Wendy Davis Shoes

Okay, here's my song, based on Kim Carnes' "Bette Davis Eyes."

Her hair is solid gold,
Her lips faintly rouge,
Her eyes are sturdy bold,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.
She'll turn the issues on you,
You won’t get to refuse,
She's pure as Texas snow,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.
And she'll squeeze you
To unease you,
Turn you inside out and freeze you.
She's precocious,
and she knows just what it takes to make a room hush.
She's not Greta Garbo, spread the news,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.
She'll let you speak your mind,
(it whets her appetite).
Give you plenty of noose,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.
She'll take a tumble on you,
Roll you like you were dice,
All on the nightly news,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.
She'll expose you
when she bowls you
from your feet with the words she throws you.
She's ferocious,
and she knows just what it takes to make a room hush.
Good old boys know they will lose,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.

Good old boys know they will lose,
She's got Wendy Davis shoes.

The price of fame and fortune

Yesterday I asked my 15-year-old daughter if she’d rather be rich and famous, or poor and obscure.

(middle class poor and obscure. not begging on the streets poor and obscure)

“Poor and obscure,” she said.


“If you were rich and famous, you could never go anywhere without being noticed.”
True, but you’d always get the best table at restaurants.
“Yes, but then you’d never get a chance to eat because people would be constantly bothering you for autographs or photos.”
True, but if you had enough money, you could reserve the whole restaurant and have it to yourself for the evening.
“Yes, but then you couldn’t people watch and eavesdrop on conversations.”
True, but you’d never have to sit next to a crying baby.
“I change my mind. Rich and famous.”
I thought so. Everybody has a breaking point.

Saturday at the Dallas Museum of Art

When your child says, "Dad, can we go to the museum?", you would be an idiot father if you didn't drop everything you're doing, take a shower, put on your sneakers, and head to town.

That's what my daughter and I did today. Took the train into Dallas to visit the Dallas Museum of Art.

Saw some statues, saw some paintings, ate lunch in the cafe, and basically had a great time. And that's all because I'm not an idiot father.

An idiot father would say, "I'm too tired," or "Maybe tomorrow," or "Can't you see I'm mowing the lawn? What do ya think I'm made of, money?"

A NON-idiot father, like myself, would look up information on how to get there, the museum hours, and how much it costs, which is FREE, which is even MORE reason to hit the trail to Big D.

I try very hard not to be an idiot father.

Sometimes I fail.

But not today.

Saturday at the Museum

Let it Rain

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." Longfellow

Let it Rain

The Birds are back in town

You'd think Hitchcock was still alive after driving through a swarm of birds like this. But they're only barn swallows, nesting under bridges, trying to take care of their families just like me and you.

Barn swallow swarm

Barn swallow

To Go Boldly

I commute 17 miles to work.

It’s not a bad commute when the weather’s nice. It’s not bad when it’s really cold, I just have to put on more gear, wear thicker gloves.

If I’m running late, I’ll take the highway. But if I’m not in a hurry, I take the access road that runs parallel to the highway. The south access road.

I know every dip and turn and bump of the south access road and I can ride it in the dark, the light, when it’s rainy or when it’s snowing.

But the other day, just for fun, I took the north access road.

I saw houses I never knew where there; business I had never seen before. I had no idea where the bumps were or where the turns were. Different animals. Different cars. Different smells.

I was only 100 yards north of where I usually ride, but I had discovered a whole new planet in which to explore.

It turned my ride into an unexpected adventure.

It’s so easy to get trapped in a routine. Do the same thing the same way, every day, day after day.

Sometimes it’s best to shake things up and try something new.

To clear away the cobwebs of everyday living.

To do the unthinkable.

To go boldly.

Too blind to see

I saw a patch of Black Eyed Susans on the side of the road the other day and decided to stop and take some photographs.

That's what photographers do.

We see something new, something that wasn't there yesterday, something that if you pass it by you'll never get a chance to see it again, and we stop, cross a busy highway, get down on our knees, take some photographs, and pray not to get hit by passing garbage trucks.

The next day, I saw Black Eyed Susans everywhere. At every turn, by every road, every fence line, and in a lot safer places to take photographs.

And they had probably been there for weeks and I had been too blind to see them.

Too stressed over day-to-day problems.

Too focused on things that really don't matter to look up and see the things that do.

Black Eyed Susans