“Valentine’s is a shoddy excuse for super commercialism.”

“Why do I have to spend hundreds of dollars on this day just because someone decided I have to?”

Give me a break! It’s Valentine’s Day. Stop whining and go love somebody.

And on that note, here are some last-minute gift ideas for those less prepared and still indignant.

Chocolates for Valentine’s Cooking Class at Central Market – for $60/person, you and your sweetheart can enjoy making truffles and rochers and eating them too. You don’t even have to leave your room to make reservations.

Make your own bouquet with some fresh flowers from Sam’s Club. I know, Sam’s Club? But don’t dismiss this Walmart conglomerate yet. They always have sprightly blooms that last longer than you’d think possible. Gerbera daisies are definitely under appreciated.

You can either spend $70 for a box of Godiva truffles… OR spend $5 and 20 minutes to make your own chocolate-dipped strawberries that will surely be deemed thoughtful. You can buy Baker’s Dipping Chocolate at almost any grocery store, and strawberries are about $2.50-$4.00 right now.

You really like this chick? Get a record player that fits your budget, plan a date and head to your nearest record store or Half Price Books. Everyone loves music, and vintage is always in. (Thanks for this idea, James Logan!)
(Note: If she doesn’t like it, keep the player and get rid of her. You shouldn’t keep a girl that can’t appreciate your refined taste.)

Lakewood Theater provides the invaluable service of private screenings you probably couldn’t afford at any AMC. You might not get it for Valentine’s Day, but handing someone a “Private Viewing” ticket in any situation screams classssy. $500 and bring any movie you want.

I usually don’t promote things like jewelry, but I guess other girls like that kind of stuff. And if you have one of these, steer away from places like Zales. Anthropologie has a wide selection of unique pieces she’s bound to fall in love with. She might love it more than you. MeVs will not be held liable in such an event.

DO NOT give gift cards, iPods with your favorite play list (this generation’s mixed tape, but was out two years ago; and she probably doesn’t even like your music anyway), love coupons as the only gift, or anything you think her friends could possibly be getting (you’ll get the bitch-face for two whole weeks).

Gifts are such a weird thing. There are so many rules, financial back-breaking, and headaches; but find the perfect one, and the look on the recipient’s face definitely makes it worth it. Happy Valentine’s from all of us at MeVs!

You can’t tell upon a cursory glance, but Galveston has recovered a lot since Hurricane Ike. And even though it’s in the middle of winter, people are still migrating from the north to catch a glimpse of the gulf. Even Schlitterbahn is open with its indoor pool. (I don’t see the appeal, but to each his own.) MeVs was there with three main itinerary items: The Aquarium Pyramid, Festival of Lights/Ice Skating, and Hotel Galvez/Bernardo’s.

We were particularly excited about the aquarium for the penguin population. The one in Dallas has a few scattered here and there, but not enough to satiate our need for cute glacial Aves. I do have to say the the Moody Garden’s landscaping is top-notch. There is something seductive about a line of well kept palm trees. The Rainforest Pyramid was closed for construction, but the exterior view of monoliths took us a second to take in. That is pretty much where the magic ends. The aquarium wasn’t anything too spectacular. Not even the penguins. Birds waddling around in their ennui existence doesn’t exactly scream enchantment.

The Festival of Lights was also anticlimactic. The lights were there, but the festival part was definitely left to be yearned. There were plenty of people walking around the park, but the spirit of Christmas wasn’t. Especially when I overheard a Mom reprimand her child, “Why would I get you that stuffed penguin when I can get it at the dollar store for cheap?” Yes, because holiday cheer is sold at the Dollar Tree. The ice rink was a mid-size party tent with a cramped skating area. The only redeeming exhibition of the night was a fire performer that managed to draw in a vivacious crowd generously exalting oohs and aahs.

Hotel Galvez was an interesting experience for MeVs. We came expecting a Rick’s Café Américain feel, but ended up with more of a “Hotel California” eeriness. Understandably, the hotel wouldn’t be filled with zestful humans in the winter, but the empty halls and restaurant made it hard for MeVs to not feel vacant inside. At 12:00, no bellboy was there to greet incoming patrons, no one manned the counters, not a soul could be seen. Hotel Galvez is without a doubt the antithesis of Caesar’s Palace. (Bernardo’s crab cakes deserve a mention. Nothing but crab. Seriously, no fillers. Perfect!)

The city was definitely not a marvel, but as we drove down the Sea Wall at night, we inadvertently looked up through the sunroof and saw an agglomeration of twinkling stars. It brought everything into perspective: There is beauty everywhere, no matter how simple. And we suppose that is the appeal of Galveston. It’s dirty most of the time, it’s not a city of hustle and bustle, but it’s certainly a charming little place – one we’ll certainly return to time and time again.

The History: The Red River Rivalry a.k.a. the Red River Shootout is the annual battle for pride between the University of Texas Longhorns and the University of Oklahoma Sooners. It is arguably the greatest rivaly in American sports. For both teams, the rivalry is bitterly emotional and territorial in nature relating to the two states’ close proximity, past border disputes and economic and cultural differences.

The Venue: The series began in 1900 and has been played in Dallas since 1912. Dallas was chosen as a “neutral” site since it is situated approximately halfway between Austin, Texas and Norman, Oklahoma — the locations of UT and OU, respectively. Besides being the stomping grounds of local business Victory Sport Taekwondo, the Dallas Fair Grounds really only exists for one reason, TX/OU weekend. Vendors, investors and small business owners alike rely on this Texas phenomenon to propel their sales out of the red. Since the weather in Dallas has been quite gnarly the past week, I’m sure cotton candy sellers are rejoicing all around.

The Atmosphere: Any blindfolded Dallasite can tell you when TX/OU weekend is approaching. The city inherently changes character. Burnt orange and crimson become acceptable work colors and all your co-workers coincidentally disappear after lunch on Friday. You really can’t blame anyone though. For a city that claims itself as a booming metropolis, there really isn’t anything the entire community can get behind. The Dallas Cowboys continue to disappoint and even Joe the plumber couldn’t get tickets to a game if he could afford it. With basketball season in its infancy, post graduates who have flocked to Dallas for jobs have a chance to taste the sweet flavor of college football again this very weekend.

The Importance of being Orange: Since the 2006 National Championship domination commanded by the once golden Vince Young, the University of Texas brand has undeniably increased in merit and credibility. In an economy where times are hard and jobs are being cut without warning, a solid backing of a National Championship school definitely gets your name in the conversation. In short, Vince Young helped me get a job. With the new rise of local country boy Colt McCoy, my diploma is becoming more and more valuable. Yes, I like the game of football. Yes, I’ve been seen in the wave of burnt orange at Darrel K. Royal on more than one occasion. But after those short-lived super Saturdays, I’d like to think my allegiance towards Texas Football went towards something greater, contributions toward a bigger picture. So if you’re out at the Fairgrounds chomping down on turkey legs and fried butter at 10:00 a.m. or snuggied in your bed enjoying your day off, show a little color this Saturday. You never know, Colt Mccoy might be your best referral at your next job interview.

MeVersus MONOLITH 2009:

Saturday, September 12

sold out emergency ponchos

From the moment we walked onto the grounds of Red Rocks, it was obvious the weather would be the starring attraction for the day. Rather than the intermittent and quickly passing rainstorms that had been described to us by countless Denver natives, the rain remained a constant annoyance from minute one with few breaks from the incessant, spitting drizzle the rest of the day. The gray, hanging clouds robbed the famous surroundings of any color and the temperature was just low enough to affect anyone without a rain poncho – of which there were many.

The Answering Machine

Still, we didn’t fly out to Denver to bitch and moan and they don’t sell hater-aid at Red Rocks. For any newb to Red Rocks, it’s surprising to see how much they’ve built around the natural stage. The impressive guest center and additional stages complimented the festival proceedings well. We first caught the UK’s The Answering Machine at one of the indoor stages and left intrigued by their similarity to an American band, The Ramones.

Our first impression of the famous amphitheatre itself was OK Go at the main stage. They were able to get the crowd moving to their trademark anthem “Here It Goes Again,” but their formal dress stood in stark contrast to the dripping festival goers. Lead singer Damian Kulash admitted as much in saying, “It’s a little sissy ass of me to be under this tent,” after which he jumped from the stage to perform his next song in the rain as well (half jokingly describing a possibility of death by electrocution .)

At the top of the amphitheatre was The Walkmen on the Southern Comfort stage. Hamilton Leithauser’s amazingly sharp voice cut through the gray midday, reaching a crescendo with the churning drums and long wails of the song “The Rat.”  Still, they could muster little out of the crowd, whose initial festival enthusiasm was visibly blunted by the increasing rain and chill wind.

Back on the main stage, M. Ward’s eerie Western folk actually made for a great accompaniment with the day’s melancholy; finger picked twangs of his acoustic guitar sounding especially rich. Perhaps it’s only natural a Portland native could seem so at home in the soaked surroundings.

Doom

We ascended back up to catch Doom, which suffered from technical difficulties and was delayed into half his set. You could tell the audience had a short fuse: catcalls and yells began despite the emcee’s best efforts to please the waiting mob with off-the-cuff freestyles. The crowd noticeably began to thin soon after the show began. Doom himself didn’t help much, stomping around stage doing little to match the mindless bouncing posse around him. Though our noses were stuffed from the cold weather, the stink of predictable generic hip-hop antics still made it through. MeVs has strong suspicion that Doom was lip-syncing the rhymes as well, recalling a SXSW show that sounded nothing like this set.

Greg Gillis and company

Girl Talk then did his best to rally the masses, bringing his signature party atmosphere, toilet paper guns, balloons, confetti, and dance troupe to the amphitheatre stage. He did as good a job as can be expected under the worsening rain: standing next to the main speakers as my body vibrated like a Mexican jumping bean, it was easy to ignore the evening chill as we danced to his lighthearted mixes. Gillis managed to corral a rain soaked mob to sway with his mash-up masterpieces. One might say the drops of moisture added to the chaotic awesome, like confetti at a parade. Still, the Red Rocks stage did come with its drawbacks. Unlike aforementioned venues Lollapalooza and Sasquatch, the main stage had a gaping VIP and media area that created a visible and emotional division between the stage and the crowd, an uncharacteristic distinction for a Gregg Gillis performance.

Kevin Barnes of Of Montreal

The low point of the day came with the Of Montreal set back at the SoCo stage. MeVs was eagerly anticipating this set after being notably blown away by their shows at Norman, Sasquatch, and Houston’s Summer Music Fest. But this entry left much to be desired. Perhaps the stage was still suffering from the sound problems which had plagued Doom, but the music sounded surprisingly flat and droning, and even Kevin Barnes seemed listless. After the show, murmurs of,  “what the hell just happened?” lurked throughout the dissipating crowd.  It seemed the weather had claimed another victim. We hope to see a resurrection at Fun Fun Fun Fest.

Karen O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Alas, day one would find some redemption. Surprisingly, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were the antithesis of the day’s drawbacks.  Lead singer Karen O seemed hell bent on saving the day with her uninhibited dancing, soulful crooning, and dramatic poses,  re-injecting some electricity into the evening. An especially poignant moment came with recent popular track “Maps” – after she had quietly whispered the lines “They don’t love you like I love you,”  paused a moment, then ran forward to the crowd with an emphatic “I DO!” She could have been speaking about every other act at MONOLITH. There’s no doubt this was the premier act of Day One.

We ended the day grateful for warm showers and dry drying socks.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Kid vs. Wind - Kid ftw

After much needed rest and shelter (Thanks Cassie and Kyle!), MeVs recharged and fueled up in anticipation of the day’s events. Things were going to be much better for the festival’s second installment when seeing first clear sight of Red Rocks, rather than the uniform gray from the day before. Though clouds and intermittent sprinkles did threaten from time to time, the weather was far more agreeable and the sun even made a few bold appearances.  In turn, the festival not only drew more attendees that second day, but also began with a palpable sense of renewed energy in the air.

Cheeky vocals from lead Ami Shalev

And what better way to kick off the events than with our favorite Israeli garage band, The Monotonix. They brought their fist pumping, hair-ridden act to the same Southern Comfort stage that had taken so many casualties the day before. Lead singer Ami Shalev led the crowd through primal choruses of whoops when he wasn’t dousing them with nearby liquids or ass-cheek monologues, sprinkled with classic stints of crowd surfing and instrument tossing. Though, we suspect they were told to turn the crazy down a notch for MONOLITH: the show stopped oddly short and Shalev didn’t climb or launch himself from the stage rafters as he has done at every other opportunity. Still, the show was trademark chaos from start to finish and we left disheveled, sweaty, and bruised.

Due to MSTRKRFT canceling , some shows were reshuffled in the afternoon and the resulting confusion was only increased by the poor communication – a remarkable mistake for such a small festival ground. Still, we were able to catch a couple of groups bringing dance and electronic beats to the afternoon crowd: the trio The Glitch Mob on the main stage, and the French Horn Rebellion in the diminutive MadeLoud.com stage.

Red Man

This dance warm-up was followed fittingly with Method Man and Redman on the Main Stage, who were surprisingly entertaining in a scene not often associated with hip-hop prowess.  The duo incessantly jumped from one end of the stage to another, constantly evoking the crowd’s love of all things 90′s and Wu-Tang.  At one point, Method Man, dressed appropriately in Colorado Rockies merchandise, eagerly ran into the midst of the crowd with an unrestrained and infectious enthusiasm. It did seem as though their entire tour was a brilliant marketing act to reinvigorate viewers for 2001 Emmy award winning How High. I would’ve kindly left this conspiracy at that, until they unveiled their current efforts for upcoming blockbuster,  How High 2… Though it was obvious the group was relying upon cached star power from their glory days, they still managed to channel it into a riotous midday set. Word.

The early evening slot was filled with a pleasant surprise from rising stars Deer Tick, who played on the intimate Woxy.com indoor stage. Their mix of folk, country, and grunge definitely suited the cozy room.  Then a small taste of Passion Pit back at the Southern Comfort Stage, whose spirited electronic rock helped carry us over as we began to wait for a MeVs favorite, Chromeo.

Dave 1 of Chromeo

Coming out to flashing strobes and the wailing chants of “Chromeoooo…” P-Thugg and Dave 1 went through the full line of their greatest hits, taking time in between songs to talk of upcoming plans (Texas tour!!), give props to fans, and spit on the talk box from behind their instantly recognizable stiletto-heeled keyboards. Dave 1 mentioned the release of a song in the coming weeks from a yet-to-be-named new album in development. Finishing the set off with an encore of the tender “100%,” the two even stayed after to sign autographs and take photos with needy girls. As much as Karen O had done the previous night, Chromeo produced some true Bonafide Lovin’ for their devoted fans.

Still dazed and confused from the electricity of the Gangsta duo, we made our way over to see The Mars Volta and were treated to a taste of their high-energy mix of heavy metal, punk, and psychedelic rock. Singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s wailing ballads were an oddly serene send off as we got our final view from the Red Rocks amphitheatre, a shrouded downtown Denver glowing in the distance.

Happily dying Chromeo fan

And so ended MONOLITH 2009.  Those who were able to overcome the difficulties of weather visibly demonstrated what separates the average artist from a true performer.

It’s a shame Saturday was so affected by the gloomy conditions, but it’s simply a case of bad festival luck. If anything, a valuable lesson was learned: always pack that emergency rain poncho. Thanks Mom.

More pictures after the jump >>

Vegas, the city where the rich go to flaunt, the meager go to dream, and the likes of MeVs go to escape for a few days in the penthouse at Caesars Palace.

With a few hours to spare, we had a chance to traverse The Strip without having to stop every few steps to photograph family members with plastered smiles. Our journey commenced from Caesars Palace, where the bell desk hospitably checked in our bags; then continued through the Bellagio, where high-end shops taunted our modest bank accounts. After escaping the maze, it was on over to Planet Hollywood, where the Miracle Mile Shops were. The stores there were not as intimidating, and by the good graces of God, there was an H&M (who desperately needs to open a location in Dallas.) We passed by Excalibur, into the Luxor, and ended up at Mandalay Bay. The last few hotels quickly became a blur to the now over-exposed visual senses. Solicitors still lined the sidewalks, either offering collectible calling-cards for the “hot babes” of Vegas or “water for one dolla.” The former obscenely littering the streets.

Unfavorable schedule conflicts only permitted the viewing of one show, Cirque du Soleil’s “O.” But what that extravaganza offered was enough to color our brains into sensory satiation. When the Bellagio and Cirque du Soleil decided to produce a show surrounding the theme of water, a lot of effort was put into constructing a stage that could seamlessly adapt to the performance. So in that respect, the theater itself became an important character of the show. During any act, there were a sundry of things to look at: lights, Olympic divers, contortionists from Mongolia, acrobats, a pyromaniac setting himself on fire, wind interacting swimmingly with water, and an adorable clown even clown-haters couldn’t resist.

Other than walking, sweating, and losing $20 at a slot machine, there was also a lot of eating, as per usual on any trip. Notable mentions are the Jean-Philippe Patisserie at the Bellagio, which features “the largest chocolate fountain the world” and cakes so beautiful patrons would apparently buy only to display in the dining room. The Payard Pâtisserie & Bistro in Caesar’s Palace has delectable crepes, among other delightful desserts, and does not charge an extra $2 for whipped cream as Jean-Philippe does. The Grand Wok at MGM incorporates multiple Asian styles into surprisingly tasteful dishes that include: Beef Tenderloin Asparagus in Black Pepper Sauce, Honey Walnut Shrimp, and Maine Lobster in a Thai Sauce. But be careful, the lobster dish can run you $150/plate. Seasonal pricing does not mean the same thing there as it does in Texas.

Everything is such a production everywhere you go, it’d be hard to come back and not expect even your morning coffee to magically dance for you. From the fountains that greet incoming guests, hotel pools decked in music video grandeur, pastries decorated with the most minute details, to a church with grandiose wall sculptures, life there could never be normal. We’re still not sure if this is a good or bad thing. All that can be said is… Carrot Top is performing? I thought his only talent was being in an ancient phone commercial.

MeVs got dolled up Saturday evening and headed to the Dallas Center of Performing Arts downtown. One would assume the typical pageant stereotypes: moms living vicariously through their disturbingly identical looking daughters, absurd amounts of creepy old men evenly peppered among the crowd (sans family/participating contestant) and the slew of lame stall-jokes between acts via emcees. Miss Asian American Texas delivered.

A confusing mesh of 19 contestants, Teens and Misses, competed simultaneously for the respective titles. It was difficult to endure the gruesomely embarrassing trauma sessions from some of the contestants. But wait, we’re not monsters. MeVs doesn’t hate without offering some helpful solutions:

• dancing without shoes = terrible idea.
  dancing without socks = cool.
  

• practice
  

• practice some more
  

• if you’re not enjoying it, fake it – we can see it in your eyes
  

• have fun!
  

Talent varied from an off-beat drum performance to Beat It, a notable monologue, to traditional ethnic dances. There were some attempts at singing, piano, and hip-hop dancing, but certainly less memorable. It was very clear candidates #11 (India) and #15 (China) had spent tremendous time practicing their dances. Also worth mentioning was #19′s ballet interpretation of Pirates of the Caribbean.

The gown competition was more or less typical, but was topped off with a peculiar Elvis-inspired performance by a gentleman close to his 50s (and Asian). Watching this stocky man adoringly serenade a group of barely nubile, mostly underage girls was almost as humorous as the two emcees…almost.

At the end of the weekend, I was left wondering what the strategy among competitors was. Some girls listed all of their academic achievements like a decorated veteran of the pageant circuit, others showcased their love for chocolate and shopping. Talent was scarce among this years flock, but beauty was abundant all-around. Do they still score ‘em like they used to? Beauty > brains? How does ethnicity play a part in all this? Does the decent hip-hop dancer beat the mediocre traditional dancer showcasing her heritage?

Many questions were left unanswered, but we do know this. Emcees should never narrate the following out loud: how long do I stall?, what comes next?, where is contestant #__?

Video clips from the competition can be found here.

More pictures after the jump >>

So a few days ago, Texas representative Betty Brown gave minorities something exciting to buzz about.

Here’s the quote.

“Rather than everyone here having to learn Chinese — I understand it’s a rather difficult language — do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?” Brown said.

Brown later told [Organization of Chinese Americans representative Ramey] Ko: “Can’t you see that this is something that would make it a lot easier for you and the people who are poll workers if you could adopt a name just for identification purposes that’s easier for Americans to deal with?”

I’m too lazy to watch the video, because I can’t hear her at all anyway… but here’s the visual context of the quote, live from Texas.

Are Asian Americans/Democrats/minori

ties/naysayers making a mountain out of a molehill? Yes and no.

Of course, there are vast political motives for Democrats to oust her, and this slip-up is a great opportunity for them to do so. And yes, it does seem like “such a small thing to get upset about.” So then… why am I?

I keep flip-flopping regarding my reactions to what she said. On the one hand, I get what she’s trying to say. From my preliminary skims through news articles, here’s what she’s upset about. Many Asian-Americans (like myself) have a legal name (Ming-Shing) on their official documents, yet go by a common name (Katherine) that’s used exclusively for social contexts. This leads to huge potential identification issues. So in that sense, sure, I agree a little bit. It would be way the hell “easier” if we were all Katherines and Jennifers rather than Ming-Shings and Mei-Lings.

In addition, a lot of people in America don’t have very much familiarity with ethnic last names. Most proably can’t even spell common Anglo first names correctly – how many variations of “Katherine” have you seen? Let alone names like “Nguyen” or “Gutierrez” or “Krasinski.” All of this combined definitely leads to a lot of anxiety and potential confusion come voting time. The average volunteer in a polling precinct very likely did not sit through “Ethnic Names 101.”

All Betty Brown meant to say was this: “Hey, there’s a lot of potential confusion involved here. Here’s a suggestion to improve matters.” And if she’d phrased it better, I would give her a Facebook “Like.”

But my real beef is with who said it, and how she said it. I expect my state representative to represent ME, Ming-Shing (Katherine) Fan, a Texas resident and a U.S. citizen, when she speaks in political circles on behalf of Texas. Her unfortunate choice of words makes me question that advocacy.

Texas has some of the most diverse communities in the United States. Within the South-East Asian race alone, Texas boasts citizens and residents of Vietnamese, Korean, Japanese, Taiwanese, Cambodian, Thai, Chinese, Malaysian, and Singaporean descent. Some are immigrants, who hold residency status. Some are naturalized citizens. And some, like myself, are citizens by birth.

In addition, not everyone who looks “white” is of Mayflower descent: Desi Americans, Latin Americans, European Americans, and African Americans also call Texas home, as well as the Native Americans who really should be the ones calling the shots if we’re basing “the right to belong” on seniority.

I don’t think it’s impossible for an Anglo-American to properly represent the interests of all these minorities, but I at least expect more sensitivity to the issue of ethnicity. In one fell swoop, Betty Brown lost the respect of millions across the state and nation with her offhand remarks. Her wording forms the bulk of my personal disappointment. Yes, I realize it was a casual comment. Yes, I realize there was no harm or offense intended. …But that is why it is all the more inappropriate.

By using such terms as “you and your citizens,” she’s suggesting that Chinese Americans do not belong in her mental category of “American” – which I’m assuming would be Anglo? Since “Caucasian” is not actually synonymous with “more common names.” Furthermore, she consistently uses the terms “we” and “you” – probably not to represent the state lawmakers vs. the common people… but to distinguish between “the people with names easier to deal with,” and “the people whose names are not easier to deal with.” In essence, this is a thinly veiled echo of colonialism with its overt “Us” and “Them” mentality.

In some Texas communities, some long-term resident families span three generations, all of whom speak English brokenly at best. I hear this happens in places like California Chinatowns and Koreatowns as well. And I don’t like it when Michael makes this comment, but I agree with his point: If you want to live in America, learn the language and adapt the culture. It’s not that difficult to reconcile the culture of your ethnicity with the culture of your citizenship – people manage to grow up cross-culturally all the time. And those who refuse to assimilate at least to a certain degree create a huge strain on the cohesiveness of the country at large.

But there’s a vast difference in dealing with pockets of minority communities that all refuse to learn or speak English, and suggesting that ethnic groups Anglicize their names for the sake of public convenience.

Names are a deeply personal source of individual identity – else why would parents spend months agonizing over their unborn children’s name spellings, name cadences, and name pairings? Why would entire tribes celebrate rites of passage with naming ceremonies? Names reflect family, significance, personality, heritage.

I GET that Betty Brown was not trying to say, “Your kind are invading my land, and the least you could do would be to make it easier for me to identify you.” But it sure feels like it.

I also think her comment demeans the hundreds upon thousands of Anglo Americans who valiantly attempt to learn as much about other cultures as possible. She makes it sound as if learning a few unfamiliar syllables is downright impossible for the Americans whose convenience she champions. I find this personally offensive to a lot of my Caucasian friends, who have always wanted to learn as much about my heritage as possible.

I’m not calling her a racist. I just think she’s an ignoramus. And it’s not OK for my state rep to lack exposure – at the very least, in an intellectual sense – to the minorities within her jurisdiction.

Texas is a state that bears deep pride in its culture. We disgust non-Texans with our constant “Texas > you” jokes. Texas is the only state allowed to fly its flag side-by-side with the Stars and Stripes. We chant “Remember the Alamo!” and mean it, whether or not we had ancestors in that battle. We are passionate about our freedom, and aren’t afraid to fight for it.

I appreciate Betty Brown’s effort to improve the voting process in Texas – all sarcasm aside, I’m sure she had some great ideas and suggestions. And I don’t hold her unintentional ignorance against her in a personal manner. But because of what and who she [did not] represent, I feel that she should no longer hold her position in office.

Catch Katherine Fan and her awesomeness over on facebook.

Wrong. Matt M. of North Dallas tells of last night’s tale.

So, last night, I was privy to an interesting sight. To my credit, this time I did not go chasing after the criminal, so family and friends should be pleased.

Since I’m too lazy to type out the saga numerous times, I’m just pasting my IM conversation with my neighbor, Joe. (I am the first person to speak.)

“Dude, did you wake up last night, around 3:45?”

“yes! i couldn’t sleep at all”

“I saw it all!”

“what happened?”

“You know the Kwik Car Lube?”

“yea”

“Ok, so, my bedroom is the one on the west side, and I have a view of the place. About 3:45 or so, I hear a noise like glass smashing. I look out my window, and I see this guy in a white hoodie walking around that parking lot. He then goes through an empty pane of glass on the “garage door” of the Lube shop.”

“whaat?”

“He goes in, and I see a light inside. It wasn’t an overhead light, it was kinda like the light that appears when there’s “live electricity”, if that makes sense.”

“yea”

“(It was a white “flickering”, as opposed to something steady) Well, then there looks to be another light, localized and low to the ground. Possibly from a flashlight.”

“this is very observant”

“The guy then comes back out of the “bay” and starts walking away, with the hood pulled over his head. His hands are in the “pockets”, near the stomach. The lights go out, and he proceeds to head back towards the Lube place. About 30 seconds or so pass… All of a sudden, the headlights of one of the cars in the docking bay comes on.”

“did you call anybody?”

“And the dude drives the car through the closed garage door.”

“o damn”

“Yeah, I called the police once I saw him start to head in.”

“intense. what kind of car”

“Couldn’t really tell. It had a build similar to a Jetta, but I wouldn’t stake my life on that being the make / model. So, I’m talking to 9-1-1, telling them all this. Of course, they end up showing up at the scene around 4:15 or 4:20. My phone rings. An officer wants all the details. I am going through it, and he tells me that they can’t turn the power on inside, so I guess he did something to the fuse box, which would explain the first light I saw.
I give him my details and get back into bed. 20 minutes later, he calls again.”

“jeez”

“Asked if I knew how the guy got into the lube place. I explain that, while I didn’t see how he smashed the glass, I saw him go in through an empty pane, and the noise that presumably resulted from him initially breaking the glass was what caught my attention.”

“i remember hearing hammering. louds bangs”

“Apparently, there were multiple incidents of that kind of behavior last night.”

“wow. all at the lube place?”

“Yeah. Oh, well, not all at the same one. But a bunch of similar types of places up and down Greenville.”

“yea…greenville can get quite shady”

“Apparently so.”

“specifically across 12″

“I just didn’t know if you heard anything. I told you about when I was on a jury last year, right?”

“na. i def. heard stuff”

“The case I was “dealt” was a crime that happened right off of Park, a mile (at most) from where we live. Dude, we live close to one of the heaviest “crime areas” in the mteroplex.”

Greenville Ave. has been mighty shady lately. Looking to take advantage of the great housing market? Do your research.

If you’ve visited New Orleans, you definitely appreciated your visit to the original Cafe Du Monde (where they specialize in coffee and beignets.) I may not be a big coffee drinker, but the fluffy pastries with generous sprinkles of powder sugar could warrant a trip. The last time I was there, I had to find an excuse to return after the breakfast helping. Needless to say, these delectables consumed my heart as I consumed them.

Upon returning to Dallas, I missed them terribly. A specialty shop in Houston offers them, but even I know driving 259 miles to Chez Beignet seemed irrational. But on one beautiful, Sunday morning, something serendipitous happened. I discovered Pala Cafe. In the tradition of New Orleans, intermingled with Vietnamese influence, Pala offers fresh coffee with my much-yearned-for beignets. I ordered two portions and devoured too eagerly.

Oh yeah, the rest of the menu isn’t too bad: pho, Philly cheesesteak sandwich, lemongrass chicken on rice, hoagies. Any of those items will satiate at a decent price. Not to mention the friendliest ownder on the face of Earth. I return regularly and receive the same affection that makes any cold day warm.

UPDATE: Pala Cafe has fallen prey to the vicious and unforgiving economy. It recently closed and I am back on the beignet market. Suggestions?

Being a pretty geeky geek, I thought this was a pretty sweet gift for under $20. Kind of looks like Uncle Dan’s get-up during holiday festivities. Just keep these sweaters honey ham free. The Post Family via Inhabitant

And for the athletic geek, here‘s a track jacket slip cover.