Interesting article.

About the state's largest university, from the Albuquerque Journal.

UNM Finds no Cronyism.

Interesting to me for a number of different reasons I won't go into.

Perhaps the State Ethics Commission should be asked about this.

Pride MMVIII (C.E.)

Pride was a hoot!

Glad to take at least partial credit for one group I won't name getting out to the march for the very first time.

Went to a party with 'em afterward and man, did I have fun.

Life's good!

Complicated, but good.

Back to the cagey cat.

I've *never* pretended my life wasn't absurdly complex.

Goes with the territory.

A former freind from my North Hollywood days (with whom I wish I were still on speaking terms -- one of two, from that particular lifetime) once told me in a chat room that I'd built for free for the studio he worked for (which had helped build a major cable TV network) that I was a "cagey cat". I could say *much* more on that, but heck. I'm savin' *some* things for the novel. Truth is *very* much stranger than fiction! And in the words of Walter Moers' Captain Bluebear, a cat "must have his secrets, after all; they make him seem attractive and mysterious".

This little online journal's gone through multiple transformations over the years. It started basically as an idle excercise in writing where I might get some occasional feedback, as opposed to the letters typed out on the back of pizza shop flyers on a 1923 Royal "Junior" typewriter that I snail-mailed to one of my chat room freinds of some years before in another damn state at the time. (BTW -- he remains one of my precious handful of readers.)

In the time *since* that time -- and specifically, in this latest stretch of time -- I seem to have gone from being a total nobody to being someone large numbers of people kind of have to trust. And I will *not* betray that trust. They depend on me just like I depended on the people who trained me.

And they have *not* come to trust me because of what I have written in here, over the years. There is *plenty* of deeply, personally embarassing material in here, I assure you. I have no doubt I'd wince, myself, re-reading most of it. But it was true enough to me when I wrote it to write it. The difference between now and then is basically that then, I didn't matter all that much. And now, somehow, I do, in ways I can *only* imagine. The irony is that as what I write matters more, I have to keeep myself out of the story. I'm not the story. I'm just the person relaying it.

The stakes are infinitely higher now.

You want my background? Well, there's plenty of it here. Not nearly all, but enough, if you want to have at it. Have at it! Have fun. Rip it apart. Confront me with it, if you want.

What I write here from this point out is *not* just for a handful of chat room freinds. It's for posterity. And yes, there's lots and lots I've already written in here that might call my character and judgment into question. Ask me anything you'd like. I've got no secrets.

Bring it on.

And please forgive me if I cease, for the time being, at least, to use this online journal as a venue to discuss the day-to-day things I encounter. I do this by my own volition, and assure you -- and it's a *very* hard choice for me to make.

But some things quite simply matter infinitely more than my own day-to-day frustrations and triumphs.

I will continue posting.

Not near as often as in past.

And the focus of what I write about will change. It's changed before. And it will change again. Big deal.

Welcome to the internet.

I love the people I work with.

Not to be vague, but it's a complex little game playing out on multiple fronts all at once, here.

And posting about people I work with seems to have rather further complicated the game by a bit. Not my intention, but I *do* see that now. A single "off the record" conversation proved it to me.

I *will* say this.

I love the people I work with on a day-in and day-out basis.

(I've never been one to enjoy *simple* games.)

"Coal River".

Book review post.

Haven't finished it yet. And while it's kinda advocatey it's really well structured -- a complex but compelling narrative about mountaintop removal mining in Appalachia.

Thank gawd I seem to be developing something vaguely resembling a personal life these days, though I'm sure there's plenty of potential for controversy there, as with everything I've ever done. I honestly don't think I could survive right now without it. Let's face it -- doing what I do for a living -- coming home after that to read even well-written and very compelling tomes about SMCRA lawsuits ain't exactly the sort of thing that tends to make a person happy or sane.

There are, quite simply, more important things in life.

I'm learning that now -- like I learn everything -- the hard way.

I'm also learning what to save for the novel. :)

Texas menu highlights.

Visited home this weekend.

Highlights from the menu follow.

Upon arriving at 11:30 PM my mother served me freshly chilled poached salmon with pickled beets and homemade tartar sauce with herbs grown in her yard in the space in her backyard which she has converted into a private entertaining space, as the mimosas were in full bloom. Perfect light menu for a late-night arrival, complete with tryptophane to put me right to sleep.

The following day, for breakfast, she fed me a homemade lemon poppyseed cake with strawberry preserves made by her very talented -- and very dedicated canner of a freind who's currently recovering from a mastectomy.

For lunch, we visited a *very* fine Italian restaurant -- new -- which features its own fresh-made mozarrella each and every day. The young woman who served us, winds up, had sung as a child in the "rainbow choir" I was part of, which my mother directed -- she's never waited tables before, but you see, since she's now taking care of her ailing father, she needs a good-paying job with flexible hours, despite having a degree.

I was glad to make her acquaintance once again, as I never thought I might *ever* be glad to ever see anyone again from my youth in the now utterly bigoted Presbyterian Church, U.S.A. The creme brulee at this place was absolutely, without question, worthy of *any* restaurant with a Michelin star. Thus, and sometimes only thus, are longstanding wounds healed.

The following day we had a nice lunch at what I'd now easily call El Paso's "second best" Italian restaurant. How far, indeed, El Paso has come since the days of "Cappetto's" and "Via Napoli", which all tasted the same! I count this place as "second best" only because they seemed so utterly fixated on the details of presentation that all other considerations tended to go, more or less, by the wayside. Of course, they might yet considerably improve, and certainly, their attention to detail is admirable. Their asparagus tips were utterly second to none. And the veal -- yes, veal -- I would call it "en roulade" -- but being an Italian restaurant, I think it wasn't that, exactly -- was to *die* for. Yes, the baby calf died for art. But the attention to detail rather flagged, if only a bit, in some other particulars. Still, I wholeheartedly appplaud their aspirations and wish them none but the best.

Then finally we ate at Sam's -- the new Chinese restaurant. They clearly have excellent staff in the kitchen -- their food is second to none -- but they clearly suffer from scrimping on the front end of the house. It's clear the waitstaff are overworked, even as they desperately *want* to please you. At the same time, though, the owner of the place makes the rounds, himself, repeatedly, so I *don't* seriously think he means ill -- I think he merely means to cut costs wherever he thinks that he can. I, personally, think he might do quite well to double his waitstaff. It would hardly cut into his bottom line, and could only improve their tips, as well as customer loyalty.

But that's one of the quandries facing small restauranteurs in marginal markets.