The Ticket’s own Gordon Keith has an op-ed today in the Morning News (paywall) about the annual “What People Earn” issue of Parade and about our desire to know what our friends and neighbors and favorite quarterbacks make. Gordon leads his story with an anecdote involving me, Eric Celeste, and Adam McGill. Careful readers will recognize those last two names; they belong to guys who used to work at D Magazine. Here’s how Gordon spins it:
We were on the patio of a pub and the sun was sinking when my buddy brought up the matter of money.
“Let’s go around the table and every guy give his salary.”
I laughed in my beer at this gathering cloud of beautiful tension. Alcohol is an idiot’s truth serum and a daredevil’s fuel. So Eric went first, then Adam. Tim paused, pregnant with info guaranteed a complicated delivery. He and Adam had the same job at the same place. Tim announced a number several thousand richer than Adam’s.
Through our braying, Adam “figured as much” and assured us that it was “no big deal.” After the flurry, our excitement curdled and the table fell into a glassy regret. It was like the morning after for new swingers. Our version of “Wouldn’t it be great if we knew how much everyone made?” somehow didn’t feel great.
Gordon was kind enough to ask me ahead of time whether I minded if he used that anecdote. This scene went down more than a decade ago (I think at the time Eric was working at the Observer). I have only the faintest memory of it. And, anyway, Gordon had already checked with Adam, who said it was fine with him to have the story told. Adam, by the way, got out of the journalism game a few years ago and now has a respectable job that pays him a real wage. If we went around the table again, pretty sure he’d scoreboard me, which is why, when I go eat pizza at his house tonight, I’m not offering him a dime.
We will have to ask his wife to confirm this, but Ben Fountain must now be insufferable. The onslaught of fawning press has now spread way beyond Dallas. A law-practicing FrontBurnervian points us to the current issue of Entertainment Weekly, whose back page, just off Amy Poehler’s left elbow, calls Fountain’s Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk: “the best book about the Iraq war and Destiny’s Child that you’ll ever read.”
Third option: sheared off by Museum Tower’s glare.
To which I say: finally.
In the end, it’s no surprise the city hired one of its own, Mar
y Jo Giudice, who’s worked for the system since 2004. Candidates came and went, the “went” part mostly because the library budget is anemic compared to other major cities. It’s easier to convince someone to take a promotion than to move across the country, I assume.
That said, the materials budget jumped this year, so maybe we’re turning a corner.
Carol just directed my attention to possibly the loneliest Facebook page in the history of Facebook pages, the one dedicated to renaming Klyde Warren Park ‘Barack Obama Park.” As of this morning, it had one “like.”
The main thrust behind the page: “Who @KlydeWarrenPark was responsible for the decision to name ‘a central gathering space for Dallas and its visitors’ after a 10-yr-old boy?” Answer: the dude who donated more money than all of us, combined. A series of tweets – from an account with 11 followers – continues to tell the story.
And, was/were that/those person/people intoxicated? Pressured by unpleasant forces? Confused? Unaware of effects? Or just simply unaware?
— Barack Obama Park (@BarackObamaPark) November 29, 2012
Dallas is going to have to grow up if it even wants to become a 2nd-class City. Fixing this mistake before it is too late is a good start.
— Barack Obama Park (@BarackObamaPark) November 29, 2012
So where are we now, third-class? Gasp, fourth-class?
This is literally a nine-minute video, posted Dec. 6, of a computer reading the “North Dallas” Wikipedia page. I don’t understand why it exists, but the YouTube user who posted it – WikiPlays – has made 117,749 other similar videos, so there’s obviously some sort of market. Is it for blind people? Lazy people? Bored people?
Recent other videos include a spellbinding “Nemom Railway Station” reading, a tearjerking interpretation of the “Raising of Lazarus,” and a 10-minute piece about “secrecy,” which sort-of goes against the whole idea of secrecy. Have a computer read you your favorite Wikipedia page here.

Yesterday, on my walk back from the Perot Museum, I spotted this sign outside El Fenix.
Today, I called the El Fenix to see what might go into a Deck Park Margarita. My guesses:
- grass clippings (for color)
- shredded money from Kelcy Warren’s secret vault (for richness)
- a individual hair off Klyde Warren’s head (for saltiness)
Turns out: hibiscus flower. Too bad the deck park doesn’t actually have any hibiscus in it.
I think, originally, his last day was supposed to be Friday, March 2. Then it was supposed to be yesterday, March 4. At some point last week, I believe he mentioned that he was going to work through today.
Anyway, you know how these things go. One day becomes two, then a week goes by, then it’s like, OK, I guess we’re still doing this. It’s like failing at quitting smoking or putting off telling loved ones you’re actually alive and you did not, in fact, die when you fell off Reichenbach Falls with Dr. Moriarty. Pretty standard stuff, right? So, in the comments, your guesses as to when Robert will leave Unfair Park, for real.