Deep in the Steez of Texas

So last night's visit to Minute Maid Park brought my current-Major- League-stadiums-I've-attended- games-at count to 15. I've also toured Fenway Park, visited the outside of RFK Stadium, and have seen three more venues from the air; the remaining ten I've only seen on TV. As for defunct stadia, I've attended games at four of 'em, and today I sneaked into the decrepit Astrodome.

The once-state-of-the-art, once-futuristic "Eighth Wonder of the World" opened in 1965 and served as the home of the Astros, the Houston Oilers, and most recently, Hurricane Katrina evacuees. Now it's officially called the "Reliant Astrodome," sitting in the shadow of its bigger new neighbor, Reliant Stadium, home of the Houston Texans.

I simply walked through a gate that was left open and climbed a few flights of stairs. It was as hot and muggy inside as it was out. Random debris was scattered around the dark concourses, which otherwise didn't have any fixtures or advertising or any other sign of recent activity. Then I walked out into the stands under the dome and snapped a bunch of pictures, including this one from the east end zone/dead center field. The building's only illumination was daylight coming through the Lucite ceiling panels. Later, after circumnavigating the building's exterior, I noticed a couple other unlocked gates, so I wasn't sure if I had truly trespassed, or if the the owners of the dormant stadium just don't care. Either way, it was a creepy thrill, being the only person in the cavernous, silent ghost stadium.

After lunch at James Coney Island (a favorite long-running local hot dog chain, where I ate my first-ever Frito pie), I visited The Orange Show. In the '60s and '70s, this obsessed old guy crafted what he imagined would be a major tourist destination on a residential lot in his lower-class neighborhood. What remains today is a kooky folk-art masterpiece, best described here and here. Below is a sample of what I found.

Incidentally, the place doubles as a small outdoor performance venue; Neil Hamburger was there tonight, but travel complications prevented me from going. Instead, I ate a Supersonic Cheeseburger.

I Tell You What

Saturday's first order of business was elevating to the observation deck atop the Tower of the Americas -- have I mentioned that I love observation decks? Though it was a cloudy, hazy morning, the view couldn't have been more perfect ('cause, um, San Antonio's not much to look at). The tower's top, shaped like a giant, upright KFC bucket sign, has a far more informative and attractive presentation than Dallas's stupid Reunion Tower, which I visited Wednesday. However, TOTA has this shitty "adult contemporary" blaring throughout -- imagine coping with Laura Brannigan's "Self Control" while meditating on Saint Anthony, 750 feet below.
I've always thought downtown's River Walk sounded dumb, and though it was indeed plenty touristy, it was actually pretty cool -- I dug how the filthy little canals wound through the urban core. On the other hand, there wasn't much to the nearby Alamo; its greatest asset is it's free. I breezed through in a few minutes and didn't take any pix (instead, here are the Stones on their '75 tour). The mission's next-best thing were the few protesters gathered outside -- a pretty cajones-y act in this conservative, religious, militarily heavy city... Overall, I found SA bland and depressing, and was plenty happy to move it on over to Houston.After a three-hour drive, during which I saw a road-killed armadillo, I witnessed the Astros clobber the Brewers 10-1 at the awesome Minute Maid Park. The contest brought my MLB-stadiums-I've-attended-a-game-at count to 19. However, I was seriously harangued by a gang of drunken 'Stros fans, as I was keeping score while wearing my Nationals tee and M's cap -- mismatched, I admit, but still!

I liked most everything about the venue -- way better than the Rangers ballpark -- but I was particularly enamored by the grassy knoll in center field, where the American flagpole is firmly planted in fair territory. Ichiro'll hafta deal with that when the M's visit in June.

So, like, I'm tempted to parody an overused cliché here, saying something like "Houston, I have a boner."

But I won't.

Estampilla de la Semana: HemisFair '68

I'll get to this week's stamp in a sec.

This morning I visited South Congress Avenue and Mount Bonnell before rolling beyond the Austin city limits on down to San Antone. My first stop was lunch at Earl Abel's, a decent strip-mall coffee shop where I sat next to a table of nuns (sadly though, its original home was razed just last year). My waiter asked me if I was heading downtown to party and warned me about the crowds and police, but assuring me "the cops are on your side, know what I mean?" I was confused, until he explained that the massive annual Fiesta is happening this weekend; I inferred the-cops-on-my-side comment meant they're racist. So I decided to steer clear of downtown, and thus my afternoon sightseeing plans were thwarted (though I did get to see the world's largest shitkickers).

Tonight I went to the local minor league ballgame, where the visiting Midlands RockHounds beat the San Antonio Missions 1-0 before a crowd of 4,792. Kazuhito Tadano ruled on the mound, but the night's real stars were the mascots. Representing the Missions: Ballapeño and Henry the Puffy Taco ('Peño strikes a pose here while hoisting the Whataburger flag; no comment on the "puffy taco"). If that wasn't enough, between innings the crowd was entertained by the traveling ZOOperstars, who were either totally brilliant or completely fucked. Ken Girrafey Jr. and Harry Canary danced in unison to Pink's "Get the Party Started," and Monkey Mantle and Nolan Rhino led the crowd on "Y.M.C.A." Cow Ripken Jr. and Mackerel Jordan also appeared. I was disappointed not to see Ichiroach and Clammy Sosa.

So, the estampilla de la semana: San Antonio hosted HemisFair '68, a world's fair commemorated by this week's stamp. Hopefully I'll have more to tie in with this tomorrow... Vaya con dios.

Steve, Austin

My day began with coffee and a burrito at the supremely, um, for lack of a less-trite word, funky cafe, Spider House. (Confidential to KR: thanks for the tip!)

Then I strolled through the neighborhood adjacent to the University of Texas campus, where I took this here pic of a Daniel Johnston wall painting. On the campus itself, I was hoping to visit the observation deck atop the University of Texas Tower (from where sniper Charles Whitman shot a bunch of people in '66), but it was closed today. Instead I ate a deliciously simple grilled-cheese sandwich at Dirty Martin's.

Two of my favorite movies were shot here by local guy Richard Linklater (before he started to suck). The town's vibe still rings true with Slacker, filmed nearly 20 years ago, with all its freaky folks. Traces of Dazed and Confused, set over 30 years ago, are less apparent. Top Notch, where Wooderson hilariously hit on Beck's wife, is still here, but Westenfield Park, home of the beer bust, has no moon tower (tho' I've seen others around town).

Dart Bowl has lotsa cool bowling memorabilia... I bought the new Detroit Cobras CD at Cheapo Texas... Craving some relatively healthy food, I was delighted to stumble across the monster Whole Foods flagship store.

Tonight I was torn between bats at the Dell Diamond and bats at the Congress Avenue Bridge. Last night I checked out the Round Rock Express's suburban ballpark, which is pretty fantastic for a AAA venue, but tonight's game's opportunity costs were too high. Fortunately, the live bats didn't disappoint. Standing under the bridge 'til sundown was like watching a pot come to a boil, but eventually thousands of 'em came pouring out for a good 20 minutes... Incidentally, without any thought, this morning I donned my Batman T-shirt, which must've made tonight's few hundred other bat-fans assume I was some bat-obsessed lunatic. However, after dinner at Hut's, some guy on Sixth Street yelled at me that I looked like a child molester.

Keep Austin weird.

Steve Does Dallas

Today started off at Goff's with a kickass Goffburger -- the best dang thang I've eaten yet in Texass. Then I drove over to Fair Park, where I viewed the Cotton Bowl and North America's biggest ferris wheel, the Texas Star (above). I desperately wanted to say "howdy" to Big Tex, but apparently he only shows up during the massive State Fair. Then I headed over to Dealey Plaza for a stroll across the grassy knoll (still quite grassy!), where some conspiracy nuts were selling their books and DVDs off a card table. Then it was over to Reunion Tower, perhaps the lamest of all observation decks I've, like, decked. Despite unnecessarily tight security, bad '80s decor, and an overall lousy presentation, the view was the tits. On my way outta town I drove through the infamous triple underpass.

After doing the Big D, I took the scenic route to Austin, via Fort Worth (and a killer BBQ beef sandwich at Angelo's), Dinosaur Valley State Park (seen above, down the road apiece from the Creation Evidence Museum -- Baby Jesus made dinosaurs!), Killeen (site of the Luby's Massacre, whose unprecedented bloodshed was surpassed just last week), Crawford (home of Ted Nugent, and occasionally George W. B-hole), and Waco (home the late David Koresh). Tonight and tomorrow night I'm here in Austin, where I'm anticipating what this much-hyped town has to offer.

Don't fuck with Texas.

Dang Ol' Rain

Thanks to my Grand Salami connection, I scored a press pass to today's Mariners-Rangers game. I got there a couple hours early and ate a buffet-style breakfast in the press box, sitting a few tables away from Dave Niehaus and Rick Rizzs. (Niehaus bussed his own table, which seemed pretty cool to me.) Afterwards I went down to the photo pit by the M's dugout to inspect the field, and then briefly wandered among players and coaches in the Mariner clubhouse. I spent the final hour before game time in the press box with a bunch of other reporters -- many Japanese -- all of us typing away on our laptops. But it had been a drizzly morning, and there wasn't much pre-game action on the tarp-covered field. By the time of its scheduled 1:05 start, the game was officially rained out. Balls.

The weather didn't really seem all that bad, but it soon turned nasty -- high winds, "severe thunderstorms," tornado and flash flood warnings, reports of giant hail, etc. People were killed. No wonder the crap country station here is called the Texas Twister. Anyway, I holed up in my room and watched cable and took a nice long nap.

After things calmed down I drove out for dinner at Luby's. I desperately wanted the Lu Ann Platter, but apparently it's not on the menu anymore. The place is essentially a chain cafeteria, with all the charm of a nursing home dining room. I choked down a painfully bland chicken-fried steak and high-tailed it outta there.

Across the street I browsed at Half-Price Books, where I scored a used copy of Ichiro Magic!. Turns out that the new 'n' used bookstore chain is based here in Dallas (as is the ubiquitous 7-Eleven, where I bought some bananas the other day).

My motel is right by the BPAA HQ, hence my picture here of their cool sign. I wish I could take credit for above photo of what it looked like today through a rained-on press box window, but I can't.

A final note: I've written about the inspiration for The Dude, but this Fort Worth Weekly article explains the inspiration for Walter.

I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide

Actually, I'm just in Texas.

I redeemed some frequent-flyer miles for a week of Lone Star sightseeing and ballgames, okay?

After my plane touched down Sunday night at the gi-freakin'-normous DFW -- bringing my states-I’ve-visited total to 33 -- I dined at Taco Bueno. (Bobby Hill loves TB, but I didn't realize it was an actual place!)

Then today I crammed my face at other chains of various sizes, ones not indigenous to the Northwest: Waffle House for breakfast, a cherry limeade at Braum's, a killer BBQ beef sammich at Sonny Bryan's, and a Whataburger at Whataburger (sorta like eating a Burgermaster at Burgermaster). I also took a whiz at Texas Stadium, did some research at the Dallas Public Library, and visited TBN in Irving (I've previously been to Paul and Jan Crouch's similarly gaudy facilities in Orange County and outside Nashville).

My motel is a 20-minute walk alongside Six Flags Over Texas to the Rangers Ballpark in Arlington, where tonight I witnessed the M's snap a six-game skidmark by beating the Texas nine, 5-4. Ichiro was awesome, going three-for-five (including a three-run, stand-up triple), falling a homer short of the cycle.

Yep.

Devil, Devil, You Bastard You!

Like I was saying, Evel has found Baby Jesus yet again. The video of his recent Crystal Cathedral appearance is now posted on Robert Schuller's site, as well as an abridged transcript of the proceedings.

As per form, Evel plays to the crowd with his usual boasting and joking, yet he comes across as more humble and sincere than I've ever seen him. (He's noticeably short of breath too, like that wheezing black kid on Malcolm in the Middle.) Here's how he explained his miraculous transformation to the Crystal congregation:

"All of a sudden I just believed in Jesus Christ. I did, I believed in Him! I just don't know what happened to me. I just, I rose up in bed in Daytona the second night I was there. I rose up in bed and I was by myself. And I said, 'Devil, devil, you bastard you! Get away from me! I cast you out of my life!' I went to the balcony of my hotel room, and I said, 'I will take you and throw you, throw you on the beach. You will be dead, you will be gone. I don't want you around me anymore!'"

Holy crap. Barring any backslides, Evel'll hopefully makes lots of upcoming appearances on The 700 Club and other amusing TBN fare... Here's another account, from ChristianityToday.com.

Happy 60th, Iggy!

Yep, the Stooge hits the big six-oh today. Not only is it hard to believe that he's lived this long, but also that he's still rocking like a wildman after all these decades.

Iggy was born just nine days after David Letterman, who likewise turned 60 the week before last. Iggy performed on Dave's NBC show at least two times I know of in the early '90s, and once on his CBS show in 2003. It's always funny when they shake hands, with Iggy standing about a foot shorter than Dave.

I don't know if Iggy ever met Evel, but Kurt Cobain astutely drew a parallel between these two idols of his. In the 1993 book, Come As You Are: The Story of Nirvana, Michael Azerrad writes that "two of Kurt's favorite stuntmen" were Evel and Iggy. The impressionable Cobain said he rode his bicycle off the roof because of Evel, and he tried heroin because of Iggy. Azerrad quotes Cobain saying that, as a grade-schooler, "Evel Knievel was my only idol." Later, Cobain says, "Iggy Pop, he was my total idol."

I've always thought of Iggy as the Evel Knievel of rock 'n' roll; neither of these pioneering, reckless performers seemed like they'd live to see the '80s. It's amazing that both guys are still alive. So's Letterman. Not so with Cobain.

Two Cents on Two Bits

The Washington quarter went into circulation last week, but not 'til today did any of 'em circulate around to me. Sure, every quarter is technically a "Washington quarter," what with George's profile on the obverse side, but the reverse side of our newest quarter honors our fair state.

Since 1999, the US Mint has issued five quarters per year for each of the 50 states, releasing them in order of statehood (Delaware was first; Washington is 42nd; Hawaii will be last, with its quarter scheduled for next year). The Washington design was chosen by Governor Gregoire, after Washingtonians picked it as our favorite in an opinion poll conducted last year. The two losing designs may be seen here and here; some ridiculous kids' ideas are here.

The winning design is fairly predictable, what with the salmon and trees and Mt. Rainier, though pretty much all the other states' designs are too. Most feature some combination of the state outline, the state motto or slogan, and a depiction of flora or fauna or a bit of landscape or major industry. New Hampshire's has its famous Old Man of the Mountain, even though his face has since slid off. Alabama's has Helen Keller (please, no jokes), and Indiana's has an Indy car. I like the Wisconsin quarter best: a hunk of cheese, an ear of corn, a dairy cow, and a banner with a single word: “Forward.”

These are my fingers adding the new quarter to my Whitman Coin Folder this afternoon. (Due to geographical complications, I only bother collecting coins from the Denver Mint; those from the Philadelphia Mint are rare in this part of the country.) My collection gets progressively cooler with each new quarter I add, but I wouldn't be surprised if one day spend 'em all on laundry or pinball.

See all the quarters here.

Postage Stamp of the Week: Space Needle

Behold my favorite postage stamp ever, which commemorates Seattle's Century 21 Exposition...


Of course, I love that it features the Space Needle, but it's also cool that it's got a little monorail...


The fair opened 45 years ago tomorrow, April 21, 1962...


Man, that Space Needle sure is tall!

¡Tiburón!

Eliza and I made this crazy shark piñata for our pal Sean's birthday fiesta last night. (Why? It was a Mexican-themed party, and Sean's obsessed with sharks.) This is how he looked under construction, and here's another look at the finished product... ¡Aieeee!

Another shark-related thing from last night -- I saw on TV we have a new pro sports franchise in town, the Seattle Tiger Sharks. A shark wearing boxing gloves... Now I've seen everything!

Go Seattle Tiger Sharks!

Postage Stamp of the Week: Boston Tea Party

Okay, these are actually the Postage Stamps of the Week -- four of 'em -- that make up this painting of the Boston Tea Party. The set was issued in 1973, commemorating the bicentennial of the protest against British taxation without colonial representation... Since tax returns are due next week, I originally hoped to post a stamp commemorating the IRS. Unsurprisingly, none exists.

Happy 60th, Dave!

I didn't get around to commemorating Dave's 25th anniversary on late-night TV back in February, so I offer this small tribute to my all-time favorite TV personality, who celebrates his 60th birthday today. My all-time favorite TV show? Late Night with David Letterman, Dave's killer NBC show that ran 1982-1993. I think we all know how painful that can be.

Remembering KJET

This week over at Lamestain, Los Bros Ojendyk have been documenting the people, the places, and the people that figured prominently in Seattle's circa-'87 music scene, when grunge was still in utero. Included in today's post is my own contribution, a short bit about my favorite radio station during my '80s teens... In case you missed it, in January Lamestain also ran my post about Girl Trouble... Thanks again, dudes!

Holy Crap! Evel Finds Baby Jesus! Again!!

The Sunday before last -- on April Fool's Day -- Evel appeared at Robert Schuller's massive Crystal Cathedral in Orange County. No, he didn't jump his motorbike over the monstrous building. Rather, Schuller took a break from assaulting flight attendants to personally baptize Evel.

Naturally, being Evel Knievel, a humble ceremony in a modest community church near his Florida home simply wouldn't do. Instead, he had to fly across the country to get baptized before a congregation of 4,000. He also reportedly delivered a 20-minute speech, inspiring between 400 and 600 attendees to get similarly baptized right on the spot. For us Evel fans who couldn't be present, the event will appear on an upcoming episode of Schuller's globally televised Hour of Power broadcast. This I gotta see...

By most accounts, Evel had a non-religious upbringing, but that didn't stop him from addressing the topic over the years. At a 1974 press conference, he quipped: "I'd like to go to the Evel Knievel Heaven, where there's a motorcycle jump that I could make every day and never miss, a river of beer, a golf course I can par every day, where there are a lot of easy, good-looking broads, no state tax, no federal tax, and no politicians!"

He took religion a bit more seriously as his '74 Snake River Canyon jump drew near. In his final pre-jump interview, just moments before blastoff, he told David Frost: "I've never been afraid in my life of dying under any circumstances. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus Christ, I'm a Christian."

But, after surviving the crash, he continued his philandering, hard-drinking ways, and he did time in prison for beating up Sheldon Saltman with a baseball bat. Evel soon separated from his long-suffering wife Linda, who became a born-again Christian. Then, in the mid-'80s, Evel followed suit: he found God a second time, leading to a reconciliation with Linda and his newfound sobriety. In his 1986 documentary, The Last of the Gladiators, Evel explained that in his hour of need, he asked God to send him an angel as living proof of the Almighty's existence: “Let this angel talk to me and tell me that you're real, that I better abide by the Ten Commandments, and that I better believe in God and do what's right."

Sure enough, God sent Evel an "angel" in the form of his baby daughter; three months after the film's release, Evel was arrested in Kansas City for soliciting a prostitute. He backslid once again, leaving Linda for a woman 31 years his junior and eventually getting a liver transplant from his copious boozing. He went so far as to attack Linda's "fucking Christian belief," stating, "I don't believe all that crap in the bible." Around the same time, he told the defunct web site Big Bikes, "I don't believe in that 'God through Jesus Christ' anymore. I think it's a bunch of bullshit." As for televangelists like Schuller and his ilk, Evel told the defunct magazine Popsmear, "Why should you give Jimmy Swaggart money? He'll just go spend it on a whore. Why should you give Jim Bakker money? He’s just gonna go spend it on some homo someplace."

So what accounts for Evel's latest awakening? Does it have anything to do with his rapidly declining health? Not necessarily, as he's lived most of his life cheating death, whether through cycle crashes or alcoholism. Is it the influence of Linda, who's remained a devout Christian all along? Or the influence of hard-partying son Robbie, another born-again who gives Jesus public shout-outs at his performances? My guess is that it's simply Evel's hazy, doped-up mental state. In a recent USA Today story, Evel said that a "morphine pump" stapled to his abdomen "sends morphine and synthetic heroin into my back 24 hours a day... It affects your thinking, your brain."

Whatever the reason, Evel simply called Schuller out of the blue, telling him, "Dr. Schuller, I've accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior." In this interview, he tries to sort it out: "I don't know what happened to me. I didn't see it on a TV show, or see it in the newspaper or hear it on the radio or read it in the bible..." (Though Evel admits he saw Andy Griffith on Schuller's show weeks earlier...) "Something happened to me just so seriously that I just all of a sudden woke up... I know that when I leave this earth, God's going to take care of me, and I'm going to be all right. God has got me in the palm of his hand. When I die, I'm going to heaven."

Now, after finding Jesus a third time, will it stick? And if it does, will he finally apologize to Sheldon Saltman and ask for his forgiveness? Will he stop living in sin with his second ex-wife? Will he stop lying about all his accomplishments? Will he stop taking the Lord's name in vain in every other sentence? Does his baptism automatically negate a lifetime of behaving like a total asshole?

Of course, this is all between Evel and God -- assuming God exists -- but it's fun to speculate. I can't wait to watch Evel's televised baptism, which will air the weekend after next. Check your local listings.

Postage Stamp of the Week: Sasquatch

In 1990, Canada issued this stamp of Le Sasquatch (rough English translation: "The Sasquatch"). The artwork blows, but you gotta give credit to them donut-eating hosers for putting Bigfoot on a stamp, something we wack-ass Americans have yet to do...

At a recent Sonics game, my upstairs neighbor/PUSA frontman Chris Ballew celebrated mascot Squatch's birthday with his original song, "The Theme from S.Q.U.A.T.C.H." The video below was filmed at KING-5 studios. Note that the "U" in the Squatch Squad is Sonic legend Slick Watts; of course, Squatch plays drums.

It's Opening Day!

Opening Day, 1951, Washington's Griffith Stadium: In the front row, L-R: Eliza's great-grandfather, First Lady Bess Truman, southpaw President Harry Truman (demonstrating the eephus pitch), Senators manager Bucky Harris, Senators owner Clark Griffith, and Yankees manager Casey Stengel. Read more here.

So Eliza and I are all set for this afternoon's Mariner home opener -- I bought a new cap (immediately performing a much-needed surgery on it), and Eliza shined up her Mariner earrings. Look for us in the 300 level.

Hey, do any Mariner fans have a "wicked pissah" webcast like Fitzy here?

Crossword Report: March '07

Bunny bunny!

This month I started doing the crosswords in the New York Sun, which rival the New York Times puzzles in terms of difficulty, cleverness, and overall quality. Best of all, they're free to download and print, provided it's done on the actual day each puzzle appears (the paper only publishes on weekdays, and there doesn't seem to be a crossword archive). Likewise, I've become a regular solver of the USA Today puzzle. Their online puzzles are also free, and they have a free two-week archive, and I like how each puzzle can be printed directly from the screen -- no downloading or special software necessary. Among crosswords I solved from various other sources last month were nine puzzles in my Wordplay tie-in book.

Crosswords in Pop Culture:

The Bob Newhart Show (November 3, 1973).
After discovering wife Emily scored higher on an IQ test than he did, a frustrated Bob begins to notice her various “smart” traits, such as doing crosswords in pen rather than pencil... In real life, Time magazine reported that “Ginnie [Newhart's longtime wife] and Bob share a passion for crossword puzzles and spectator sports, and they have a deep mutual empathy.”

Late Night with David Letterman (February 1, 1986).
During a show filmed aboard an airborne 747, Dave offered his solution to the problem of finding the airline magazine's crossword already solved: “How many times have you picked up a copy of the in-flight magazine only to find that someone else has already done the crossword puzzle? What are you gonna do? You can throw up your hands and give up, or do what I do -- bring along a sheet of 'Blank Stick-on Squares.' After a few painstaking hours, the crossword will look like new." Letterman then asks his pal, the recently deceased Larry “Bud” Melman, who has just filled a crossword with the blank squares, how it worked for him: "I like it even better than doing the puzzle!"

King of the Hill (April 16, 2000).
In "Meet the Propaniacs," we see Bobby and Connie sitting on the sofa, Bobby polishing Connie’s toenails as she reads the New York Times Magazine. She asks, "Hey, do you wanna do the New York Times crossword puzzle? It’s what New York couples do every Sunday." Bobby replies, "Like Tony Randall and his wife!"

Well, it's the first of the month, time to clean Captain Bananas' tank.

Bonus Captain Bananas Fun Fact™:

· His favorite TV show is Sabado Gigante.

See you in the funny pages.

Crossword Report: February '07
Crossword Report: January '07
Total crosswords solved in March 2007: 90
Total crosswords solved in 2007: 237
On pace to solve in 2007: 961