Too funny ....
DeBerry cites lack of minority players for struggles
Air Force coach Fisher DeBerry, expressing frustration Tuesday with the Falcons' slumping performance, attributed the latest loss in part to No. 20 TCU's having more black players who "can run very, very well."DeBerry, in his 22nd year at the Air Force Academy, first mentioned the academy's lack of minority players compared to other schools while talking to reporters Monday.
He said Air Force needed to recruit faster players. "We were looking at things, like you don't see many minority athletes in our program," DeBerry told The Gazette of Colorado Springs.
When questioned about the remarks during his weekly luncheon Tuesday, the coach didn't hesitate to elaborate.
"It just seems to be that way, that Afro-American kids can run very, very well. That doesn't mean that Caucasian kids and other descents can't run, but it's very obvious to me they run extremely well," DeBerry said in remarks first broadcast Tuesday night by KWGN-TV in Denver.
You know it's a bad day when the coach looks around the locker room after yet another losing game and bemoans the presence of too many slowpoke crackers in uniform. Perhaps a visit to Prairie View A&M would change his outlook a bit.
Well, no, not really. But it's just as bad: Uber has proposed the creation of a band. Toward that end (and if Uber has a better idea about how to start a string on the matter I'll delete this one), let's take stock of what musical ability actually exists in those interested. I'll start with me...
I personally posess three musical instruments: my own voice, one folk guitar (6 string) and one Holton trumpet.
VOICE - When nasal passages are clear, I can provide background vocals or narrative comment.
GUITAR - I can play maybe three songs in a passable strum-accompaniment fashion. I have several ideas more suitable for some other vocalist, namely Lauren. I can perform said ideas in order to provide the suggestion for someone else to render, and might be suitable for providing the guitar backing if I know the key or can learn it (need new strings and the fingerboard needs a good cleaning).
TRUMPET (also CORNET / FLUGEL / BARITONE / VALVE TROMBONE / TUBA) -
In olden times, I won awards for this. With the recent purchase of an electronic practice mute system, I can now practice often again, despite residing in an apartment. I have one gig in a brass band next month, which will play a ceremony that's sending a retiring admiral off from the Battleship Texas.
Of course, any folk, rock or folk-rock outfit would only find occasional use for such an instrument as trumpet (as with harmonica, saxophone, etc.). It's mentioned for completeness. Styles most capable to me have been blues and dixieland, but sax-type solos (as mentioned on LJ about Stewart's "Song On The Radio") are also possible.
So that's me.
There are several signs that you should update your resume. If your boss comes by your office and asks if you have done anything in the past year, that's one sign. If you are asked "so what would you do if you didn't have this job", that's another. Being searched every day for weapons is surely another. And your group throwing a parade celebrating the Astros going to the World Series is surely another. Fortunately I don't work in that group anymore...
On a search regarding Nick Apollo Forte (don't ask), I ran across
and it's the best source of obscure cultural references I've found all week. Some articles look unupdated for a decade or more, while others seem current. Indulge.
So cloning fluffy bunnies and old rover isn't enough, now we're bringing species back from extinction. Did these morons totally MISS Jurassic Park 1-3, or are they just filled with so much confidence that they think nothing can go wrong?
We have a suggested offering for the next available Uber-hosted event, and a challenge for the host himself: Chocolate Covered Bacon.
This weekend, for some odd reason, both the Greek and Italian communities here in Houston decided to put on their annual festivals. This is the first time I can remember both festivals being on the same weekend, but being the trooper I am I decided to try both of them with a lovely companion. One was great, the other mediocre. Which was which? Let me go with my blow-by-blow coverage. Check this out:
Saturday brought cool weather courtesy a cold front that had rolled in late in the week, and a trip downtown to the Greek Festival. We took advantage of the free park & ride shuttle from Lamar High School (thanks, Metro), then headed into the festival. The cost of admission was $3 apiece. The food was excellent, as always. This year I passed on the dinner plate and went with a-la carte items, scarfing a gyros, splitting an order of dolmades and some spanikoptia and tiropita. We passed on the dancing, and went straight to the marketplace where we each stocked up on olive oil, roasted red peppers, and she got some saffron (which is always inexpensive at Greek festival). The prices on all the market items we bought were below the cost of comparable items at the grocery store, and turned out to be a great bargain. We walked around the other shops and whatnot, then picked up a pastry box to take back to people. Total cost of the Greek Festival was around $40 for food and admission, plus what we spent in the market, which doesn't count as this is stuff that was going to be purchased anyway. The fun factor of the Greek festival was a consistantly high 8 out of 10, as the people seem to really be proud of their heritage and after more than just a buck. The food was good quality, the atmosphere festive and the surroundings really put you in the Grecian mood.
Sunday was the Italian Festival. I thought that this festival lost a lot of heart last year when they moved out to the 'burbs, but had to give it another shot this year to know for certain. You may have guessed this is the festival I was not impressed with. But let me tell you why. First of all, they charge for parking. This isn't downtown, it's at the Farm & Ranch Club on Hwy 6 north of I-10. You don't pay for parking in Bear Creek. This same venue hosts the Hot Sauce Festival in September, and that festival didn't charge for parking. Very shady. Next, admission was $5 apiece. I could see it being $5 if you were actually seeing something other than a few statues trucked into a barn and surrounded by rosemary plants, but there was nothing worth seeing for $5. The biggest free attraction was the music, followed closely by the bocce ball games. Sure, that's fun, but it's not $5 of fun. I think, ok, perhaps they just didn't have the venue long enough to decorate it properly, let me check out the food. Surely some locals got together and made a feast worthy of a king. Well, I was wrong again. The food was sub-par, probably below Olive Garden standards. And that, my friends, is very low indeed. Let's see what transgressions they made: First, the salads. At the salad booth was a big bottle of Wish-Bone Italian dressing. You're telling me you people didn't have a grandmother with a blender who couldn't make a vinagrette that would blow the pants off of that dressing? That was pathetic, but let's move on. The eggplant parmesan looked like a premade frozen dish that they just baked after thawing. And right next door to that, at the spaghetti & meatballs booth, the old guy was spooning cheese from a giant jug of Kraft Grated Parm that probably had as much flavor as a big bowl of sawdust. And the most appalling transgression was at the pizza booth. I saw them throwing away take & bake pizza boxes from Randalls. You're kidding me. You're baking take & bake pizza and selling it at the Italian festival? What happened to Italian Pride? We stayed just long enough to watch the pasta eating contest, which I should have entered just to not have to buy a $3 bottle of water, then left vowing to not to return next year. Total cost of the Italian festival came up to around $35, but we had less food, didn't have a box of pastries to take home, and more than anything walked away with the sense that the Italian Festival was just a bunch of fake Italians lookin to make a buck from a bunch of Texans who don't know good Italian food from Chef Boyardee. Screw you Italian Festival, I'm never coming back. Entertainment factor: 2 out of 10, just for the pasta eating contest and the bands.
The moral of the story: skip the Italian festival next year and just go eat a tasty meal at a good Italian Restaurant.
Since some of you may be wondering where in the holy heck that Rocky Review is, I'll tell ya ... I'm holding off for a week. Yep, since all you freakin' bastards hightailed it out of town for a hurricane that dropped about a millimeter of rain for the thrill of sitting on the highways for half a day, I'm taking out my angst on you by returning the favor of waiting.
See, the ideal situation would have had a crew of diehards holed up at River Oaks during Hurricane Rita, the streets surely would have flooded us in, as Allison did years prior. So we would have had to improvise while nobody could leave, playing the unholy trio of cinematic history:
1. Rocky Horror
2. Shock Treatment
3. The Apple
And if we still were locked in without any movie madness, I'll just let this out there: I keep a copy of "Island of Death" on my person at all times.
So now ya know.
Seriously ... review forthcoming next week.
