Archive for July, 2007

The Dead Cat Story

cat

So we were sit­ting around our apart­ment in Waco, TX., circa 1993. Tay­lor was read­ing by the win­dow, I was work­ing on my Mac Clas­sic at the table, Joel was watch­ing tele­vi­sion, Alan was gone. A cat was meow­ing loudly out­side, very loudly, we could all hear it. That went on for a few min­utes until Tay­lor got fed up and got up to scare the cat away. He opened the back door of the apart­ment and freaked the cat out. The cat darted away from our door and out into the street where it was imme­di­ately squished by a truck.

The truck dri­ver stopped. “Was that your cat?”

Tay­lor replied, “No.”

The dri­ver nod­ded and started dri­ving again, leav­ing the squished cat in the street. We all went out­side to look at the flat cat and then called our friends to tell them what just hap­pened. Patrick, Josh and Willie were amazed by the story and how quickly it all happened.

Later I went with Patrick’s girl­friend Kim to find the Branch David­ian com­pound. The com­pound was out­side of town, not in Waco as so many news­cast­ers said. It was get­ting dark and you could see the spot­lights that the FBI was using from miles away. We started dri­ving, just fol­low­ing the lights. We never found exactly how to get to the com­pound, as the ranch was on sev­eral back coun­try roads, but we had fun just dri­ving around and look­ing for it.

Kim dropped me off at our apart­ment, and as I stepped up to the front door I noticed some­thing in the door­way. There, with string tied around its two front paws and taped up to the inside of the door­way so it stood up, was the dead cat. It’s squished lit­tle body no longer bleed­ing, there was a scrawled sign read­ing “YOU KILLED ME” in red ink made up to look like blood.

I stepped over the cat and went inside, find­ing Joel and Tay­lor. I showed them the cat and we knew imme­di­ately who’d done this — Patrick, Josh and Willie.

Joel and Tay­lor car­ried the cat out to the garbage, then we called Patrick, Josh and Willie. They feigned inno­cence of the whole mat­ter at first, but after hardly any inter­ro­ga­tion they fessed up and said that they had done it. They’d thought it would be funny for us to leave our apart­ment the next morn­ing on our ways to class and see the tiny crushed cat sit­ting there in our path.

It was about at that moment that we heard some bang­ing around out at the garbage. We opened the door, while still on the phone, and peeked out at the garbage. There, dump­ing bot­tles and cans into the garbage, were 3 men in a truck. They con­tin­ued to dump their trash until some­one sneezed or some­thing and they heard us. The 3 of them jumped into the truck and took off, very quickly. It was kind of strange, we thought.

And then we remem­bered the cat. We walked out to the garbage and, yes, the cat was gone. They’d taken a squished dead cat.

Prob­a­bly going to use it in some satanic rit­ual or some­thing, but the sickos had taken the dead cat.

The First Supreme Court Case

John-Jay

In all mat­ters con­sti­tu­tional, the Supreme Court rules on the laws of the land. As of now, Chief Jus­tice John Roberts pre­sides over a court con­sist­ing of him­self, John Paul Stevens, Antonin Scalia, Anthony Kennedy, David Souter, Clarence Thomas, Ruth Bader Gins­burg, Stephen Breyer and Samuel Alito. It was under John Jay1 that the first sub­stan­tial case was decided by the Court.

In 1792, Alexan­der Chisholm of South Car­olina, the execu­tor of the estate of Robert Far­quhar, attempted to sue the state of Geor­gia in the Supreme Court over pay­ments due them for goods that Far­quhar had sup­plied Geor­gia dur­ing the Amer­i­can Rev­o­lu­tion­ary War. In 1793, U.S. Attor­ney Gen­eral Edmund Ran­dolph argued the case for the plain­tiff before the Court in “Chisholm v. Geor­gia”. Geor­gia refused to appear, claim­ing that as a “sov­er­eign,” a state did not have to appear in court to hear a suit against it to which it did not consent.

The Court, in a 4–1 deci­sion, found in favor of the plain­tiff, with Chief Jus­tice Jay con­cur­ring with Jus­tices Blair, Wil­son, and Cush­ing2, with Jus­tice James Iredell dis­sent­ing.3 The Court argued that Arti­cle 3, Sec­tion 2 of the Con­sti­tu­tion abro­gated the States’ sov­er­eign immu­nity and granted fed­eral courts the affir­ma­tive power to hear dis­putes between pri­vate cit­i­zens and States.

In 1795, largely as a result of the Chisolm deci­sion, the Eleventh Amend­ment was rat­i­fied, which removed fed­eral juris­dic­tion in cases where cit­i­zens of one state or for­eign coun­tries attempt to sue another state. How­ever, cit­i­zens of one state or for­eign coun­tries can still use the Fed­eral courts if the state con­sents to be sued or if Con­gress, pur­suant to a valid exer­cise of Four­teenth Amend­ment reme­dial pow­ers, abro­gates the states’ immu­nity from suit.4

  1. Jay was nom­i­nated in 1789 by Pres­i­dent George Wash­ing­ton as the first Chief Jus­tice of the United States. He presided over the court until 1795 and was instru­men­tal in estab­lish­ing the inter­nal pro­ce­dures of the Supreme Court and set­ting legal prece­dents. []
  2. That would be John Blair, James Wil­son and William Cush­ing. []
  3. The Court has fluc­tu­ated in mem­ber­ship size over the course of the his­tory of the United States. The Judi­ciary Act of 1789 set the size orig­i­nally at 6, but it was as high as 10 in 1863. With the Cir­cuit Judges Act of 1869, the num­ber of Jus­tices was again set at nine (the Chief Jus­tice and eight Asso­ciate Jus­tices), where it has remained ever since. []
  4. The facts for this piece come from Ask Yahoo! and Oyez! The U.S. Supreme Court Media site. []

Brush With Local Greatness, Vol. 4 : Don Henley

Don-Henley

About a year ago me and the fam­ily were at a local cat­fish joint here in Dal­las when, lo and behold, in walked an honest-to-God liv­ing musi­cal leg­end — Don Hen­ley, drum­mer for The Eagles. He was with some other guy, no idea who, and looked really old. Don, not the other guy. Any­way, I imme­di­ately thought, “That’s what being famous in the 70’s will do to you.” He looked ter­ri­ble — craggy face, almost com­pletely bald. Noth­ing like the long flow­ing hair I remem­bered him hav­ing from pics in Rolling Stone.

He ordered his food and he and his com­pa­triot sat down at a booth, chat­ting and wait­ing for their food. When his buzzer/coaster went off he saun­tered up, not a care in the world and, upon receiv­ing his food, returned to his booth and ate. No one really paid much atten­tion to him since he really didn’t look like The Don Hen­ley that you see pic­tures of and remem­ber from The Eagles and his illus­tri­ous solo career.

But my his­tory with the Don­ster went back even fur­ther than that.

Don was born in Gilmer, Texas, which is about 20 miles north­west of Longview. From what I know about the man, he lives out at Caddo Lake along the Texas/Louisiana bor­der and is a big envi­ron­men­tal­ist out there. I guess I would be too, given the fact that Caddo Lake is one of the few nat­ural lakes our state has. Any­way, his Texan cre­den­tials are true and up to date.

I’d also heard, back in the time when the Inter­net was young, that he also has a house in Dal­las, somewhere…out in the hin­ter­lands. Which brings us to my first brush with Don Henley.

It was 1995 and I was work­ing at the Book­stop near the Inwood the­ater (Where, it seems, I meet almost every­one famous that I know) and in strolls Don Hen­ley. He wanted to know where Mary Karr’s best­selling mem­oir, The Liar’s Club, was shelved. Per our train­ing, I looked it up and walked to where the book was kept. Most of Ms. Karr’s other books were kept in the Poetry sec­tion, and since the Book­stop gods had not deigned for us to have a ded­i­cated Mem­oir sec­tion, her lat­est, and all other mem­oirs, were kept in Poetry. This trou­bled Don greatly.

Why is this in Poetry?“
“We keep all mem­oirs in the Poetry sec­tion.“
“But this isn’t a poetry book.“
”…Right.“
He fumed a few moments, look­ing at the hard­back.
“Well that’s stu­pid.“
“Couldn’t agree more.“
He looked at me, taken aback a tad by my com­ment, then back to the book, then to me again. “Ok…thanks.”

And that was it. He was a pretty big jerk with me so I didn’t say “You’re wel­come,” or any­thing like that, I just walked away with­out check­ing to see if he needed more help.

Hey Don, I didn’t run the com­pany at the time, so I didn’t make the rules up, okay?

Steve Vs. Joe : The Ultimate Blue’s Clues Human Sidekick Competition

blues-clues

There are many impor­tant things going on in the world today — the Iraq war, hor­ren­dously high gas prices, a ramping-up pres­i­den­tial cam­paign and other stuff. But this may be the most earth-shattering event of all : Which was a bet­ter human side­kick for Blue of Blue’s Clues, Joe or Steve?

Steven Burns,1 who played, inex­plic­a­bly, “Steve”, was on the show from 1996 to 2002. When Burns decided to move on (one rea­son given — male pat­tern bald­ness), “Steve” went off to col­lege and his younger brother Joe (played by Dono­van Pat­ton) moved in to take care of Blue. Joe was intro­duced over sev­eral episodes where he learned the ropes of play­ing the sig­na­ture game, “Blue’s Clues”. The human side­kick would ask Blue a ques­tion and rather than answer, Blue would demand that his token human must find 3 clues that would lead to what Blue would have said.

Just once I wanted the human, upon learn­ing that Blue wanted to play the game, to say, “No. I don’t want to play Blue’s Clues today.” Would have been a short show.

So which was a bet­ter human hench­man, Steve or Joe? Both are lik­able enough, and my son is glued to either of them when they’re on the screen, but each has a dif­fer­ent style, which, after repeated view­ing (as I’ve done) becomes apparent.

Patton’s act­ing is more sitcom-y, I think. He’s a ham when he’s onscreen, kind of like a silent screen actor. He has ter­ri­ble hair, but that’s only par­tially his fault, since he was born that way. The other half of it is his fault, because he should get a cooler haircut.

Hard to believe, but Dono­van Pat­ton is a cousin of Gen­eral George S. Pat­ton.2 I think Patton’s act­ing is goofy and his char­ac­ter of Joe acts more stu­pid and clue­less than Steve did.

Steve just seemed to be played by a bet­ter actor. I actu­ally laugh at him, which isn’t say­ing much, but he had facial quirks, eye­brow move­ments, comic tim­ing. Joe seems like his mother drank while she was preg­nant with him.

So I award Steve the Ulti­mate Blue’s Clues Human Side­kick award. Con­grat­u­la­tions Mr. Burns. You earned it.

  1. You can check out Steve’s web­site here. It’s rather strange, which prob­a­bly sums up Burns. []
  2. It comes from that repos­i­tory of old peo­ple infor­ma­tion, Parade mag­a­zine, where peo­ple fre­quently bet steak din­ners over ques­tions writ­ten into the mag­a­zine. []