Friday


10
Oct 14

Meditations on food

I don’t know if you have heard about The Snappening yet, where thousands of Snapchat user accounts hacked or otherwise violated, but this could be a big story. And that led to, perhaps, the most insightful thing I said today:

I said one other good thing today:

Not to make this a culinary thing, but after several Fridays of bad examples, I am disappointed to have to say that the new cafeteria vendor has ruined fried chicken. It seemed to me that they deserved a few weeks under the Benefit of the Doubt accords, and I gave them that. There are a lot of carbs on a daily basis, and the basic foodstuffs seem to rotate on something close to a monthly schedule theme — so we’ve heard. But, and this is important, Friday is fried chicken day. And they’ve missed on all of them so far, in my humble and hungry opinion. Today I noticed the menu and knew it would be no better.

Protip: There is no other fried chicken. Any attempt at making fried chicken in any way not like a grandparent does is an abject failure and poultry abuse.

I apologize for that outburst.

OK, one more food related note, Five Dairy Queen locations in Alabama fall victim to data breach. Thankfully I am not impacted. Hopefully it doesn’t effect you. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I dined at Dairy Queen. I recall the last time I ate at a restaurant that used to be a Dairy Queen. It is a barbecue place now, most remarkable for the way they cut their fries.

That former Dairy Queen is the same place where once, many years ago now, the young lady working said that they had no ice cream for their blizzards. This was in the middle of a hot summer afternoon. I always thought she should have locked the door and called it a day. No one is going for the chicken fingers in July, right?

Back to the point, with every passing data breach story I read I am more and more convinced we’ll be returning to a more cash-based exchange, soon. Customers assume a lot of risk, and they assume those retailers have their networks under control, and, sadly, that isn’t hasn’t always proved to be the case.

Sorry for all of this food talk. In a few minutes we are going to a dinner party. I’m taking my appetite.

Things to read … to whet your appetite.

Couldn’t hurt, but it isn’t a 100 percent requirement, Should all journalists be on Twitter? Think of it this way: there are plenty of community papers out there with a minimal online component, if that. They still cover their market. They are still journalists. Now, you’ll find that some topics demand Twitter or other online tools, of course. Others, the online tools could serve as a great compliment. This is the point the piece tries to dance around in a snarky fashion.

To everything there is a season, Facebook is over for teens – and Instagram and Twitter are the most popular social networks among American children

Anyone surprised? Smile! Marketing Firms Are Mining Your Selfies

This is fun, Save Local History with New Wikipedia Map:

Have you ever wondered which buildings near you are listed on the National Register of Historic Places? If you’ve ever tried to look this up, you probably had trouble finding what you were looking for because until the summer of 2014, there really was no user-friendly way to browse map-integrated National Register listings. Now, thanks to the Wikipedia Summer of Monuments campaign, there is a free, simple, and interactive map that shows all places listed on the National Register.

Ummm … oops? Police sorry for telling wrong family of death:

An Alaska couple knocked on the door of their son’s long-time girlfriend Thursday, intending to inform her that he’d been killed in a car accident.

Karen and Jay Priest instead were stunned when the son, 29-year-old Justin Priest, answered the door. They had mistakenly been told by Juneau police that he’d been killed in the crash.

Karen Priest said her husband started sobbing, and she was in shock.

Told some students this was a big story. I don’t think they believed me, at first. Pastor Juan McFarland of Shiloh Baptist church a trending subject of world’s conversations and media attention

And, finally, the link of moral indignation. School Has Child Sign ‘Safety Contract’:

“They told me she drew something that resembled a gun,” said Rebecca. “According to them she pointed a crayon at another student and said, ‘pew pew,” said Rebecca.

She said her child was given a questionnaire to evaluate her for suicidal thoughts.

“[They] Asked her if she was depressed now,” said Rebecca.

Without her permission, Rebecca said her child was given the Mobile County Public School Safety Contract to sign stating she wouldn’t kill herself or others.

“While I was in the lobby waiting they had my 5-year-old sign a contract about suicide and homicide,” said Rebecca.

It takes a village. And that’s part of the problem, wouldn’t you agree?

Honestly, this is just about the stupidest thing you could conceive. And it is happening here, which is mind-boggling.

It was a good run, but common sense appears to be losing out.


3
Oct 14

A tired Friday title

I taught a class, which is to say I returned papers and discussed some of the most pressing items contained there in. We talked about that story I mentioned earlier this week. We touched on story organization, construction and source blocking.

I made an acrostic. It was a terrible acrostic, but I repeat myself. I hated it. But it let me use a cool blocks illustration and gave me the chance to talk about the elements of a story you can move around.

I graded stuff. I left campus.

Made it home in time to visit a store and pick up some flowers. I thought we might brighten the living room with a big yellow clutch of stems and petals in a glass vase of water resting on furniture above eye level.

It works almost as well as the overhead light or the nearby torch lamp.

I took a brief ride, through the neighborhood, up one of the timed courses and then back down it. I rode one half of the time trial and then came up the double hill that ultimately brings everything me back around to the other side of the neighborhood. My times were slow. I haven’t been on my pedals in five days, I would expect nothing less. Or is it nothing more? I could expect nothing more than going slow. I could expect less. My legs could be sodden stacks of newspaper, uncooperative piles of leaves, giant petrified chunks of wood that can’t turn a gear, but bleed when I fell over after I lost balance speed.

I can’t expect anything from my front derailleur just now. I can’t shift from the big gear to the smaller, which would be helpful as I labor over a little climb. There is a trip to the bike shop in my near future.

In my immediate future, though, there is company. Friends from Indiana have come down for the weekend. The plan is to show off tailgating and football.

And also dinner. Late into the night we sat around and talked about places abroad we’d all visited and genealogy and regionalism. It was pleasant and nerdy late into the night. And I am very sleepy.


26
Sep 14

Travel day

We’re traveling to Augusta for a race on Sunday. At a red light in tiny Jackson, Georgia, I saw this historic marker.

sign

I like markers. They give the passerby just enough information to be of slim interest. Some of them may even go home, or to their phone, and look something up on Wikipedia. Or they could just be things you race by without reading even the minimum. Or you could at least get a glance from the header. “Noted Indian Trail” being the most benign one ever.

This was an important trail though, ultimately becoming the Old Federal Road, which connected Savannah to what would become Fort Stoddert in modern Mobile. The Oakfuskee Trail had routes to spots in northeast Alabama, to Oakfuskee Town which was west of Dadeville, Alabama on the Tallapoosa and several other places in between. From those paths came roads and on those roads and in those natural harbors and rivers came towns and cities and that is an important path.

Yes. I would love a used tire, and thank you.

sign

Is there a big market for used tires?

Near home there is a “Bubba’s Medicine Shop.” The place may be great, I don’t know, but I imagine it would be hard for me to shop there. I’m a Big D’s Discount man, myself:

sign

I wanted there to be an incredible backstory for Mr. Big D, especially after this next shot:

sign

Here it is, from the Progress-Argus, and it is the story of a family owned business, two generations worth. Big D is now owned by Fred’s Pharmacy, out of Memphis. Barrett Hoard sold it last year. His father, Danny, was the pharmacist Big D. The mural went up after Danny died a few years ago.

Local lore that I just made up suggests he held every pill bottle up to the light to make sure the free peppermint was on top. He looks like a guy from whom you’d be comfortable picking up an antibiotic.

Danny Hoard bought the store from Parrish Drugs in 1973.

In Jackson, for some unknown reason, there are several pink houses.

sign

Maybe it is in the medication.

We arrived in Augusta safely, just in time for dinner. We met friends at the hotel, they checked in, up from Florida, just as we did. On Sunday we are doing a half Ironman. We’re probably not prepared, but it will be a fun weekend.


19
Sep 14

Happy birthday

Today was my best girl’s happy day. We celebrated with friends and pie.

Ren

Sally Ann

Danielle

Matt

Emily

Pie

I was playing with Overgram, an app that lets you put text over your photographs.


12
Sep 14

The dangers of barbecue

We spent Monday and Wednesday talking about story ideas in my writing and editing class. Today we shifted to research tools. The conversation was all about primary sources. So I got a state accident report form from the police folks. I showed off health department forms from the restaurant inspectors. I downloaded the university’s Form 990 from Guidestar. The form is an annual reporting return that has to be filed with the government, listing programs and finances.

I started out asking “Who wants to know what the president of the university makes?”

People always want to know about the boss, don’t they?

This may be my favorite stretch of classes. Next week we’ll talk about online sources and research. It isn’t for everyone, but I’m going to try and make it interesting in the “yes, you have access to this sort of thing and there are millions of stories that can come from it” vein. We’ll see how many people are intrigued.

I got in a short ride before darkness fell, about an hour’s worth. I wimped out, taking a standard, easy route with only 700 feet of climbing. I topped out at 38.1 miles per hour. There’s a section of my cycling app that allows me to add notes about the ride. This evening I typed in “Perfectly forgettable.”

Sometimes those are the best rides. Nothing remarkable on the two little climbs, nor the one long sprint. The hills close to home slow and manageable. I caught all the lights and worked back through the neighborhood just in time to see the headlights shining. It was mindless and a great wind down from the week. It also wasn’t long enough. But, I’ll ride again in the morning and we’ll find out if I like morning rides. There might be an appeal there. But will it be more appealing than the snooze bar?

This is the best story you’ll read today. It defies excerpting, but we’ll try. This young woman found herself homeless when her lost her job. They bounced from shelter to shelter before things turned back around a bit …

‘I didn’t want to just be average.’

Koen’s family got back on its feet and found a new house her senior year of high school, but she was living in homeless shelters for most of her high school education, which made school work a little difficult.

“At the shelter you have to work and take hours and have to do chores,” she said. “Or if volunteers come to hold events or programs, it would be rude to not go. I studied when I could. I didn’t want to just be average. I had made it a goal my freshman year I wanted to be in the Top 20 every year.”

And that’s exactly where she finished—as one of about 20 students who had such high GPAs the computers named them all No. 1. She graduated high school with honors and an advanced academic diploma.

Koen just started her first year at the University of Montevallo, where she plans to join the honors program and continue to volunteer.

She is one of five young people in a scholarship competition. She’s local and remarkable, so I’m voting for Rebecca Koen.

They’re all moving stories, should you feel the need to be moved this lovely day.

Things to read … because reading makes every day more lovely.

Birmingham exports down 20 percent from 2011:

According to numbers from the U.S. Department of Commerce, in 2013 Birmingham exported $1.8 billion in goods from industries such as transportation equipment, machinery and primary metals. But that number is down 20 percent from 2011, when the city exported $2.3 billion.

That dovetails nicely with certain economic events.

You can’t see it and you can’t know why … Court won’t release costs of Gitmo camp:

A federal judge ruled Thursday that the Pentagon need not make public a document detailing the costs associated with a Guantanamo Bay prison camp used to house so-called high-value detainees.

In a ten-page opinion (posted here), U.S. District Judge Beryl Howell rejected the Freedom of Information Act lawsuit Miami Herald reporter Carol Rosenberg brought seeking records of the costs of creating or maintaining the camp.

The Defense Department said it found only one record, a single page, responsive to Rosenberg’s request. That page was classified in its entirety.

The court filing describing the reason for the classification and level of classification is itself classified

Don’t you just want to know why you can’t know how much it cost?

This happened to me in Birmingham … Visitor’s barbecue from Joe’s Kansas City gets confiscated at KCI:

Bob Porter wasn’t about to leave Kansas City without tasting our world famous barbecue.

Porter, a government affairs consultant from Washington, D.C., flew in over the weekend to attend the Chiefs game with a group of friends. Before catching his return flight at Kansas City International Airport, he stopped by the Leawood Joe’s Kansas City for a pound of brisket, a pound of smoked sausage and a small condiment cup of sauce.

Porter says he assumed the barbecue would be fine in his checked suitcase because it was wrapped in butcher paper and, for good measure, a plastic laundry bag from his hotel room. But when he arrived home in D.C. Monday and opened his suitcase, the barbecue was gone. In its place, he says, was an empty plastic laundry bag and a note from the Transportation Security Administration that said it had gone through his luggage.

“Really? That’s what you’re taking? My barbecue?” Porter says. “I’ve traveled all over the world, and I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

I had some very dangerous banana pudding confiscated by the heroic blue shirts at the Birmingham airport. It all came down to an idiotic argument about whether it was a solid or a gel. The hungry TSA worker thought it was a gel. If it was frozen, he said, that wouldn’t be a problem. Consider that. If it were a solid quart I’d have a brick, much more dangerous than your regular batch of bananas, pudding and vanilla wafers. Porter, meanwhile, was trying to smuggle dangerous brisket from here to there. Or maybe it was the artery clogging sauce.

So you can now feel much safer the next time you fly.