The voyage to Israel’s pretty much up in the air right now, as is much of life, so I feel ok about it. I once had a shirt that said “Reading is sexy;” if I still had it I would change “Reading” to “Ambiguity.” New York is still on for tomorrow, so life is not so injurious.
Monthly Archives: December 2008
Today I will present awards for the best journalism of the year. Third prize goes to Martha Stewart, whose clean, astute writings on her blog are as comforting as a powder blue kitchen decorated with jeweled woodland birds. Second prize will be sent to Kinky Friedman for his open letter to Barack Obama in the current edition of Texas Monthly, which not only adroitly identifies the commonalities between Texas Jews and our president-elect but makes perfect use of the signature “Yours in Christ.” The first prize award this year is a bit unorthodox. It is not going to a journalist, but an average citizen who exercised his First Amendment rights through new media venues. In fact, he many not even be real. Nevertheless, first prize goes to the fake Levi Johnston for his culturally perspicacious piece “WHAT THE FUCK IS UP AMERICA???” on somethingawful.com (NSFW!!). Out of everything I’ve read this year, Fake Johnston’s piece holds the most truth — and hope that any below-average schmo can be a literary trailblazer. It’s about being true to yourself.
My UT newsfeed is going crazy with Christmas miracles. LBJ School Dean Jim Steinberg will maybe probably be named Obama’s deputy secy of state tomorrow. Steinberg intrigues me — he’s been described as intense, and while he has a certain cadre of personnel surrounding him and drumming up his importance (they conned The Daily Texan out of a sit-down with Madeleine Albright in October), he’s one of the most mild-mannered T-sippers I’ve met at the University.
Meanwhile, the UT system’s regents have nominated this guy as the sole candidate to fill the shoes Mark Yudof left behind in July. A doctor … strange … I had noticed that Austin was really starting to smell like a medical school … no wonder it’s been raining rubbing alcohol … If I were a conspiracy theorist, I would hypothesize that the regents orchestrated Hurricane Ike to destroy the medical school in Galveston so they could move it to Austin. Too soon? Eh, I’m just shooting ducks in the night. Good thing there will be a bunch of doctors nearby soon. I give it five years.
In any case, Cigarroa’s a lot better than his contender, Perry-pal and AT&T Western Regional President John Montford. Under Montford’s reign, all we would have gotten was another Executive Education Center. Crabcakes for everyone!
If only there was a widget to physically express how cold it is in Chicago right now, like a little hole that appears onscreen and blows air at you. Until that technology is developed, this is the best I can do:
Keep in mind this is my inside outfit. According to my grandmother’s doctor from the 1950s, people stay in Illinois because they like the climactic challenge, the vigor that subzero air inspires. Volatile temperatures certainly keep life exciting, if not painful for select appendages. Texas is Snooze City in comparison (except for this!). Up — my fingers are starting to stiffen. GOtta get the mittens back on. No more typing tonight. Until tomorrow.
Between Eliot Spitzer, Blaggy and Barry Obama, it’s been a VERY good year. Thank you Santa.
When will the fog lift? It’s so intense today that the UT regents’ meeting was delayed four hours. According to the Austin American-Statesman, “Regent Janiece Longoria delivered this one-liner as [Regent Robert, the 49th richest American] Rowling walked into the regents’ board room at Ashbel Smith Hall in downtown Austin: ‘Bob, I waited for you longer than I waited for my husband.’” Ah, ha. Zing! You’re not a true token lady regent until you land a ring on your finger. Bless the Republican establishment.
Forgive me for the business talk! The Daily Texan is on break for a month, so we’re all left with little old leahfinnegan.com. It’s gonna be fun, especially since I’ve been sleeping more than eight hours per night. A few years ago I started taking the Bill Clinton approach to sleeping, arranging four to five hours and waking before the sun. It keeps your heart on edge. But with it being my last winter break and all, I’ve let go — and it’s great. I’m positively glowing.
Today is my first Sunday off since Aug. 17. No better time than now to get started on my “life”work, which largely includes emotionally preparing myself for a month of concentrated travel. First I will go to Chicago. That will be easy; I will watch PBS documentaries, walk to the library to read Redbook and eat corn bran in bed. Then I will go to New York. That will be fun as it tends to be. Then I will go to Israel. This is the hard part. How does one emotionally prepare him or herself for Israel? Etrog juice? Kosher chicken? I have never been to the Middle East before. Have the Dead Sea Scrolls been scanned yet? I need to do more research.
Riff of the day ! do it.
I wake up at 7:51 when the coffeepot goes off. I am trying a new breakfast of milky oatmeal and an unorganic banana. I like it but the salt to cinnamon ratio in the oatmeal is difficult to perfect. I take my breakfast in front of Page Six. This is a treat. Then I read my three papers and seven blogs. Sometimes I take a shower. Then I ride my bike to work.