Spending Priorities

Since I'm on the subject of money, let's return to the $7 billion a month we're spending in Iraq.

It's not just the levees in New Orleans. For decades, our cities and towns have fought tooth and nail to recieve scraps of vital funding for education, crime fighting, drug rehab, urban revitalization, transit improvements, economic revitalization, environmental clean-up, and a whole host of other programs.

The federales say again and again that there just isn't enough money to go around, so all we suffer due to lack of funds. But somehow we can spend $7 billion each month in Iraq for a war that was never necessary.

If we spent $7 billion a month on education in this country, we could rebuild every crumbling school, train and recruit the best teachers and give a private tutor to every struggling kid in America.

If we spent $7 billion on job training, family planning, drug rehab and crime prevention, the streets of every American city would be safe 24/7.

If we spent $7 billion a month on building a clean-energy infrastructure, we could cut our dependence on foreign oil and clean the environment.

If we're going to spend that kind of money anyway, why not spend it right here? How can we presume to tell the rest of the world how to live when we can't take care of ourselves?

When the levee breaks ... again

What can it mean when our president is more than willing to spend $7 billion a month to occupy and, ostensibly, rebuild Iraq, but can't see his way to spending a total of $9 billion over the course of years to rebuild and strengthen the levees that protect a major American city?

Don't say the money isn't there. that isn't the point. We don't have $7 billion a month to spend in Iraq, but we're spending it anyway. I'd say efforts to protect our own citizens are at least as important -- especially when Iraq was a war of choice for our president, and the flooding of New Orleans was an emergency situation caused mainly by poorly built levees in the first place.

America needs to rebuild its own house.

Luck, redefined

From the ACT:

[[ASHEVILLE – Jackie Novak could hardly wait for the official kickoff of North Carolina’s lottery this morning, stopping at the Hot Spot on Brevard Road on her way to work to shell out $20 for a dozen tickets.

She quickly scratched the first ticket to reveal a win: $3.

“How’s that for luck?” Novak said. “This is the only way I’m ever going to be a millionaire. I can work all my life and it isn’t going to happen.”]]


Sigh ...

BREAKING: Lotto Fever grips North Carolina

TeckiMom bought $5 worth of tickets.

Won $3, and a new ticket.

I hope they teach math good in them new schools they gonna build.

You know, just because South Carolina does something, it doesn't mean NC has to.

In fact, it's usually good public policy to do the exact opposite of SC.

For future reference.

No Sleep Til' San Diego

I just got a used copy of Licensed to Ill. I am fully aware that this is hardly one of their best albums, all the way back in their goofy-ass, drunken frat boy days.

Let me explain.

Way back when I was but a young and confused teenage Tecki, someone stole my friend's car. This bright young runaway hotwired the car, drove back to his house to pick up some stuff, and headed out for California. Although he had the money, he declined to pay for his gas after stopping at a station -- and some cops were nearby.

A chase ensued.

A tree got in the way.

When we went to the impound lot the next day to see the damage, we found clothes, half-opened boxes of lunchables and a bunch of tapes sprawled all over the interior. We left the lunchables, but felt justified in taking the kid's other stuff. Not a fair trade, but that's life.

Those days are gone, but the tape remains. Only, I don't listen to tapes anymore.

On UNCC, George Mason and things to prove

I have to give it up for the boys in green and gold.

Not, unfortunately, my own Charlotte 49ers, who did not make through the first round, let alone to the Final Four. But having read the news circulating around the improbable rise of the George Mason team, I definitely know who to root for now.

See, we have a lot more than colors in common. GMU and UNCC were both founded around the same time in the shadows of larger, older and better-known schools. Both suffer from the "commuter-school" stigma, as if they were nothing more than really, really big community colleges. And grads from both schools have felt the sting of lowered expectations when looking for a job.

I would have preferred if our team was on the cover of Sports Illustrated, if reporters from around the country had suddenly discovered the leafy campus on the edge of Highway 49, but hey.

If it couldn't be us, I'm glad it's GMU.

But guys, really. yellow shirts with green letters? What are you, Tweety Bird? Switch it. Trust me.

Jenny Lewis

We saw the Jenny Lewis show at the Recher last night. As expected, she, the Watson Twins and all the rest of the band put on an excellent show, building to an amazing crescendo with an unreleased song about Jack Killing Ma and ending with a Jesus song involving a duet between her and Jonathan Rice with overtones of early June and Johnny shows.

She has this creepy-June-Carter mystique, all bourbon and Spanish moss, with a powerful voice and a wide range. A big ol' electrified hootenany punctuated with slow, often freaky ballads.

Lots of College kids there.

Uh, yeah. I have to go to work in the morning. Do you mind starting a little early? Thanks.

So maybe Jonathan Rice shouldn't be covering George Thorogood, what with his hipster T-shirt and tight pants, but he can play the geetar something powerful. The spaced-out hipster persona contrasted nicely with his smart, clever music. He was a great breath of fresh air after the torture of the opening act.

Whispertown 2000 almost made me hate music.

Hate. Them.

If Jenny Lewis and her band were the epitome of well-practiced, polished professionalism, Whispertown demonstrated how godawful it is when a band just refuses to practice.

If they hadn't know each other's names, I could have sworn they'd never met before the moment they stepped on stage.
The only one who looked and sounded like he had any talent was the bass player, who may well have wandered accidentally on stage from a British pop band. The other three looked, and acted, like college kids pretending to be in a band. The lead guitar wandered around aimlessly, both musically and literally, and the two female singers made absolutely no attempt to coordinate anything. Off key from the get-go, their voices evoked actual physical pain. It was like watching the losing band in a middle-school talent show.

They butchered Gillian Welch's "Miss Ohio." I believe Ms. Welch is now legally obligated to shoot them. I'll have to check on that.

On a final note, we both thought it was rude of Jenny to not thank each member of the band at the end. She singled out just two people. What about the bass player and the drummer who sweated it out through the whole show? After all, they even wore the ironic old-school cowboy shirts and everything.

Metro History 101

Some. Guy Just. Wrote a book. about. the. Metro's. History.

I think I need to lay down.

Can this really be happening? Hooray for transit geeks!

My excitement over the release of this book, as opposed to my complete lack of interest in anything even remotely related to English literature or advertising is only further proof that I have made some unfortunate misteps in my educational career.

Gonna have to find a copy, grab one of those beers from the NOVA Trader Joe's, and turn off the ringer on my cellphone.

Messing with Texas: The aftermath

Finished up the ATX trip listening to Rosanne Cash, Josh Ritter and The Little Willies free at Auditorium Shores, just across from the best photo-op for the Austin City Skyline. The weather held up all night, but started pouring the day K's Dad and I decided to go T-shirt hunting.

Mission Accomplished.

Notes on the Great State of Texas:

Sure texas law requires you to make a pilgrimage to the Alamo whenever you visit the state, but that doesn't mean you have to see the Riverwalk too. The parts near the big mall were overcrowded and touristy, the rest was pretty empty. Kind of a nice little greenway walk, but not worth the drive from Austin.

If you find yourself in San Antonio: Get a guidebook and a good map. There must be something to do there, but without these resources, you'll never figure it out.

Austin is Asheville with more money and tacos. Whereas A'ville has the hospital and Biltmore Estate, plus any number of bars and coffeehouses, Austin has Dell, Texas Instruments, the State Government and lots of little tech companies to employ you. Other than that and the plethora of excellent Mexican food, they're esentially the same city.

Texans wave to strangers more than Marylanders do -- that is to mean they wave to strangers. More people waved or otherwise greeted us as we walked or drove around town in one week than have ever done so in almost 2 years in B'more.

W is not as popular as you might think. Sure, we spent most of our time in Travis County, but the excess of anti-Bush stickers and T-shirts was heartening.

Seeing the countryside outside the cities, you can understand why they fought so hard to take it from the Mexicans.

Wristbands? We don't need no stinking wristbands ...

Breakfast again at Austin Java, excellent food and coffee. Needed the caffeine after the dog next door kept us up all night. K and I finally had enough and tried to go there to knock onthe door and do our good cop/bad cop routine, but as we navigated the long staricase down the neighbors' hill we heard a lot of shouting and things being thrown -- K's dad had also reached his limit.

All that and it turns out these folks are out of town. Supposedly the problem is all being taken care of ... we'll see at bedtime.

But who cares when you're standing five feet from James McMurty while he belts out "choctaw bingo" and "we can't make it here" at a free showcase? As Greg might say: Man ...

Got some great photos of the man. Hopefully they'll look as good blown up as they do on the LCD. That was at Mother Egan's on E. Sixth St, btw.

We hit SoCo again and did the hell out of it. We went into every last one of those antique shops chock full o' stuff other people threw out but now I'm supposed to pay $25 for, and all the hipster stores full of ironic shirts, snarky magnets and funky toys I like to play with but never want to buy. Lots of Mexican curios and cowboy hats too.

Missed Life of Pi by about 5 minutes at the free showcase at Yard Dog art, one of those places for outsider art shows (Stuff made by batshit crazy people, ala Junebug or the AVAM in B'more) Most of the art was typical "What the fu--," but I have to admit there was one musician whose retouched old school country music posters blew my mind, and my bank. Not taking any of that home, sadly.

The band after Life of Pi sucked. Lots of noise, amps all the wy up and fuzzed out. If you can't play, just play loud. But, after we wandered the strip for a while and bought a metal lizard for the wall, we came back just in time for Sawgrass something, and they hit some good notes, ending with a rocking version of the old El Paso.

Ate at Curra's again, the tres leches cake was magnifico. So was the flan.

Saw our ducks again at the house. Tried to start a fire (not with the ducks), but it didn't take.

Tecki on the Spot in the ATX

Just got done washing our clothes in the bathroom sink. The cold water in the washer here doesn't work, and most of our clothes can't be washed in the hot water. K washed in the sink and I rinsed in the tub, jeans rolled up all Huck Finn like. At least the dryer worked.

Sadly, the guayabera was not to be. The prices in the thrift store were hardly thrift store prices, and the only shirt they had that looked good for a decent price had a black spot on the back. Maybe I would have bought it, but this was a church thrift shop, and they probably oppose choice or hate gays, so I decided it wasn't worth it.

Been jamming to some alt-country on the radio courtesy of 107.1, WGSR. Probably the coolest commercial station I've heard since WRNR in Annapolis. Better than TMD? Yeah kids, sorry. But I still believe in you. Really. Maybe one day I'll even make a donation.

We tried to hit some live music last night, but after parking a few blocks away and almost getting hit running across the highway, the place was packed, I mean solid, and we left the line of orange-clad fans standing outside and returned to our nice little lake house.

Ate at Chuy's Tex Mex. Plenty of Elvis pictures, but none of Jenna Bush from the night she was arrested for trying to use a fake ID or whatever happened that fateful night. Not exactly the place you'd expect a presidential daughter to hang out, but then, he's not much of a president.

The Drag near UT along Guadalupe made me wish once again that UNCC wasn't built all the way out in the sticks. I've pretty much aged out of a lot of what they have there, but much better than the few strip malls and chains we had back at Charlotte.

On a side note, I know Chapel Hill is the big school in the NC, but it would be nice to see even half as many people wearing green in Charlotte as I see wearing orange here. Now, UT is much, much bigger and older than UNCC, but c'mon folks. We aren't so bad? Let's show some spirit! I have some T-shirts you can buy ...

Anywho, waiting for the Tecki-in-laws to arrive. Have to pick them up at the airport. Flying Delta, so it's anyone's guess if their flight will be on time.

Texas is the home of the playas and pimps

Howdy from Austin, Tejas!

The snacks on Southwest beat any I've had so far on any airline. What the airline industry needs to get out of bankruptcy: More Fig Newtons.

Strictly speaking, downtown is a mixed bag. Big, inhuman skyscrapers with blank streetfronts, but also some nice little stores. Las Manitas had great Mexican breakfast food and the atmosphere is about as unique as any place I've been.

Lots of hipsters milling about in anticipation of SXSW with little badges. Think they're so great ... More ironic T-shirts per square mile than any city in North America. Like all the perpetual grad students in the Western Hemisphere all converged on one location.

Sixth street was a long string of bars and souvenir stores. Not our thing, even when we were the target market.

But SoCo has it all, and the Barton Springs strip. Man, some awsome coffee places, thrift stores and music joints. Need to check out Guero's Taco Bar ... lots of music, food, all outdoors. There's a guayabera(sp?) shirt in the window of the church thrift store, but they're closed on sunday and were already shut when we got there Saturday. That shirt will be mine!

Curra's food is great and fast. A little aprehensive about the avocado margarita when it turned out to be frozen, but no worries. Goes down nice and smooth, "like alcoholic guacamole," says K.

And we visited the new 80,000 square foot Whole Foods. Like a liberal Wal-Mart. More organic, fair trade coffee, cheese, beer, shirts, housewares, books and produce you can shake a copy of The Believer at.

Well, gotta say hasta luego. Hot tub and good grub waiting!

Hot for Teacher

Remember how weird it was to see your teachers outside of school? Hard to imagine they even have lives outside the classroom, isn't it? I can tell you, as the proud husband of an excellent teacher, that they do. In fact, they spend most of their time outside the classroom getting ready for the next time they're in the classroom.

Teachers don't stop working when the school bell rings. They go to work early, grading and planning, and they coach, advise clubs, meet/correspond with parents and they stand on committees and attend faculty meetings.

And they take work home with them. Oh yes, they take lots of work home with them. More grading, more planning, more test-writing, more quiz-writing, more contacting parents and colleagues.

Teachers work anywhere between 50 and 70 hours a week, depending on: how many kids they teach, how many parents they have to deal with, how many clubs they have to sponsor, how many sports they coach, home many committees they are on.

Despite the hours they work, and despite the importance of their profession, teachers are notoriously underpaid. Not only that, but they are seriously underappreciated. Parents are rude and insulting, the general public has no idea how hard they work, and -- if you work for a public school -- politicians are constantly telling you what to do, blaming you for failing kids and making excuses for why you can't be paid as much as other professionals.

Forget about the summers. With the number of hours teachers work each week in 9 months, they're working at least as many hours as most people do in 12 months, if not more. So they deserve the break -- not that most of them get to enjoy it. Most teachers I know work some kind of part-time job in the summer just to make ends meet. If teachers worked all year long, they'd still be underpaid and overworked.

And, for all this they get a few lousy scented candles at the end of the year.

Now go out and hug a teacher.

The news, such as it is

Where the hell have I been?

100% of my reader wants to know.

About to hop a plane to Austin, Tejas for the SXSW festival. Looking forward mainly to relaxing and eating comida mexicana. It's a bright, sun-shiny day here in Mary land. Yeah, that's right. It's finally nice around these parts, just before we go to a nice, warm place.

Y'all can look forward to lots of on-the-spot posts about soaking in the hot tub and sleeping til noon.

Dropped the pup off at her new kennel. This one lets her have her own little outdoor run. Much better than the jerks at PetsHotel who just locked her up in her gilded cage all day. Of course, I'll reserve judgement on this new place until after we get her back.

Been spending the lunch breaks digging through the CD collection at HoCo library. Most of the albums I wanted are "check out" (read: gone for good), but I did get a few gems, including Mr. Springsteen's Born in the USA.

Yeah. Not so funny, huh? Maybe next time ...