I snapped this picture yesterday afternoon in the plaza at the corner of Saint Paul and Federal streets, where homeless men are known to congregate. Nobody was there to claim all of these products.
So says NPR’s Frank Deford, on Morning Edition today:
But now, I have to tell you, they’re all gone. Sorry, sports fans: No more dynasties. Through the years, the Celtics have just sort of petered out. The Cowboys became to sports like the Kardashians are to entertainment: just being around is enough. And now the Lakers have simply, suddenly cratered, slogging along well below .500.
Listen to it here, via KUHF.
Ick ick ick, I can’t believe I just typed those. The price we pay for our work.
It’s not that I’m above regional accents; far from it. I keep the New York in me mostly hidden, unless bourbon and the wrong side of midnight are involved, which now that I think about it isn’t that rare. BUT even then it’s mostly relegated to a few cauuuufees and I’m on my way. It’s an accent I pick back up every holiday season in Poughkeepsie, when my grandmother asks when I’ll be home again and I get sad and I’m forced to hang out with people named Pizzarelli and Lomuscio at local bars.
A few months ago, before I took this position, I interviewed Jane Bryant, who owns a crumbling apartment building off Davis Street in Oak Cliff. The conceit was this: Lee Harvey Oswald used to live there, the city wanted it torn down due to its condition. The city won, sort-of – read some of the saga here – so Bryant is selling off the building piece by piece.
She told me she was going to do this back in October, so I’d been updating eBay recently, looking for the goods. She already sold someÂ floorboards, and she’s in the market to unload some bannisters andÂ medicineÂ cabinets.
The coup d’gross, though, is the bathtub. The description:
LEE HARVEY OSWALD BATHED HERE! Original 1925 cast iron bathtub from historic unit #2 at 600 (602-604) Elsbeth, Dallas, Texas, listed in the Warren Commission.Â Oswald lived there from November 1962 to March 1963 with wife Marina and baby daughter.Â Building to be demolished November 2012!Â To view property contact 214-577-7119.Â Buyer responsibleÂ for arrangingÂ and paying for shipping separately.
If that’s the kind of thing you enjoy – bathing in the tubs of presidential assassins– the opening bid is $235. No bids have been placed.
If you were waiting for Chipper Jones to, at long last, retire from the Atlanta Braves so he could watch 21-year-old movies on REELZ and then expound on his thoughts regarding the Kennedy assassination and the Warren Report, well, it happened.
Adam Ashenfelter arranged to surprise his girlfriend Aubrie with a proposal at the Dallas Arboretum. I believe this happened back in August, but the above video was just published today.
Craig Miller said he would dress as a woman for a show if the Texas Rangers ended up coughing up the division. They did, and so he did this morning. Since The Ticket’s new HQ is right across Victory Plaza from WFAA’s studio, that led to what you see below which, while almost certainly in poor taste given the nature of the group he video bombs (first appearance is around the 50 second mark), still made me laugh. I’m sorry.
Uncle Barky is reporting that Good Morning Tulsa‘s co-anchor Laura Moss was seen interviewing at Fox 4 on Monday. According to Barky, “the initial tip on Moss said that she was a likely candidate to replace incumbent Good Day anchor Lauren Przybyl.” Though he does mention there are other opening, so she may be looking to fill one of those.
I bring this up because I graduated around the same time as Moss. We both went to OU, but I did the print program where she did broadcast. If you watch NBC 5, you’ll recognize the names Amanda Guerra and Keaton Fox, both OU graduates. (They also have producer Katie den Daas over there, too.) We were all at OU at the same time. I could have followed their paths. But, at that time, OU had a real hardcore news professor. You knew about him way before you took him. Few got out of his class with an A. I was the type of person who had to get As. When it came time to enroll in this guy’s class, there magically appeared another professor who was teaching the same course. Our very first day, I committed the most cowardly act of my life: I switched. The original professor saw me in the lobby later that day and called me “chicken shit.” At the time, I thought I had made the right decision.
But as I’ve watched den Daas, Moss, Guerra, and Fox go about their broadcast careers, I sometimes wonder “what if.” Then I realize I mispronounce so many common words (color, museum, hill) that I never would have made it in TV.
All that to say: Laura Moss was seen interviewing at Fox 4.
I’ve mentioned a few times how much I enjoy Main Street Garden and all the interactions I’ve had there (with those who have homes and those who do not). You’re probably tired of me harping on it. But I have one more story to tell.
When I first moved downtown, I was very aware of the homeless. I carried crackers to give them if they asked for food. And when I ran out of crackers, I would take them to a Starbucks or a pizza place and get them something to eat. This lasted maybe six months. For the past year and a half, I’ve not carried anything on me. I purposely don’t carry cash because then I’m not lying when I tell someone who asks for money that I don’t have anything on me. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken anyone to get food.
The other night, I took my dog to Main Street Garden so he could do his nightly thing. He got to the park and disappeared around the corner. When I caught up to him, I saw that he was standing in front of a homeless man who was finishing his dinner. My dog was begging for a bite. Embarrassed, I apologized, and rushed up to get Miko to leave the man alone. But the man stopped me. He said he had a lot of chicken and he wondered if he could give Miko some. He then held up half the chicken. I told him that was unnecessary and Miko wasn’t really hungry. But the guy insisted, and I told him he could give him a small piece if he’d like to. He gave Miko a very large chunk of his dinner.
Walking away, I realized how big that small act was. It greatly softened my hardened heart. And, once more, I realized how lucky I am to have a park that allows me to have these interactions I wouldn’t have otherwise.
While walking past the First Baptist parking garage today, hoping for another glimpse of Robert Jeffress in his ill-fitting suit, looking like Josh Baskin at the end of Big, something on the ground caught my eye. It was a postcard with an old steamship on it.Â Previously, the most interesting things I’d seen on the ground around there: a tag from a fancy wig for black ladies and an old remote control.
I picked it up and flipped it over and, I guess I already spoiled the suspense, it was postmarked May 3, 1914, in Detroit. And it’s addressed to a Mrs. Henry Miller, referred to in the salutation as “Hattie.” From the real estate empire family? I can’t tell. Anyway, but if you’re missing it, it’s on my desk. If you’re some sort of weird, steam-punky time traveler, on the other hand, and the postcard is the key to unlocking some world destroying riddle, it is absolutely not on my desk, and I’m just making up stories again. Pics after the jump.