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It's raining today.
The bad news is that I don't get to go for my walk. So I can't eat candy, or at least I can't eat as much candy.

Not that I just stuff myself with such things, but if you don't burn the calories, you have to limit the intake more. Besides, I eat the sugar free Reese's cups, and low-carb Dove dark chocolate and raspberry things. The Dove things, by the way, are sweetened with sugar alcohols, which means you can't go nuts with them either, unless you need a laxative effect. If you do need a laxative some day , forget the drug store - buy a bag of these babies and go to town.

But I digress. It is raining today, and we're getting thunder with it. Down here in Houston you usually get just rain, with no thunder. Back in Wichita Falls or in Midland, you could usually count on some nice loud thunder for a soundtrack with your rain storm. In Wichita Falls, you could also count on some nice loud tornadoes too, but that's another story.



The 1979 tornado in Wichita Falls, TX

I remember a time when GA and I were hiking in the Smoky Mountains National Park, and when we were lying in our little tent, there was a thunderstorm crossing overhead. It was a wonderful experience - the sound would echo across the sky and reverberate. We just lay there enjoying the sounds for a while before we fell asleep.

I heard from the insurance company about our damage claim on the fence in our backyard. Our deductible is about $2000 so I'm supposed to find a fence company and get an estimate. If they can fix it for less, I won't file a claim, but if it's more I can file the claim. I have no idea what it will cost. If I were the hulk, I could just push it back into place and tamp the dirt down.


The Hulk, about to push my fence back where it belongs

But I'm not the Hulk, I'm more of a Captain Sloth.

And the sun just came out. If the sky turns blue, I will need to go run an errand or two.
Instead of blogging with no real point to make.

Summer Mummers

I miss Summer MuMmers in Midland.
I was in that wonderful event for the last three years, and I think the best of those three years was the time that GA and I sang "He drinks tequila" for the Dirty Spanish sketch in the Olio:




Phil Tytanic always told me that that experience was as close as I was likely to get to being a rock star, and he was right. It was an incredible thrill each night as we heard the audience roaring in delight as we got to the finale in the number.

It's great fun for the audience, for sure. I will make a trip to Midland this August to see the show, and I will make a point of going backstage for the final number, It's a Grand Old Flag, right after the Can Can number, which in turn is right after the Mule Train. There's nothing like MuMmers in the world, I tell you.

But the real fun is backstage. Being a part of the melodrama, or being in the Olio troupe - either or both. Mummers is like a family - a huge, dysfunctional family. If you are going to be anywhere in west Texas in the summertime, look into the possibility of visiting the Yucca theatre for a performance of MuMmers. You may have to ask for directions, but everyone in west Texas knows where it is.



If you go, say Hi to the short guy playing the hero. Heck, say Hi to any of them. Buy them a drink.

Bats

They found a rabid bat in the Claydesta building in Midland, my new old hometown.

Usually, I just smirk when a bat is seen, because it's just over-reaction, but when they capture it, you can bet your boots the little guy will have rabies.

Generally, you never want to touch a bat that lets you get near enough to touch it, especially when not in a cave. The fact that you were able to pick it up or touch it is evidence that it is sick, probably in the later stages of rabies.

That's why bats have their reputation for carrying rabies: the ones you come in contact with almost always have it.

But among the bat population as a whole, any given bat is less likely to have rabies than a farm pig. We don't fear them when caving, and in fact we do our best to not wake them up when we come upon them.

The bat flight from inside the natural entrance
of Carlsbad Caverns (photo by wm)

Yes, I've been in bat flights, and I've had them land on me when the bats were too thick for them to avoid flying into me. They always just climb up to my shoulder and take off again. I'm not the least bit nervous in such situations, but there is no way I would get near one lying on the ground.

Houston, we have a - what was that, anyway?

I suppose there are an infinite number of ways to compare cities. One common way is by crime statistics. Houston has an exceptionally high crime rate, higher even than Wichita Falls. Midland has a relatively low rate, and Missouri City (where my mail is processed) has an even lower one.

Another, more useful comparison would be the percentage of TFM's encountered on the streets and highways. Oh, you aren't familiar with that acronym? Let's bring you up to speed. A TFM is a Total Freaking Moron, but you can adjust the acronym as you please. It could also stand for Terribly Foolish Moron, but the point is that these drivers are morons, and not just normal standard-issue morons.

A standard-issue moron is a person who tailgates, speeds, and generally takes risks that don't need to be taken. He drives aggressively, he uses a cell phone without bothering to compensate for the distraction, he believes that he is a good driver when he isn't a good driver by any stretch of the imagination. These people are everywhere, and the percentage from city to city doesn't really vary enough to be statistically relevant. You see them all the time, on virtually every drive home from work. They irritate you, they make you a little more defensive as you continue your drive.

But a TFM is an amazing creature to behold. One sees them in action and one either utters an expletive involuntarily, or one prays for divine protection and truly means it. While the normal moron will change lanes suddenly and without warning, nearly taking your bumper with him, the TFM will do it in an 18-wheeler. While the normal moron will make a left turn from the right lane, forcing you to slam on your brakes, the TFM will make the same turn across four lanes of busy traffic, causing a multi-car pile up. While a normal moron will weave in and out of busy lanes of thick traffic to gain perhaps an extra car length or two, the TFM will do it at 90 mph, and his weaving will involve six lanes of traffic at once, just before darting to make his exit on the opposite side of the freeway. That's a TFM.

He is incapable, I suppose, of assessing risk - the odds of a given action resulting in unwanted consequences as opposed to the goal or reward, the degree of that unwanted consequence, and the size or quality of the reward - all at the same time. He only gets as far as "if I can get from point A to point B faster, I won't have to wait as long." He rarely considers "if I kill myself on the way, I won't even get to point B." He never considers "the minor goal of getting to point B two minutes sooner isn't remotely worth the high risk of severe pain or death involved."

I estimate the TFM percentage in Wichita Falls to be about 4%, based on living in Wichita county most of my life. For Midland, maybe 2% at the most. Sugar Land or Missouri City would be about 6%, with the worst coming out at rush hour and going dormant the rest of the time. But Houston.... I would put the score at no less than 10%. If you aren't used to Houston traffic, you cannot possibly drive more than thirty minutes without your jaw dropping to your lap in amazement at least once. You cannot remain indifferent when you have seen a motorcycle on the service road, his crying, tormented little engine audible from high on the expressway, racing at 100 mph, down there precisely because there are fewer cars in the way, which means that he won't have to weave through them quite so much. Is he wearing a helmet? I'll let you guess.

Even on a short drive, you will typically see about three cars each minute blow by you at 30 mph over the prevailing speed (never mind the speed limit). You get used to it pretty quickly, and you figure out that to deal with it, you simply stay in your lane and ignore them. You assume that if you don't do anything unexpected, they will likely miss you, much as the bats do if you get caught in a cave at sundown when they awaken. And, on the bright side, TFM's don't pee on you as they pass. Well, they haven't so far, at least.

Now, the one good thing about having such a high TFM score is that the other 90% learn to be very good drivers - careful and logical. They learn the importance of driving close to the prevailing speed, regardless of the posted limit. If the limit is 60, but the traffic is moving steadily at 50, we all go 50. If it's going 65, we all go 65, because driving at a speed that's too different, whether slower or faster, is more dangerous than merely speeding is by itself. People try to keep a distance between them and the car ahead if possible (not the distance recommended back in driver's ed - that's not possible in Houston), and though there is a tendency to push the amber lights and thus run the reds, they generally don't floor the accelerator to do this when the car in front has applied his brakes to stop at the light. The TFM's, of course, do this all the time, and then slam on the brakes, coming to rest sideways just inches behind the next car - if all goes well, that is. (Oh, yes, they do. When I see this about to happen, I move to the rightmost edge of my lane to increase the chances of being missed by the tire-screaming missile to my left).

A friend of mine who used to live here said to me the other day, "Do you know what most parents in Houston give their kids for their first car?" The answer: a Piñata.