Friday, November 30, 2007

69 years of pure Evel


As a kid in the 70s, I grew up with a unique kind of hero. There were still the astronauts, the firemen and SWAT cops, but above all there were the stuntmen.

It may have been a golden age for these daredevils, with TV specials and movies bringing them out of the background and into the spotlight. I remember growing up watching men rocketing their motorcycles over cars and through flaming rings, and women blowing themselves up in crates packed with dynamite. My toy box included the Evel Knievel stunt cycle, which you'd crank until it shot out across the floor and, appropriately enough, would usually crash spectacularly and send its helmeted rider flying. Somewhere I still have a Hot Wheels version of the Skycycle he rode down to the bottom of Snake River Canyon.

Hard-drinkin', hard-lovin' and just plain hard-livin', these men and women were with me as I jumped my bicycle off curbs and down ditches filled with cattails. But none stood as tall as Knievel.

For me, and for a lot of people (I think it'd be safe to call him the Godfather of Extreme Sports), Knievel was King. And now, after almost 40 broken bones and countless feats of daring, the King is dead at 69, ongoing illness being the one crash-landing he couldn't bounce back from.

Here's to you, Evel Knievel — thanks for showing me that a life without risk isn't worth living, and death is nothing to fear. You might not have had a perfect life, but you sure lived the hell out of it.




I don't remember where I heard it, but here's a riddle for you.

Q: Why didn't Evel Knievel make it across Snake River Canyon?

A: He was weighed down by his enormous balls.




Speaking of Snake River, here's some video, too:

Evel Knievel's Caesar's Palace jump (and legendary wipeout)!

Big Mack attack!

Snake River Canyon!

And this is just awesome.


Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Pulpo


A souvenir octopus swizzle stick, bought from a glassblower in Juarez and now taking up residence on my desk at work.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

No. 1 with a bullet list

You know what's the one thing I don't like about coming home after a trip out of town? The way air gets trapped in the water pipes. When I took a shower today it sounded like a bagpipe was strangling a cat.


Lopez! and Quile have a problem with those media darlings, Perverted Justice — mostly with its poor word usage:

Lopez!: Perverted Justice? I don't even know what that means!

Quile: It should be "Justice for Perverts."


Hey, we've got friends who sell stuff — don't you want to celebrate the Savior's birthday by buying some of it? Jesus would want you to. So go check out Lisa's stuff, and then take a look at Lindy's.


So Blogger asked me if I wanted to update this template and I said sure and now everything looks goofy. And that's why all the text looks so ginormous now. Which means we'll be tinkering with it, so bear with us while things are being moved around, added or dropped.

Wow. This is possibly the most random post yet.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The problem with journalism today


"I don't know what that has to do
with the product."


— UT Austin journalism student at a Jim Lehrer lecture last night, regarding what the student considered a professor's overemphasis on interviewing skills.