Going Batty

Our kids' obsessions seem to progress in lockstep fashion. Both kids were totally gone for Thomas the Tank Engine until just after their (Thomas-themed) fourth birthday parties; then, at four years plus one day, we abruptly transitioned into "all Justice League, all of the time." While PJ is channeling Superman in this photo, both boys are in total and complete agreement that Batman beats all. Connor was Batman for Halloween two years in a row (okay, technically he was Batman the first year and Batman Beyond the second, and if you have boys in your life then you, too, know that the former is Bruce Wayne and the latter is Terry McGinnis, but I digress) and he enjoyed wearing his costumes - well, everywhere. The highlight was the evening trip to Walgreens with his dad: Connor, sporting the "old- school, non-muscle-chest" gray, black and yellow getup, refused to hold Parnell's hand in the parking lot ("because people will know that I'm not really Batman") and then serenaded folks in the office supply aisle with a very loud rendition of "Play That Funky Music, White Boy." Complete with choreography. Guess the anonymity of the mask and cowl is a bit empowering?

My oldest (at the age of four and a half) explained the appeal thusly: "Superman is a superhero because he was born an alien. Spider Man got lucky and was bitten by a radioactive spider. But Bruce Wayne is a superhero because he is smart and good at business." (Those of you who know Connor understand that he was born a miniature Donald Trump with better hair, so his opinion on the subject? Really, not all that surprising. However, we were quite amused to hear the Sheldon character on "Big Bang Theory" advance the same theory last season. Come to think of it, Connor's got a lot of Sheldon in him as well - but I digress again.)

Mom's also a Batman fan, but for another reason. See, the Justice League Unlimited version of Batman/Bruce Wayne? Totally and completely hot. Broad shoulders, barrel chest, piercing blue eyes, sexy-as-heck voice . . . definitely not the "kind of effeminate/hangs out WAY too much with Robin" Batman from my childhood. Clearly, the JLU people were marketing geniuses: if Mom happens to find the show less grating then - well, Scooby Doo, for one (Freddy and Shaggy - definitely not hot), she's less likely to protest when the kids chunk the DVDs in the basket at Super Target, right? To up the mom-friendly quotient, they've scripted it so that everyone hooks up with everyone - Wonder Woman is crushing on Batman, Green Arrow's got a thing for Black Canary, Green Lantern's involved in a love triangle, etc. It's like "Grey's Anatomy," only McDreamy can shoot laser beams out of his eyes.

Anyway, I've begun putting my Batman obsession to good use with Parnell. When he gets out of line, I throw the spectre of Bruce Wayne in his face. As in: "Bruce Wayne would not break his arm hanging Christmas lights. Bruce would have Alfred hire the whole manor done. Then he'd fly me to Tahiti for the holiday." Hey - it could happen.

Retail Therapy

Things I'm digging in February:

New scents from Bath & Body Works (Blushing Cherry Blossom and Dancing Waters), and old favorites like Enchanted Orchid
Slatkin & Co. Fresh Bamboo candles
Wide-legged denim trousers
My new Nicole Miller sunglasses with amber-tinted lenses (but I don't dig them as much as Lindsay's purple Lacoste shades, which she stubbornly refuses to give me)
My new hot pink Skullcandy earbuds (purchased to replace the old pair that the cat chewed through); they are total noise-cancelling awesomeness, plus they are cute, and none of the males in my family will go near them because they are pink
"Butterfly" and "Make It Mine" off of Jason Mraz's latest CD

The Mardi Gras Tree

I came, I decorated, I was satisfied . . . for awhile. And then I decided I wanted the darned thing out of my house. But it was up for the first three weeks of the year, and it made me feel very subversive. The gaudy tinsel is now filling a trifle bowl on top of a bookcase, various of the gaudy ornaments and the excess beads are filling vases throughout the house, and there it all will stay until the 24th. The mantel is similarly bedecked (don't have a photo of that), and I've tucked Mardi Grad coins and "dollar bills" into picture frames here and there for a little extra "purposeful whimsy." Oh, and the dining room table is rocking a MAH-di GRAH centerpiece, too.

We're taking the grandparents (great-grandmother included) to Ridglea's jazz brunch this weekend, I've got some of my girls coming over on Fat Tuesday night and then we're thinking about venturing to Buttons for more jazz and some late-night crawfish done Ken Hicks style. This is one of the recipes I'm planning on making on Tuesday - it combines two of my all-time favorites, King Cake and bread pudding:

CHEF JOHN FOLSE'S KING ZULU BREAD PUDDING

4½ ounces Baker’s semi-sweet chocolate
4 cups king cake, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 whole eggs
3 egg yolks
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup milk
½ cup sugar

Preheat oven to 325ºF. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together eggs and egg yolks until well blended then set aside. In a large saucepan, combine whipping cream, milk and sugar. Bring mixture to a low simmer then add chocolate. Whisk mixture until chocolate is completely melted. Remove pot from heat and, stirring quickly, add whipped eggs to the cream mixture. Blend thoroughly to keep eggs from scrambling. In a 8" x 8" baking dish, place king cake cubes. Pour chocolate mixture over the cake. Using your fingertips, press cake gently allowing the cream mixture to be absorbed evenly. Cover dish with aluminum foil and allow to soak a minimum of 30 minutes prior to baking. Bake, covered, for approximately 1 hour. Remove foil and bake 20 additional minutes or until top is golden brown. This bread pudding is actually better if chilled in the refrigerator overnight, after baking, then cut into squares and heated in individual portions in the microwave. You may wish to create a chocolate sauce for topping the bread pudding by combining 8 ounces of melted chocolate and 3 ounces of heavy whipping cream. This may be done in a double boiler or microwave. Yield: 6-8 servings.

Happy New Year . . . A Tad Late

Okay, so it's February 18th . . . better late than never, right? Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned: it's been two months since my last post (although I did draft a Valentine's Day shout-out the other day, which I am publishing along with this one; see below).

We had a fabulous Christmas chez McGlinchey, broken arm notwithstanding. If your biggest complaint is that there are too many presents and too many celebrations (Christmas Eve with Parnell's family, Santa and "immediate family" presents at our house Christmas morning, and Christmas dinner with my folks), then you have nothing to complain about. Uncle Alex and Aunt Dahna won the prize for best gifts this year - Connor finally got his big robot (prior to Christmas '08, he'd been forced to make do with the small, non-programmable Robo Sapien and Robo Panda - however did he survive?), and Parker got, among other items, a carton of light-up Tonka vehicles that elicited a very enthusiastic, "I've been waiting for this gift MY ENTIRE LIFE." Our next door neighbors and good friends the Flynns also scored major points with a giant glow-in-the-dark "pinpression" toy (big enough to create a mask of your entire face; cool!), among other creative play toys. (Mom particularly appreciated the "I TRIPLE DOG-DARE YOU" bag, a la "A Christmas Story," in which the bags arrived.)

Parnell and I had as much fun giving gifts this year as receiving them. Always stumped for ideas for his brothers, we decided to send Zan and Patrick bungee jumping, and all of the males over the age of four (sorry, Parker!) received paintball park passes. (My sister-in-law and I plan on tagging along to take pictures and make fun of the crybabies.) I also particularly enjoyed giving Connor his Cub Scout "badge blanket" . . . until the iron-on job that I did on the badges decided not to hold, and they all started coming off. Whoops. Learning to use a sewing machine - it's on my bucket list.

Parnell got his cast off mid-January and is none the worse for wear. And I got my Mardi Gras tree (see the next entry) . . . .

Happy Hearts Day

We celebrated our first anniversary in NYC, and, while there, purchased a Brian Andreas
"Storypeople" print (from the gift shop at the Public Library, I think?) that summed up our relationship to that point. It reads: "I was waiting for such a long time, she said. I thought you forgot. It's hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone." We framed it and hung it by the front door of our apartment, and it occupies a similar place in our home today.

Fast forward twelve years . . . . Last year for Valentine's Day, Parnell bought me a new laptop. (Unromantic, you say? Did I mention that it was red? Did I also mention that I love it, love it, love it?) This year, we agreed to stick with electronics - a new VCR/DVD combo with burner, so all of the various kid VCR tapes that we are reluctant to part with can be burned to disc and stored in a binder, rather than taking up a drawer in our bedroom and one in Connor's. (If you've been married for a long time, and have kids, then you understand - reclaiming two large drawers' worth of space is a very big deal - quite liberating, and maybe even a little sexy?) We've been picking up other little things along the way (Parnell has to have his Valentine's chocolate - not the kind in a heart-shaped box, but a big gift bag filled with Hershey bars, Reese's cups, etc. - and he bought me a beautiful tulip arrangement, knowing that I don't like getting cut flowers as a gift; I'd rather have something living), but we agreed that grand sentimental gestures are no longer strictly necessary.

Then I stopped in Artful Hand after leaving the hair salon yesterday (same shopping center, and the salon was burning this really great candle that they got at AH), and right next to the candles was a Storypeople display. I ended up getting one for each of my "boys," and they are all totally sappy (and one had the indirect effect of making one of my boys feel like crud; see below):

For the husband: "Tied together by stuff too difficult to explain to someone new." (Note: This is not to be interpreted as, "I'm sticking with you because it would be too difficult to break in a replacement." Again, if you've been married awhile, with kids, you should get the message.)

For the 'tween son: "There has never been a day when I have not been proud of you, I said to my son, though some days I'm louder about other stuff so it's easy to miss that."

For the baby: "The first time his laughter unfurled its wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same."

The "proud" one made Parnell wince a bit, because it's kind of been World War III at our house for the last few days. After years of playing short order cook to our very picky oldest child (whose tendencies are beginning to rub off on the youngest ones), Dad drew the line in the sand, and the new rule is "everyone eats the same thing for dinner, no exceptions, and if you don't finish your dinner, no snacks will be offered." (This constitutes a revision of Dad's first, rather hastily - and angrily - conceived rule of "you WILL eat this cheeseburger macaroni, even if it's for breakfast tomorrow morning, or dinner tomorrow night, because I'm not letting you eat ANYTHING ELSE until you eat THIS, and we're NEVER bringing another snack in this house, EVER." After he calmed down, I persuaded him that the first draft of the rule was a bit Draconian, totally unworkable, and likely to get us in trouble with Child Protective Services.) The first night, Parker forced himself to throw up (and by "up," I do mean "up" - it got in his hair somehow?). The second night, Connor reluctantly consumed his small helping of chicken, vegetables and penne pasta in Alfredo sauce, and we all learned that (1) yellow bell peppers are better than red or orange ones and (2) he actually kind of likes zucchini - "scratch that, Mom - I just don't mind it as much as some of the others." (Hey, I'll work with what I can get.)

Meanwhile, Drama Boy threw himself on the floor, moaning, "Do you WANT me to kill myself? Because I WILL kill myself, on the count of 1 - 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 . . . 2 . . . um, 1. Because I really WILL kill myself. I'm not kidding about this."

So Connor finished, and - per a previously negotiated agreement - he and I headed out to Curly's for drive-through fro yo (Mom), a root beer float (Dad) and fruit punch slush (Connor). Dad stayed home with Parker, since Parker had not touched his food. As Connor and I approached the house (after a five-minute round trip - Curly's is blocks away), we saw Dad's car pulling out - he rolled down the window and announced, "We're going to Curly's - see you in a minute." Apparently, seeing big brother get a reward was all it took. Parker consumed his now-cold dinner in seconds flat (and, after the first bite, said "Oh - this is actually really good").

Long story short - we haven't won the food fight, but we're on the attack, and gaining positive ground.

WELCOME TO OUR (VIRTUAL) WORLD!

A slide show of the McGlincheys' year in pictures is in the right margin, and there are a number of other slide shows attached to various posts. (Holiday photos accompany the "Christmas in Cowtown" post - I didn't intend to blog between now and then, but Parnell's broken arm merited a mention!). If this is your first visit to the site, the slide shows link to Picasa Web albums. If you double click on a slide show, it will take you to Picasa, where you can view the slides full-sized and with captions by clicking the "Slideshow" tab. If you see a photo that you want to print, the Picasa site will permit you to download to a variety of print sources (Shutterfly, Walgreens, etc.).

Ho, ho . . . ohhhhhh

So I had a few friends over for "rappin' and [gift] wrappin'" last night - margaritas and Mexican munchies, nothing fancy - and Parnell offered to take the kids to Movie Tavern for dinner and an animated film for the duration of the party. Before he left, I asked him to clean up the front porch (move some potted plants and an assemblage of the boys' sporting goods to the backyard, etc.). Somehow, this was interpreted as "borrow an extension ladder and hang Christmas garland in a huge hurry, without a spotter" - FORESHADOWING ALERT #1. (It's been rainy and cold for days - hardly outdoor decorating weather - and the big trees in the front yard just saw fit to dump their leaves, which were clumped in wet, SLIPPERY piles everywhere - FORESHADOWING ALERT #2.) I happened to be walking through the living room just in time to hear what can best be described as "whoosh, THUD, ohhhhhh." I've been advised that "Parnell fell off of a ladder" is an incorrect summary of what occurred, because the bottom of the ladder slipped backwards and Parnell simply went down with it. Fortunately, he landed ON the ladder - had the ladder not been between him and the sidewalk, he would have landed face down, the front steps probably would have hit him mid-throat, and you'd be receiving notice of funeral arrangements in lieu of a Christmas card (or a donation solicitation from the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation). Instead, he broke his left arm above the wrist and did a number on a couple of ribs.

Considering what could have happened, it's been pretty easy for us to take the whole thing in stride (well, now that we've moved beyond the, "What in HADES were you thinking?" lecture - or series of lectures, it's hard to say - I took a few breaths here and there, but the sum total of the lecturing/filibuster went on for roughly eighteen hours, with assists from my mom, his mom, various women friends, neighbors and co-workers, the kids' teachers, and the the all-female staff of our orthopedic surgeon's office). Who knew that Vicodin only costs $4.71? And, after several years of threatening to decorate a "Mardi Gras tree" like the ones that you see in the windows of the homes around the Bishop's Palace in Galveston, it looks like I'll have my opportunity - the cast will be with us until mid-January, and there's no way I'm wrangling our behemoth of a tree out to the carriage house, so why not throw some beads on it?

Please refrain from teasing the poor guy - trust me, that ground has been covered. Just forward the name of a good Christmas light hanger before December '09 rolls around . . . .

Holiday Fun on the Web

I couldn't resist circulating this link before last week's tacky sweater party:

http://weloveholidaysweaters.wehatesheep.com/

Judging by the number of virtual sweaters that made it into my inbox that afternoon, I'd say that my e-mail was well-received. Sarah's Festivus "Vest-ivus" was hard to beat. Speaking of my husband's favorite winter holiday, for those in the market for a good Festivus pole, check out:

http://www.festivuspoles.com/pages/Festivuspoles.htm

For my money, nothing says "quality Festivus pole" like extruded aluminum. After airing your grievances and/or participating in the feats of strength, you no doubt will want to indulge in a refreshing adult beverage:

https://www.festivuswine.com/order/

For more traditional celebrations, www.swoozies.com has terribly cute partyware. I couldn't resist these tumblers (which I filled with some truly potent Bacardi Rum Balls for a cookie exchange). Click on the photo for a close-up.

Technology

As someone who has always scrapbooked by hand and sent (paper) cards and handwritten notes, I am by turns surprised, amused and dismayed by how technologically dependent I have become. The extent of my integration into the tech world has been particularly apparent this holiday season. This evening found me simultaneously uploading photos of the kids to Picasa, updating a spreadsheet of Christmas card addresses and burning my iTunes Christmas mix to CDs as favors for an upcoming holiday party. While I still insist on sending out paper Christmas cards (old habits die hard), I've begrudgingly become a fan of the Evite (both giving and receiving them), and once I permitted myself to take that first camera phone photo of a book title that interested me at Barnes & Noble (didn't have a pen and wasn't going to remember it otherwise), the floodgates opened and I soon had a whole jpeg Christmas list going for me. I was relieved when I had to borrow Parnell's phone one night at dinner (I say "had to," but in all honesty I think I used it to access the Internet, IMDB specifically, to settle an argument about an actor in a movie - further proof of my tech dependency, but, seriously, HOW USEFUL is IMDB? The days of walking around racking your brain trying to remember the name of "that other guy in Stripes and Ghostbusters" are long behind us!) and discovered that he had a slew of photos of books, toys for the kids, etc., on his phone as well.

The moment that I knew that I was developing a serious problem? When I thought to write down some ideas about what to wear to various holiday parties (which accessories would go with what, etc.) and just decided to take pictures of complete ensembles instead. Cleverness, or the height of laziness? You decide . . . and text me your response.

Christmas in Cowtown

December often finds Dad running a zone defense while Mom exchanges a variety of things with her girlfriends - cookies, ornaments, wacky kitchen gifts, etc. Dad prefers the cookie exchanges for obvious reasons, although Mom does think that the banana slicer from this year's kitchen gift exchange will prove useful (and very empowering for young Parker). This year, we did find some time for man-to-man coverage - Parnell and Connor attended the Cub Scout pancake breakfast and space derby while Mom and Parker watched "The Polar Express" in their PJ's at the Museum of Science and History. (The BIG development - Parker discovered hot chocolate, courtesy of the Starbucks baristas who were working the museum event. And he LOVED it . . . . "Mom, now we can go to Starbucks, and you can have coffee, and I can have THIS STUFF!") We also have had the opportunity for some major family fun, some of it structured and some of it spontaneous (microwave s'mores parties!). However, the kids will no doubt remember this holiday season as the one in which the Space Shuttle came to town. Fortunately for them, Parnell's mom retains privileges at the Joint Reserve Base, so on 12/11 Parnell and Grandmother McGlinchey took both kids out of school, scored grandstand seats on the tarmac and watched the shuttle take off for Florida on the back of its jet. They got really, REALLY close, and needless to say Dad (and Grandmother) scored serious cool points.

For Mom, this season is memorable because it's the first time that Parker really "gets" the holiday. And he's very committed to it . . . . Cross Buddy the Elf with Mini Me, and you have our young Parker James. "Mom - I love chocolate. Chocolate is my FAVORITE! Candy canes are my FAVORITE!" (These outbursts of unbridled enthusiasm usually elicit the same response from cynical big brother Connor - "Parker, you're a cotton-headed ninny muggins." Yes, we are an Elf-obsessed family.) Parker is also hard at work on his present-opening technique: "It's like opening a ketchup package from McDonald's. PEENCH [pinch], PEENCH, TEAR!" It's a tradition in our family to wrap the kids' old Christmas books, which are opened, advent calendar-style, and read before bed, so he has had some good practice sessions.

Connor is looking forward to a two-week break from school, and I'm sure that after the third-grade field trip to see the Nutcracker on the 19th, the teachers will be ready for a break as well. Connor has made it through the Nutcracker 1 1/4 times. At age 5, he made it to "Waltz of the Snowflakes," then tugged on Mom's sleeve, inquired as to when it would be "halftime," and requested that we walk across the street to Barnes and Noble for refreshments (the concessions at Bass Hall having been deemed unacceptable - all beverages, no cookies). Needless to say, we never returned. The next year, family friends were among the performers, and the fascination of seeing Kendall, Reagan and their parents on stage held his attention for awhile, but we were in the lobby midway through the second act. Perhaps the third time will be the charm.

One of our favorite holiday traditions is "angel shopping." Our attention this year has been focused on two charities, Alliance for Children and the First Street Mission. Connor was charged with selecting gifts for several nine year-old boys, and Parker helped select four year-old-appropriate toys and clothes. We also stocked up on cold weather gear for the Mission's mitten tree. Our kids aren't saints, to be sure - each tends to come down with a serious case of the "gimmes" at this time of year - but we try to mitigate the commercialism of the holiday by involving them in charitable giving whenever possible. The last couple of years, we have made end-of-the-year donations in the names of various family, friends and coworkers, and the kids have helped match the honorees with appropriate donees. Not surprisingly, they tend to gravitate towards the MD Anderson Children's Art Project, ASPCA, Heifer International and other kid-friendly organizations, but this year I suspect that we may see a broader focus: as a participant in our church's summer mission camp, Connor had the opportunity to volunteer at the First Street Mission, tour one of the local night shelters and purchase food and clothes on a budget approximating what is given to those on government assistance, so his frame of reference has grown beyond "buying shares in animals is fun."

Our love to friends and family, and much health and happiness to everyone in 2009 . . . .

The Pro Bono Attorney Visual Design Team Strikes Again

For the Christmas open house at Junior Woman's Club, each department was asked to decorate a tree, mantel or table in the style of a particular artist or art movement. I remembered seeing an Asian-themed tree in Southern Living (the gold-accented tree with the kites and lanterns), and I thought that it might be fun to try to adapt that concept to a tree featuring woodcuts by Hokusai and Hiroshige (Hokusai's "The Great Wave off Kanagawa" is featured here). So I set to work tying tulle bows to art cards and making paper lanterns and origami boats (the only origami that I know, and fortunately thematically appropriate!). Garden Ridge had some red lantern ornaments, which was also fortunate, because the only unused lights that Parnell could find in the carriage house (I was trying to do this on the cheap) were red. On the way out of the house, I grabbed some Ginger jar-shaped table decorations left over from another party and a few of the Kokeshi dolls that my dad sent to me from Asia when I was a little girl. Lindsay helped me put it all together, and - considering that the tree itself was awfully threadbare - I think it turned out pretty well. We also decorated a console table on behalf of Culinary Arts - the theme was "Food in Art, and the Art of Food" (because "Arranging Random Culinary-Related Things from Lindsay's and Kathryn's Houses in a Vaguely Artistic Way, with Ribbon Candy Purchased from Walgreens in the Middle of the Night as Filler" was a little too wordy). I do think it came out cute, all things considered (sort of Bistro Louise-ish, for those of you Cowtown residents?).

We Gather Together . . . .

Thought that I would share some photos from Thanksgiving . . . .

Maturity

I have become a grown-up. Accountants and investment advisors send me holiday cards. I buy wine by the case. And I am learning (slowly!) to prioritize. I initially planned on having (and paid the registration fee for) booths at both the JWC opening party and the JWC Christmas open house, scheduled for this weekend. I waffled back and forth as to whether to paint a bunch of new inventory before this weekend or just display samples and take special orders. Then, when I sat down with my calendar and began to assemble a December to-do list, reality - or, rather, realities - began to set in:

(1) We have seven holiday events scheduled in a nine-day span (and others beyond those, but that is the "glut"). I am committed to arrive at five of these "glut" events with food in hand (four dozen spinach balls on Sunday, cookie exchange cookies on Monday, a salad on Thursday, etc.).

(2) I am (blessedly, in a recession) slammed at my real job.

(3) The JWC Christmas open house is one of only a few "family" events at Margaret Meacham Hall, and my children look forward to accompanying Mom on these days. Manning a bazaar booth cuts into my ability to keep them from breaking things/keep them from driving their dad crazy/cat-herd as the photog tries to snap their picture with Santa.

(4) Our church has scheduled an "old fashioned Christmas," featuring hayrides through downtown, that begins immediately after the JWC event, making booth packdown an issue.

(5) The last time I tried to juggle retail commerce, "catering," work, friend and family obligations under similar circumstances, I developed a middle ear infection that almost cost me an eardrum, did cause me to develop severe, incapacitating vertigo, and (as a consequence of steroid overload leading to "steroid psychosis") ultimately caused me to go 'round the bend for a very scary 48-hour period (lesson learned: manic = FUN, depressive = not so much).

So . . . earlier this week (after spending most of my four-day Thanksgiving weekend dealing with head cold/asthma issues), I advised my spouse that I would not be setting up a booth, intended to sell my existing inventory at a discount and would only take a handful of "friend" special orders. He looked, by turns, shocked, overjoyed and puzzled as to the identity of the pod person who was occupying his wife's body. Then he hugged me.

Sister-girlfriends (you know who you are), if you are stumped for friend or teacher gifts, shoot me an e-mail - I have Christmas and girl-power canvases in stock, and I am planning on taking a limited number of canvas and teacher clipboard orders (great for the bus-and-carpool line). Those of you who already placed special orders, you are in the queue!

Disturbing Development

So apparently at some point during the Texas Tech/OU game, Parnell advised our youngest that he should be cheering for OU (not a common, everyday thing in our household, but BCS algorithms necessitated that a deal be made with the devil). He reminded Parker that Parker's best friend comes from a hardcore "Boomer Sooner" family, and that factoid seems to have lodged in Parker's brain, because the next thing that I know, Parker comes in and informs me, "My new favorite team is the Sooners. All of my friends are Sooners! I LOVE the Sooners. GO SOONERS!" As I hastily attempted to explain (as gently as possible) the error in his ways, Parnell passed by and whispered, "If OU beats OSU next week, the 'Horns are in a three-way tie and may advance to the conference championship. Let him love the Sooners for another week."

Politics and college football make for strange bedfellows . . . .

UPDATE: We was robbed! This item (which is circulating around the Internet) at least put smiles on our faces:

BCS DECLARES GERMANY WINNER OF WORLD WAR II
USA Ranked 4th

After determining the Big 12 championship game participants, the BCS computers were put to work on other major contests, and today the BCS declared Germany to be the winner of World War II.

"Germany put together an incredible number of victories beginning with the annexation of Austria and the Sudetenland and continuing into conference play with defeats of Poland,France, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Belgium and the Netherlands. Their only home losses came against the USA and Russia; however, considering their entire body of work - including an incredibly tough Strength of Schedule (SOS)- our computers deemed them worthy of the #1 ranking."

Questioned about the #4 ranking of the United States, the BCS commissioner stated: "The US only had two major victories - Japan and Germany. The computer models, unlike humans, aren't influenced by head-to-head contests - they consider each contest to be only a single, equally-weighted event."

German Chancellor Adolph Hitler said, "Yes, we lost to the US; but we defeated #2 France in only six weeks." Herr Hitler has been criticized for seeking dramatic victories to earn "style points" to enhance Germany's rankings. Hitler protested, "Our contest with Poland was in doubt until the final day, and the conditions in Norway were incredibly challenging and demanded the application of additional forces."

The French ranking has also come under scrutiny. The BCS commented, "France had a single loss against Germany and following a preseason #1 ranking, they only fell to #2."

Japan was ranked #3 with victories including Manchuria, Borneo and the Philippines. United States coach Harry Truman was criticized for bad taste for scheduling a "politicking" during the halftime of the Germans' bombing of Great Britian. A US fan also made the point that "the Germans got too many style points for their sexy offense, which continues to obliterate weaker opponents and show off their might after the battle is won. But what about defense?"

Fun Gift Idea

Several retailers market ribbon-threadable, write-on plates, but The Write Plate (www.thewriteplate.com) gets props for putting a spin on the concept and helping a charity in the process. They sell "toppers" (painted cutouts - some wood, others ceramic) that you can attach to your plate with putty that you provide, so that you can customize your plate for a holiday or other occasion. I purchased the football at Christmas in Cowtown (the Junior League of Fort Worth's annual gift bazaar), and I have my eye on the Thanksgiving turkey, the bunny, the chocolate cupcake and the longhorn (hook 'em!). The toppers are made by residents of the Brookwood Community, a "live/work" facility for adults with functional disabilities. Back in the day, the Brookwood Community had a store front in the Houston Galleria, and I bought a lot of gift items there - always very good quality and quite unique.

You can also purchase writeable napkin rings and place card holders, packages of seasonal holiday ribbon and other ribbon trim (camo, toile, vintage prints, and lots of polka dots). My plate actually came from Southern Living at Home, but the ribbon from The Write Plate is the perfect width, and of course the toppers will stick to just about anything, since they adhere with putty.