Just for a laugh

While we are on the topic of "best things," how 'bout the best comic strip going today? Well, next to Doonesbury, that is. Get Fuzzy features the wittiest writing this side of Joe Posnaski.

Here is a recent Sunday strip that kept me laughing throughout the morning. (Click on the image to enlarge it so you can read it.) Enjoy.

WKRP In Cincinnati

Greatest TV show ever? No question: WKRP In Cincinnati. And now, thanks to the ever-alert Rick Westcott, who told me about this great use of the internet, you can see the entire first season online.

Watch the very first episode here:

And now you can watch Little Ed, the preacher of the Church of the Mighty Struggle.

Get the devil in a Bulgarian Headlock!

Enjoy...

Dance Fever

By my reckoning, I just attended my 23rd dance recital. But who's counting?

A Sunday in mid-May, the Sunday of Mayfest, is the day of Miss Shelly's dance recital at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center. All. Day. Long. Three separate recitals--1:30, 5 and 8. It wasn't that long ago when Rebekah and Leah were both dancing, and both were in multiple dances--five or six dances--in each of the recitals. We would get the girls there around 8 in the morning and get a room at the hotel next to the PAC. We would be at all three performances, taking short breaks in the hotel in between. Ah, those were the days.

Today I only went to the 5 o'clock show. Rebekah was there, but in the audience next to me with Lex. Leah was in five dances, but her main responsibility is now as a full time teacher with Miss Shelly. So I was there to not only see her dance, but to see her kiddos dance as well. And dance they did. (There is Leah off to the left in the wings directing one of her classes in their dance.)



Leah danced in the opening number on very short notice--she had one week to learn the routine, which, of course, she did. She is so good...



For many of those 23 years we not only cheered on Rebekah and Leah, but our "other" daughters as well--the Randolph girls. Jennifer is Rebekah's age and is now a teacher with Miss Shelly. Melanie is graduating next week from Savanah College of Art and Design. Christine just finished her sophomore year in college in NYC. So that leaves Lara as our last other daughter dancing. All of the Randolph girls are great dancers, just like Rebekah and Leah. But Lara--well, she is something special. I am no dance expert, but this is as close to perfect as you can get. (Lara has the white tights in the front. She has absolutely perfect poise and posture here.)



Leah danced in two jazz numbers and a modern dance number.



Afterward we visited with Leah, Jennifer, Miss Shelly and some of the other teachers at this great school. Am I proud of Leah? You bet. Will I be there for my 24th dance recital next May? You can count on it.

Oh, Leah was also happy that her friend Ty came. I think this was his fourth recital. He has a long way to go to catch up.

Five albums on a desert island

You know the drill. You are going to be stranded on a desert island, and you will have a solar-powered CD player but can only take five CDs with you. (Why, when the Howell's took all of their worldly belongings on a three hour cruise, you can only take five CDs seems at first to be an unnecessary hardship. But let's say the Howells are on board with you and there is just no more room...)

I have thought about this for several years--really. My friend (and my brother-in-law's brother-in-law; it's complicated) Don Mann and I will sit around and discuss this for hours. One rule we strictly abide by: No greatest hits albums. Those are artificial records made solely for a quick buck, not for art. A pox on them all.

So far I have come up with three "for sure" albums:

1. Exile On Main Street--Rolling Stones
2. Sticky Fingers--Rolling Stones
3. Eat A Peach--Allman Brothers

So, I have two more to go. Here are some of the nominees:

Pet Sounds--The Beach Boys (actually, as my friend Mike D. points out, it is Brian Wilson with The Wrecking Crew studio musicians who put this together)
Layla And Other Assorted Lovesongs--Derek and the Dominoes
Excitable Boy--Warren Zevon
Leon Live--Leon Russell
On Stage--Loggins and Messina
Hotel California--The Eagles
Kind Of Blue--Miles Davis
The Royal Scam--Steely Dan
All 'N All--Earth, Wind and Fire

And, to show I am not entirely pagan:

Glo--Delirious
Shotgun Angel--Daniel Amos

OK, go to it. Argue for or against any of these nominees. Add to the list.

Once we have this decided, the next question will be a much harder one: Ginger or Mary Ann?

Do we really need more books?

A very humbling shopping trip today. Stopped by the Mardel in south Oklahoma City and spent some time browsing through their bargain book shelves.

(For a review of the really poor customer service I received at this--and other--Mardel store, see post below.)

There were hundreds of titles, mostly all spine-out, on half a dozen shelving units, both fiction and non-fiction. Each book had a colored sticker on it to designate what percentage off of the already discounted price you would get should you choose to buy one of these misfit books. Were these old stock books that had been in a warehouse for years, if not decades? Hardly. Many were published in 2007--I know, because I was the acquisitions editor for some. Or the writer.

It is always an, um, experience to see a book you wrote on the bargain shelf. With a 90% off sticker. I think the store was actually paying customers to take one of my books off their hands.

(At my local Borders store here in Tulsa, Scott--the general manager--likes to stock books from local authors. He has had my books on endcaps or prominent table displays. Right now, The Gospel According To Dan Brown is on a shelf just inside the store. Hardcover. Marked down to three bucks. Next to those collections of Edgar Poe poems that are priced four bucks. At least I am in good company.)

As I looked over these titles--many of them written by very notable and good authors--I had to ask myself, Do we really need to publish any more books? It is a question that I face every time I see stacks of discounted books.

Of course we do need more books. Just not as many as I or anyone in publishing would think.

Need a copy of Cracking Da Vinci's Code/Youth Edition? I know where you can get one ... cheap.

Poor service is inexcusable

I visited the Mardel bookstore off I-240 in the City today. (Mardel is a regional Christian bookstore chain, founded by the same family who started Hobby Lobby stores. "The City" is Oklahoma City.) Wanted to get a copy of a classic book, The Cloud Of Unknowing.

They didn't have it, or even stock it. A book that has been in print almost continually since the 14th century, and they don't stock it.

What they did have--in abundance--was bad attitude.

I walked up to the incorrectly-named "customer service counter" in the book section. A woman by the name of Amy was looking over special order forms. These are pieces of paper that give the name of a book requested by a customer who is not standing at the customer service counter at the time. As a matter of fact, the customers who were represented on the papers that had Amy's rapt attention were not even in the store. As far as I know, they may not have even been in the same state.

But I was there. At the counter. In the store. In Oklahoma.

My request was simple: "If I were the book, The Cloud Of Unknowing, where would I be? The book is by an unknown author, so you would have to look it up by title." Simple, straightforward. A quick request that required a quick answer. But Amy was busy with her pieces of paper. My question caused her to have to look up from what she was doing, move her hand about eight inches to the right, and flip through her inventory catalog. A lot to ask, I know. She finally got around to doing this after sighing heavily, looking up a couple more special order titles on her computer, THEN looking for my title. Halfway through her flipping through the pages of the catalog--a demanding task, as it is ordered in alphabetical order according to title, and she had to decide if the book I mentioned would be filed under "T" or "C"--she went back to her computer screen to revisit the precious special orders.

After a wait in which I figured the Cloud had probably passed and all was now known, Amy glared in my direction.

"We don't have the book and we don't normally stock it but we can order it for you." Actually, she ran all this together so that it was more like "Wedon'thavethebookandwedon'tnormallystockitbutwecanorderitforyou." And she said this with a very clear tone that let me know ordering this book was the last thing she wanted me to do.

"I'll get it elsewhere, thanks."
"Ok." Back to the special order forms.

I don't ask that clerks in stores line my path with rose petals. They don't have to rush to my side to make sure my every need is met. But civility is expected, and kindness would not be out of line. Rudeness is my cue to take my business elsewhere. Perhaps Amy was an exception. Perhaps. But I have encountered rudeness at other Mardel stores, including the store at 71st and 169 in Tulsa, and the store on Powers in Colorado Springs. So my next guess is that floor personnel at Mardel stores are trained to be rude. Hey--all I have to go on is personal observation. My guess is as good as any.

So, unless there is a great reason for me to enter through the portal of a Mardel--and I can find books many other places (for instance, stores that actually stock a classic book)--I am done with them. Thanks Mart Green for your contribution to my alma mater. Your family's Hobby Lobby stores (founded and owned by your father) have some good deals on picture frames from time to time, so I will continue to shop there. But I am no longer interested in the rudeness your staff shows me on a consistent basis at your Mardel stores.

See ya.

"I" is now "i"

OK. I am willing to change.

Adam Palmer says "internet" should be lowercase, as is other media, such as "radio," "television," and "newspaper." He cites that esteemed grammatical resource, Wired magazine.

So, from now on, it is "internet."

There.

Are you happy now?

Graduation time!

Yesterday was commencement at Mid-America Christian University. Beautiful day for it. I went because, well, I have too. I am part of the administration there, so it is rather expected of me to show up. But I think I would have gone anyway had I known how fun it would be.

I lined up to march in at the end of the administrators and just in front of the faculty. (Next year I will get a cap and gown so I look more academic. The blue suit looked very "director of strategic marketing-ish," but a master's gown with my University of Oklahoma colors would be a lot more fun for commencement.) I turned to introduce myself to the gentleman behind me.

"Hi, I'm Jeff."
"I'm retarded. Retired. I mean, retired."

I knew right away I had found a friend. I never did catch his name. He must be north of 80 years old, but sharp as a knife. He grew up in Dayton, as did I. (We had a long march, from the administration building to the arena where the ceremony was held, so we got to talk a lot.) His memories include buildings and schools that are no longer in existence. He taught religion at MACU, and I'll bet he was a hoot to have as a professor.

"You know the best thing about these ceremonies?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"When the guy praying at the end says, 'Amen' and we all get to go home."

We got to our seats--second row; at least I am not a vice president and didn't have to sit on the stage--and he starts digging in in his pockets. Pulls out some candy that we shared throughout the next hour.

The speaker was Lesa Smaligo, an education lobbyist for the Oklahoma Legislature. Not a really big position. I mean, it is above a greeter at Wal-Mart, but not by much. But she was a great choice for commencement speaker--her speech was less than ten minutes long.

"Is that it?" asked my elderly friend. "Is she finished?"
"Looks like it," I said. "She's sitting down."
"I like her! She can speak again next year if she keeps it short like that."

Then came the graduates. Happy and smiling. I don't yet know many of the students--I only knew one graduate by name--but they were a good-looking group. One kid did a somersault onto the stage, got up, wrapped the president in a bear hug then waved his diploma wildly as he walked off. I thought he should have got a bigger ovation than he did. Most just smiled, shook hands with those on stage, and walked off. I think there should have been more gymnastics, maybe some dancing. But then again, I want clowns and dancing at my funeral, so what do I know?

As we filed out, my new friend seemed to have had a good time.

"That was shorter than last year. Good, good."

I hope to sit with him again next year. Maybe I will bring the candy...