagging like Mitch McConnell talking about the deficit. In the days before the story of Jesus turns grim and bloody his twelve disciples offer a combination of earnestness and not-getting-it that could be worked into a set of stand-up.

- Did you hear the one about Peter trying to walk on water? No, seriously, folks. He thought this was a good idea. And he can't even swim! I mean I'm afraid of heights, so I should think of jumping off a cliff?

- The other day I heard James and John were trying to book the best seats in a  place called heaven. Isn't that a little premature? Like getting your Super Bowl tickets a few thousand years early?

It's not that I don't take God seriously. I do. It's the humans in the Bible (as well as those currently walking the earth) who tend to make me laugh. I assume their creator laughs, too. Fortunately, though, the rest of the story is that the God of the Bible stops laughing just long enough to save humans from themselves. That's comedy, not tragedy...

The Sermon on Sex
There are no rules for how one goes about reading for 18 minutes from a novel. I thought it best to search for a chapter that perhaps would offer some liveliness and warm the corpuscles of the audience in the Double Tree's highly air conditioned Wildflower Room.

Ah, yes, let's try pages 92-103, what I refer to as the "Sermon on Sex" chapter.

In this section Pastor Frankie Wey offers a challenge to the married couples at On the Rock Temple Fellowship, a megachurch in Pinebridge Meadows.

"Why does the devil have all the sex?" Dr. Frankie asks rhetorically from the stage as he addresses 3000+ people. "I say it's time Christians stole back sex from Satan who has taken it and perverted a beautiful gift from God!"

To improve intimacy and strengthen marriages Dr. Frankie goes on to ask each married couple in the church to commit to the ultimate self-help regimen:

Have sex every day for seven days.

The husbands and wives are to report back the following Sunday and share the results.

This scene in my novel has roots in a real challenge a Grapevine, Texas minister issued his congregation in 2008. You can read about this notion of "putting God back in bed." here.

The "Seven Days of Sex" pastor in Grapevine, Texas also preached a sermon
earlier this year with a real Ferrari on stage.

In the sort of me-too'ism that's has long been rampant among American churches, which are just as subject to trends and fads as any other quarter of society, other preachers around the country have tried out the idea. Below is a billboard that sparked controversy when an Alabama church put it up, not because of the one-man, one-woman message, but, well, the preacher was talking about sex in church!

"Wine of Love" by Natalia Morez 2002

If you're a fiction writer and you hear about something like this, including preachers providing a public exegesis of (blush) the Song of Solomon, you think, "I've got to try this out with my characters and see what happens!"

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.

I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

Hot stuff! Somebody ought to write about it... So I did. - A.H.

COMING NEXT: Sandra Bullock Licks Her Lips - Report From Austin No. 2


.