Meet Mr. Duke (2005)

Many men dream of going out with a supermodel. A long-legged, blond-haired, jaw-dropping, traffic-stopping, stare-inducing, beauty who won the genetic lottery.

I go out with a 120 lb. supermodel everyday, and frankly sometimes it's a little much. Cars slow down, people stare-- and it's not me they are checking out.

What kind of dog is that?? is something we hear almost every time we leave the house. The question implies that looks like that don't come from random dog sex, but from hundreds of years of expensive dog breeding.

Sometimes I think people ask that question not because of their curiosity about his canine heritage, but because they want us to stop so that they can admire him, hands on. Everyone wants to stroke his blond hair and run their hands along his long, lean back and graceful fawn-colored ears. It's the same desire for luxury that makes you stroke cashmere sweaters and caress Italian sports cars.

My dog is one of the most beautiful animals in the city of Austin, and his only pedigree is the 55 dollar bill of sale from the Humane Society of Williamson County. Three years after we got him, he's still on the flier for the shelter, and I know there aren't two dogs like him in the world.

What does he look like? My sweetie is shaped like a German Shepard, but twice the size. He looks like Rin Tin Tin. He looks like a Belgian Malinois, but only in the right light. He has the looks and size of an Anatolian Shepard, except the ears are all wrong. He might be part Akita..and some people even think he looks like a wolf.

Alas, like many of the truly beautiful, he could care less about the attention of the masses. People stop to pet him, and he walks off in mid stroke, They stop watering their lawns to admire him, and he marks their bushes. He could care less about his public. Adulation from the great unwashed means nothing to him.

I can't imagine if we had actually paid to have something this beautiful in our lives. I know that if, on purpose, we had purchased a, well, whatever he is, we would spend a lot of time explaining why we had made this highly impractical choice. His coat is better suited to a professional sled dog than to his real life role as a sofa based, bark-a-lounger. He sheds so much we wonder why he isn't going bald.

As benefits a dog of his many advantages, he gives a lot back to the community. Every time someone asks where we got him, we proudly answer
"He's a Humane Society of Williamson County rescue dog!" The usual response is a slack-jawed: "I didn't know that you could get dogs like that at a shelter!"

So, if you are considering adding a pet to the family in the near future, try the shelter route. You just might end up with a stunner like ours. True love might be blind, but outer beauty never hurts.

The dog in the top, right-hand corner is Mr. Duke!

Al Franken in Austin: A Broadcast from Out of the Past (2005)

Cameraphone pic of Al Franken and Paul Sicard!

    
When my husband was the only person in town to win tickets* to the live broadcast of the Al Franken Show, I was so excited. I would get to hear, and see, the latest advances in talk radio!

Air America has gotten acres of ink for their “progressive views.” Yet, in his first live Air America broadcast from Austin the Al Franken Show seemed hopelessly mired in the past, much like the unwitting victims on the TV show What Not to Wear.

The broadcast exposed outdated and outmoded concepts lurking in our collective ideological closet. Perhaps it was a show from a time when muckraking journalism attempted to shine light on standard business practices. Maybe it was a broadcast from the days when unions were gaining strength to protect the common worker. The show could have even been from the Roosevelt era, which brought dignity in retirement with Social Security. Everyone knows that those concerns are now passé.

Broadcasting with co-host Katherine Lanpher from the depression-era State Theater, Franken might have as well have been getting his news from teletype machines and carrier pigeons.

From the funeral-home-style paper fans advertising Air America to a faux advertisement from the Dallas Convention and Visitors Bureau—asserting that Dallas has now been assassination free for 30, no 40 (!) years-- and imploring people to “put the top down and drive thru Dealey Plaza,” it seemed like a transmission from long before the Internet.

…Men are from the Hot Wheels aisle, women are from the Barbie aisle. (2005)

Getting a Valentine's gift for your significant other can be as tricky as making a tactical error on The Apprentice. One mistake and you'll be painfully backpedaling for weeks. Thus the question lurks in the minds of men everywhere--what do women want for Valentine's?

As the big day creeps ever nearer, the holiday advertising becomes as inescapable as kudzu. Some advertising features sex, and some features romance. And it all seems to be aimed at men doing the purchasing. For Valentine's is about the myth of men pursuing, not the woman's art of being caught.

But why is it that men are the ones doing the buying? Shouldn't love be a two way street? Not a chance buddy, not a chance. And the toys we played with as children are partially responsible.

One painfully popular guide to male/female relationships is, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Perhaps a more accurate title might be, Men are from the Hot Wheels Aisle, Women are from the Barbie Aisle.

Let's start with a look at how boys are indoctrinated into the world of "Me Macho Tarzan, You Decorative Jane." The "boy aisle" at the local discount retailer is filled with rows of crushing, maiming, crashing, shooting and body-slamming things. With all of this relentless activity, is it any wonder that a sensitive man is as difficult to find as half-price Godiva?

Meanwhile, back in Barbieland, girls are indoctrinated into cleaning, cooking, grooming, and caring for others. With that in mind it's hard to consider the Easy Bake Oven and Snack Center as anything other than a tool of capitalistic sex-role indoctrination. Or, as Barbie might say during a political uprising, "Never mind the barricade, girlfriends; lets just make more cupcakes!"