This explains alot

Today a poster in a school room caught my eye. It wasn't of a kitten dangling from a tree, or of a boat sailing above an inspirational quote. The poster featured a cartoonish rendering of the Alamo and the words to one "Texas Pledge." Astounded, I asked my co-workers if they knew about this craziness. "Yes," they replied. "The kids say it every day!" I shook my head.

The words to the Texas pledge of allegiance are:

Honor the Texas flag;

I pledge to allegiance to thee, Texas,

one state under God,

one and indivisible.

(The God part, if you're keeping track, was added two years ago, to "acknowledge our Judeo-Christian heritage" and "the presence and influence of God" in the U.S.)

I am surprised I haven't yet heard a recitation of this pledge, in school or at the rodeo. I am intrigued to see if everyone takes off their cowboy hats to say the pledge, and if it's appropriate to shout, "Yeehaw!" at the end.

Cheers!

First, Harry Potter and friends cope with the horrors of the Dark Lord returning and puberty hitting by gulping down butterbeers in "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."

Then, President Obama eases racial tensions by inviting Henry Louis Gates, Jr., and Sgt. James Crowley over to the White House for a beer summit.

I would like to suggest that when butterbeer and Bud Lite isn't strong enough to solve life's major problems, world leaders and heroes turn to other culinary strategies for help.

When meeting with key figures in North Korea to discuss nuclear disarmament, Hillary Clinton could arrive armed with cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery. Or when visiting French President Nicolas Sarkozy, she could bring the Franzia. In Iran, she could bring Bobby Flay for a "throwdown."

Bon appetit!

The Invisible Hook

If there's one Amazon review you read this season, let this be the one!

Houst-zen

Last week, Garrett and I began an exploration of Zen meditation. We're enrolled in a 5-week introductory class at the Houston Zen Center. In the first class, after leaving our shoes and our worries at the door, we shared our reasons for being there ("Garrett made me come!") and learned a little bit about the history of Zen. We also had the opportunity to practice meditating on some cozy pillows.

The first week's "homework" is to meditate each day for 15 minutes, and to practice "mindfulness." To practice mindfulness, we are to pay full attention to the activity of opening and closing a door (in the natural context, not as an autistic activity): reaching for the knob, turning the knob, crossing the threshold, etc. It sounds silly, but it is actually a great example of the spirit of Zen. Rather than focusing on where we've been or where we're going (which the brain is very good at doing), we are to focus on the here and now. Oh, meditation! Where you Zen all my life?

My Kind of Town

After writing yesterday's post, I was surprised to read an article about Chicago in the New York Times today. Apparently, people from the suburbs are buying up condos in the city as their second homes! Not only that, but people from Europe (Europe!) are snatching up homes in Chicago. One family from Switzerland "wanted a modern American counterpart to the slower European country life." I wonder if this same family would be willing to swap residences with someone who would prefer the slower European country life?

I think Kunstler would be very pleased with the "revitalization" going in downtown Chicago (homes! parks! art! dining! entertainment!), but would argue for a more democratic rebirth of the city -- one in which people who do not have $300,000 to spare on a second home could also find a place to live, work, and play.