I blame exhaustion for missing this rather (personal) big deal. We were in the middle of our annual housesitting gig and Austin’s climate is blazing…drains the life out of you pretty easily.
The trial run for my “radio station” began as an experiment at work, then I decided to apply QTSS at home. Jeremy helped me install a larger hard drive into the iMac I owned then. I transferred over the 2000-plus songs I had started from and away it went. There’s been interruptions but it manages to play 15 songs/hour (commercial radio today is less than 10).
It’s a shame Apple bailed on this rather flawless technology after 10.6. You can still install it separately on 10.7 and 10.8 as long as the Server element isn’t present. I did find a solution if Server exists, you just convert a line in the installer script into a comment. All administration is done through a Web browser which is how it was best done from its beginning.
Seven new songs are added to KMAG’s Top 35 about every week (sometimes every 6-14 days) along with anything else I can purchase. This puts the playlist at 10,000-plus songs. Should I choose to run it from beginning to end, it would take almost 30 days to complete.
Why all the fuss? Music has been a big part of my life since I was 13 going on 14. I’ve been guilty of making mix tapes to share, staying awake at awful hours to be on college radio and a terrible internship and seeing more concerts per year than the national average. Even my wife Somara says it’s great to turn on the stereo and there’s our personal station running.
I miss Matt Groening’s annual list of forbidden words he used to illustrate in his Life in Hell strip. I wish it came with a license for me to slap those people guilty of such verbal offenses. When it comes to language, I find my fellow Americans to be unimaginable speakers. My vocabulary isn’t spectacular but I’m trying harder to follow the rules. I would even back an English Academy as per the French and Spanish organizations. It’s not about snobbery, it’s about preserving the language so our descendants can make out what we were writing/saying because English didn’t drift into the language of Idiocracy…an amalgamation of swearing, grunts, corporate buzzwords and lame catchphrases.
The Gawker people did make a nice list of things they hope come to an end in 2013. I only disagree about the T-shirt matter, economics will kill off the weaker companies. As for the Apple sticker on one’s car, we work for Apple and it used to be mandatory so security knew which vehicles should be in the crowded lot. If the sticker has become a star-bellied sneetch thing, security might want to go with something more unique. I’m in complete agreement over those disgusting toe shoes. I get it, you want to walk around barefoot like a Flintstone or a Hillbilly yet flip flops in public aren’t enough! Sorry, I’ve had to deal with co-workers who stroll around barefoot as if we’re in their house. How I wish Richard Jeni were alive, he had great rebuttals.
What do you think should be added to the list? My additions are many but Gawker nailed my immediate peeves. I would like to throw in billboards of churches trying to be cool. There are several godbarns around Austin who just aren’t fooling anybody.
Nothing says Christmas like a Quentin Tarantino movie filled with cursing, racial slurs and splatter. I think Jackie Brown was the last time he had the same opening date, usually his stuff appears in the Fall and Spring during the slow periods. To those who object to Unchained, you know you don’t have to go and if you did, what the hell did you expect given Tarantino’s track record? Idiots.
I was a bit more on the fence with my recommendation, probably giving it an asterisk as I did with The Hobbit; it appeals to a core audience I’m a member of while the general public not so much. Then I caught a delayed interview NPR had with him; delayed due to the latest school shoot ’em up. I’m ambivalent about QT but he nailed the interviewer back with his response of “Is there such a thing as a right person or a wrong person?” when it comes to making a controversial movie. The market allegedly decides which films succeed or fail, with the exception of Atlas Shrugged getting a part two despite dismal results; the rules don’t seem to apply to the true believers.
On to the story…
Thank you Hollywood for giving away the entire plot via the trailer. I still went to see how it would be executed and there wasn’t much else to see on Christmas Day.
My immediate observations:
Jamie Foxx is the anti-Will Smith. Jamie gets the better, grittier roles. Will does the wider-appeal crap and it tends to be boring. If I never see another Will Smith starring vehicle, I’m good.
Unchained may be inspired by the old Django Westerns from the Sixties but I think QT cribbed the premise from The Skin Game starring James Garner and Lou Gossett Jr.
QT needs to stop acting in his films (or anybody else’s). Unchained ran too long like all past stuff and his weak performance almost brought the story to a screeching halt.
There were some laughs from the audience, especially during Samuel L. Jackson’s character. I found myself giggling at a couple things uncomfortably yet I’m OK with it, I’m a Yankee and I know my ancestors didn’t own slaves; half didn’t come to America until after the Civil War. A good movie entertains. A great movie challenges the audience. Does Unchained do the latter? I think it lies in between since the violence angle was covered by The Wild Bunch, the race part goes to Roots and QT’s cursing is par for the course.
Alamo Extras: Trailers for Westerns and Action films QT took inspiration from, namely a couple Django flicks; a weird movie about slavery starring Dionne Warwick and Ossie Davis; QT in a short fighting Japanese gunslingers over an egg.
There was no celebration at Chez Maggi this year. Thanks to our employer’s and clientele’s nature, Somara had to work through the week (we did have Sunday off together). I as well but unlike several earlier days in which the only work I did was through correspondence, I did have to speak with a customer who is notoriously unpleasant. Rule number one for customers, cursing and threats don’t get you anywhere. The day was rather lame anyhow plus we were too exhausted to even take in the party at Pinballz. If Somara is too tired, I don’t have a ride since the fuzz pull over everybody with their rigged-for-failure tests. I don’t drink while intoxicated yet I have been accused once thanks to bloodshot eyes; the night the deaf dude hit my car from behind.
I recall too well 25 years ago how much cops hate people who can outwit them, given this court ruling, it’s small wonder the defense attorneys I know gave up working for the state; the cops are often the worst, dumbest witnesses. The lower IQs probably explain why there are continuous corruption probes.
Back to New Year’s 2012/2013…
We just drove home, grabbed some takeout and settled in. The dumbass neighbors woke everybody around midnight as they set off their larger arsenal of fireworks. They had been launching an intermittent bottlerocket all evening. I figure it’s something learned from the Viet Cong in their psychological war against Whiteys.
I’m hoping 2013 gets rolling out to be a better year than 2012. The election alone made that year a wash. Not seeing my anxiety doctor in the last two months has really upped my irritation with work in general; Somara’s health issues didn’t help.
I feel 2013 is starting on the right foot as per my new monthly header, the Alamo’s tribute to Kurt Russell’s 50 years in film (and TV). We scored our tickets last week. It will be a five-movie marathon with a couple surprise guests. Which movies? No idea. They will be picked at random. Kurt being a surprise guest would be awesome especially when Alamo frequently brings in “experts” to lecture (aka some dickhead with a Web site). Ever since I missed out on seeing Christopher Lloyd with Alamo’s first-ever Back to the Future marathon, I try to not miss out.
Compared to other New Year’s Days, 2013 is better than the numerous awful ones I can remember vividly: 1991, 1993 and 1994’s “now what?” mood; 1998’s “I gotta’ get out of North Carolina or I’ll kill myself.”
Good luck to you all. Now I need to dig out some stuff, ponder some resolutions and get cracking on my weight again. Thanks to the festivities, my BMI returned to 30, Obesity remained my bodily bookends! Next year at this time, I should be around or under 200!
Welcome to another series of stories which missed their deadline by a lot. I had a few queued up well before the server took a dump. My plan was to eek them out as a new successor feature to the concluded Six Days of Christmas. Their timeliness was long gone but I still thought they were worth bringing up. I’m not going to put them in The Lost Tales, I am going to put them in the Whoops or Overlooked. They won’t be retrofitted in time neither. Expect the ones I really want to discuss to get pushed through before January concludes.
First up, the finale to my vacation in Chicago at Nelson’s house.
I double checked the stuff I covered then procrastinated too much regarding the third part before I flew home…Nelson and me visiting our alma mater Milwaukee/Marquette University. I think the trip was in jeopardy since Tammy couldn’t watch all four children at once, I don’t blame her and I was willing to have Nicolas tag along, hoping he wouldn’t be too bored. Some kind of compromise was achieved so it was just us two.
The drive was amazingly quick. Chicago traffic is usually dense even when it isn’t rush hour. Maybe the Internet lied to me? We arrived by lunch time. Damn it was cold, that part of Milwaukee never changed. Nelson came up from downtown as we cruised north on Wisconsin Avenue to take in Marquette’s main drag (to borrow an Austin-UT term).
Nelson parked the car near Schroeder Hall and we hoofed it in the freezing climate. How did I manage this 25 years ago? I guess I was made of sterner stuff after a Winter in North Dakota. I was prepared though. I dress in layers these days plus I had those new Chucks hybrids for the cold. Nothing can ever prevent the awful wind downtown Milwaukee generates. “It’s warmer by the lake,” is a myth and prank Milwaukeeans like to pull.
I tried to get a peek inside my college’s main building, Johnston. No luck, all locked up. I guess they knew I was coming. I was curious to see what innovations the university was making since print journalism is dying and broadcasting isn’t looking much better.
This is where the core hours of my degree were earned. I have my hat off in deference to the late Dr. Grams who passed on this Spring.
Nelson’s college building was next, Stratton. I spent a good chunk of 1990 and early 1991 in there. His department’s computer lab had easier access to Macintoshes! We checked out the Hegarty Art Museum to get out of the cold for a while. My first time in there, never bothered while attending. I didn’t appreciate the finer, high-brow things and was more obsessed over other crap.
Onward to our equivalent of the Quad. This big open space amongst the library and several departmental buildings, namely Lalumeire Hall, home to the foreign languages section and Jose’s part-time gig. Below is a mediocre attempt at a 360 VR picture I took with my iPhone. I’m somewhere near what I thought was the center. The speck in red is Nelson walking toward me.
Click on this to see a bigger version
Another bout of avoiding the cold by shopping in the Student Union, it was the only thing truly open at Marquette. No real hockey jerseys, mostly all the fuss over the basketball team and this sport is the school’s claim to fame. I got Jose a golf shirt to compensate for nothing at Christmas. A neutral T-shirt for me, I’m not very patriotic after taking a class with three douchebag “star” players.
A final leg in the elements to get pictures of the environment to show Somara and other Austinites. Prove I wasn’t making this up, there are landmarks to go with my anecdotes.
My estimate on where rooms 1020 and 1019 would be in red
Right outside the Student Union’s west end is McCorkmick Hall. A horrible place to live: community bathrooms (the shower deuce incident, ugh), bunk beds, no AC/often cold, little privacy…yet lifelong friendships and experiences were made. Room 1020 was where I lived after the first semester. Paul was next door in 1019. From both of those windows, we and our floormates launched numerous projectiles. I guess the experts were right. People do imitate what they see on TV, especially when it was David Letterman’s schtick! There were several pro Walker posters so I wanted to throw crap up at the windows for a change of pace. Nelson lived in the Y (now East Hall), he missed out.
I had a great view of Wells Avenue from this window
Across from the Student Union’s north side was my favorite apartment. The dude who owned the Ardmore ran this joint. I loved the place because I knew the odds of it being burglarized were extremely low. I should’ve discovered it long before I endured the nonsense I experienced with Strack and this filthy sublet I panicked into. The larger window I highlighted has a great story involving an ex-girlfriend you’ll have to ask me about, I don’t want to post it for the world to discover. That apartment provided great memories while I was underemployed, trying to keep my brain busy in early 1991. I hope the following residents enjoyed it as much as I did.
Our favorite after-bar restaurant, especially on cold nights
Nelson wanted to have lunch at Major Goolsby’s downtown but I had to check out Real Chili. Make sure it was mostly intact, take in the aroma and retrace the events of a painful evening 20 years earlier, another by-request story, the Marquette clique knows it very well and still laugh until they nearly suffocate. I have a thing for anniversaries. The food was always the main draw for all of us. Even Helen liked it and she was never big on the unhealthy fare Milwaukee is notorious for.
Here's the floor where Phil's fists of death failed, sorry, the floor where he remembered no jury would acquit him
Here's the hallway to the bathroom where I then drank a tallboy of whoop-ass while Phil was on the floor.
Now we were pretty darned hungry. We hopped into Nelson’s car only to have a ticket from Milwaukee’s finest on it. Leave it to MPD to fine us for being a little late while they failed to arrest Dahmer the one day he offered himself up on a silver platter. Downtown to Major Goolsby’s. Nelson is fond of the place. I thought it was decent due to it being next door to my former job in the SCLM, The Milwaukee Sentinel.
These were the doors I used to go through when I worked here
For those who’ve never been to Milwaukee, Major Goolsby’s isn’t a must-eat/see destination. The place is nice, the food is above average and it carries some items that are standard Milwaukee fare (bratwurst, aka brats but pronounced “BRAHTS”). I just wouldn’t hold my breath over Major G’s becoming a chain or some overhyped In-n-Out Burger unless it has a role in The Big Lebowski II. Having lived near Marquette for five years, I did know what to order. Ditto for Nelson.
Our waitress was awesome, namely for her ability to score a pair of politically incorrect Marquette shirts. I have no beef with the American Indians, they definitely got the shaft numerous times yet I don’t think nor feel having them as team mascots is insulting, it’s not the plan. When people act out moronic gestures to taunt the American Indians, as I’ve seen in North Dakota (whooping namely); extremely rude and uncool. However, a bunch of spineless pusses at Marquette capitulated on the name and mascot. With the latter, fine. The American Indians feel it’s demeaning, nevermind the Seminoles, Washington Redskins or the University of Northern Colorado. I suspect Father Wannamakeabuck couldn’t find the right people to write a check to. I have yet to hear the Irish complaining over this rather negative stereotype, other than my maternal grandmother; I think she would be too thrilled over the university’s number one BCS football standing to care.
Marquette caving in over the name is what rankles me. Warriors. It’s rather generic. It can sound belligerent in some contexts, not others: samurai warrior, a mediocre NBA franchise shares this, the Walter Hill movie, a hit song by Scandal, etc. I’m not married to it. Hell, I attended two Catholic high schools with more controversial names: Strake Jesuit Crusaders (in the Eighties no one cared, today it’s considered a Western jihadist); Chartard Trojans (given the Catholic Church’s stance on birth control, this is hilarious). My alma mater could’ve ditched the American Indian, got a new look, say a medieval knight, kept the name, moved on. Instead the powers that be picked a lame-o name which has no history amongst the generations of students, the Golden Eagles which it remains to this day after wasting another $500,000-plus over the Gold debacle in recent years.
Thus, the shirt below is a way of giving the Marquette administration a virtual, symbolic middle finger. I scored one for Helen.
Front of the shirt. No idea which nation this is. It resembles Iroquois but the Winnebago lived in Milwaukee before Western settlements.
Marquette never did tell me if they liked my suggestion for Inquisitors to honor Torquemada…ironically. Should've gone with McCarthyites.
Overjoyed with my shirt acquisitions, I accidentally stiffed our waitress on a tip. I had the receipt with her name and Goolsby’s address. I mailed the nice lady a check the following week and a photocopy of the receipt apologizing; she replied with a thank-you card!
Back to Chicago we a-went! We tried to have a brief roundezvous to see my gaming sensei Lester. No dice. Couldn’t get the schedules to align. Next time I promise.
The succinct trip down numerous memory lanes was nice, especially with 2011 being the 25th anniversary of arriving and 20th for moving away. Would I ever go back? I owe Somara a tour and it’s great to visit. I could never live there. Austin’s milder Winters are the key factor. After 1993, I vowed to never reside in a cold climate again. Visits are allowed.
After my team’s victory over the first-place Charlotte Checkers (3-1), the Cedar Park Center opened the rink (or technically, the sheet) to the public…after signing a waiver. Good move on their part, I fell down which I haven’t done in over a year. I’m good, only my pride was hurt. My elbows remain bruised but I’ll get over it with some commercial-level painkillers.
The open skate was another opportunity to test out my new iPod Touch’s camera. Its panaroma ability is nice yet I wanted to go for the whole 360 (as shown yesterday with Cheapo Records). I did achieve this without falling on my ass. If you click on the picture above, it opens to show the whole thing in a larger format.
What I call my lucky seat because I caught a puck there
Then I cautiously skated over to the corner where our season-ticket seats reside. I want to emphasize the adverb cautiously thanks to idiotic teenagers not wearing skates, running around like dicks. I was a moron as a teenager too, I just knew I was accident prone so I usually avoided stunts that could give me a concussion. Too bad I didn’t succeed every time.
It was good exercise, casually skating around. I need to hit Northcross more often and replace one skate’s laces due to the aglet fraying. Maybe buying a helmet is the next wise step to keeping my aging brains intact.
Thanks to the outpouring of support, Cheapo’s owner re-opened the store this Friday and Saturday. Sunday was off limits because he wants to watch the Cowboys try to beat the Redskins for a wild card bid. I was so happy he did this. I totally spaced on Christmas Eve and I wanted to thank Jason for all the treasures I found. Believe me, if you looked hard enough, Cheapo was the best bet to find out-of-print stuff.
I also wanted to go through the week’s worth of new arrivals, hear the “clack, clack, clack” as my fingers skimmed over the security cases while my brain tried to keep pace, looking for an amazing discovery. Everything was 50 percent off which made my last purchases a bittersweet experience. What did I get? Cobra Starship’s debut (I read it was decent on allmusic.com), an old Ursula 1000, Joe Jackson’s 1986 release I totally forgot about and there was one awesome find, Real Life’s 1990 record with their single “God Tonight.” Real Life is more famous for their 1983 and re-released 1989 single, “Send Me An Angel.” Jason was working the register, asking if people wanted to be on his e-mail list since the next step would be to liquidate the inventory online. I already am, how else did I know about my second chance! I told him thanks for everything over the last decade and good luck on his next endeavor.
Call me a Luddite but I don’t see how this is exactly progress. The second-hard market serves a purpose the digital future will exterminate through licensing in place of ownership.
Thanks again Jason. I hope to see something cool from you in my inbox.
Gerry isn’t very famous in America but many Sci-Fi fans know him because he was behind numerous puppet-based shows, namely Thunderbirds and the live-action yet quite dull Space: 1999. I’ve always thought there were strong foundations in his material, it just fell down in the execution. Oddly the Guardiansobit overlooked the movie version of Thunderbirds starring Bill Paxton. I saw it on cable, it was for kids.
There’s rumblings of a remake for Space: 1999 too. It’ll be called Space: 2099 and that’s about all these people claiming to be producers have achieved. Gerry must’ve been on to something with his Eagle spaceships, the Millennium Falcon originally resembled one until Lucas was inspired by a sandwich. Seems plausible after Jar Jar Binks being a major character in The Phantom Menace.
Gerry’s creations were certainly more famous in his native land. On one episode of Absolutely Fabulous, Edina had a nightmare involving a marionette resembling Lady Penelope who was supposed to be Patsy. Probably the equivalent of a Star Trek reference for us Americans.
I may be a DC guy but I respect and admire Stan. He’s one of the great writers who made the Silver Age incredible. He also co-created many characters I grew up with in the Seventies and Eighties. What makes Stan impressive? His career finally got rolling at age 38 with Fantastic Four #1. According to an interview (or was it his appearance on Dinner For Five), the comic was a long shot because his boss (and father-in-law) told him to create a team book since DC was having success with Justice League of America. Stan’s wife suggested that he wrote what he felt like, he wanted to quit anyway, why not make this a great finale.
Maybe I’ll gain some greater insight when I get around to reading this recent iPad/Kindle acquisition. Stan is sharp too. His guest commentary on The Simpsons was hilarious, intriguing and Al Jean just let him run the room. Amazing for a guy whose appearance was only a couple scenes.
I want to close with an announcement. After the memorable time I had at this year’s WizWorld, I made their Austin site my Firefox home page in order to be ready. Several days ago, they updated and Stan Lee will be the big guest! Gotta’ save up for a VIP ticket, maybe another for my nephew Hunter, he missed out.
Has it been five whole years since I started that ol’ navel-gazing chestnut? I’m rather bummed about the section not gaining any additional stories from others sharing their past holiday joys with me: those special toys, memories, etc. I know my friends have them and they’re not too personal. C’est la vie. Maybe I should just record them, transcribe what was said!
It all came full circle during the last holiday stretch. I just re-read the first run of 1977, 1982, 1987, 1992, 1997 and 2002. These certainly need some tweaking and editing. Hell 2002 could use some memory inducement! What a yawner! Then all the horrible things from 1992 come welling up like an emotional geyser so 2002 appears to be pretty sweet.
This Christmas was like the election…a push. It was great hanging out with my Aggie nephews, seeing a movie at Alamo (Django Unchained, review coming) and taking my time exercising; I had the whole Apple Gym to myself for a while! The sucky part is having to stick around to work during the traditional shutdown period. For the last two years I got the week off. I tried to make plans earlier in the Fall, try to make a repeat of 2011’s Chicago trip. It all fell threw with a destination and management kept dodging the request until I was finally told I would have to come in last week; should’ve told me that like over a month ago. Sure there’s the extra money, especially in light of the bills fueled by Molly’s death, Somara’s surgery and the server’s hard drive failure; yet I can’t exchange the money for more time on Earth. Poor Somara is stuck working too. It better pay off when we get those fat checks next month; we can’t go on vacation anytime until late Spring at the earliest.
What was I doing five years ago?
Somara had recently started her training class to join Apple as a member of the iTunes billing support group. She was a temp initially. Somara was a trooper too, she kept her part-time gig with HEB for several more months. For Christmas she gave me the new iPod Touch with a nice message engraved on the back, thus making it the first iPod I’ve never resold nor given away. It’ll be the music source for our next car! My Aggie nephews gave me a customized pair of Chucks they painted. Those remain in my Chucks rotation. I’m confident I went to work and tried to grab every possible early-out offered. We had two vehicles then, it was possible. I am certain we didn’t have any serious fun over the weekdays.
I did go to Houston by myself to hang out with Sonia and her family, rang in the New Year with the giant Polish delegation; other ethnic groups were likely present. It was sweet to finally meet Sonia’s daughter Julia. Philipe and I had a spirited debate about the upcoming US election; he’s a French citizen so he’s really a neutral observer. I was already a vocal supporter for Obama figuring he was the long-shot against Hilary, the DLC and the warchest she built up. I really preferred Bill Richardson, I just knew he was too qualified (fluent Spanish speaker, former governor, former UN ambassador, former Congressman, former cabinet member, had met PDRK’s dictator in person). Had a good time. Would’ve had a great time if Somara were with me.
The overall mood at the time was only semi-sour and not as filled with nervousness, the election would provide this by late Summer. Semi-sour? I felt work had hit a rut. Probably from the frustration of supporting 10.5, this release contained numerous new technologies we (meaning my co-workers and me) had to get our brains around. Obviously nothing came of it.
I did spend a couple evenings at Blue Marble to write the initial Six Days stories. I do miss the place. Sad to see it go under. Running an independent coffee shop is hard when you get triangulated by Starbucks. It was great while it lasted.
What is now the Seventh Day of Christmas ushered the end of a rather mixed or bittersweet year. Sweet: Jose & Nancy’s wedding; seeing the Maggi faction of Tampa, FL; seeing Sonia’s family; paying off Somara’s first student loan; Duran Duran concert; and getting my first new Apple portable in four years. Bitter: Wicca’s passing; Kenny’s Coffee ending badly; Somara’s health; and no trip to Las Vegas. I’m grateful the following year turned out a lot better.
I’m not a big fan of Christmas, especially after 1986 when it became a giant stressfest starring my family and over-consumption, but I have had the shoes for it since the mid Aughts. Somara had to make a visit at the Converse Store last weekend and I scored these laces to perfect my revered pair. Not a bad upgrade! Only 97 cents plus they were made in America!
Does this counter my own personal tradition of hiding out at the movies? I mean nothing celebrates the holiday better than a Quentin Tarantino parade of cursing, violence and racial slurs.
My childhood during the Seventies and early Eighties wouldn’t be the same with this duo on TV and in some movies.
Jack was immortalized as the sitcom version of Oscar on The Odd Couple. He had the right level of grouchiness in order to make Neil Simon’s character his own. It took me a while to accept that Walter Matthau was the original actor behind the beloved slob. Quincy was pretty cool initially. It did prevent Jack from being typecast. Then he did some commercials for a certain brand of printer/photocopier.
Charles was in a ton more stuff yet delegated to the “I know this guy but can’t remember his name.” What I like to call the Brian Dennehy Club. For my wife and me, he is immortalized as the villain Doc Hopper in The Muppet Movie.
Thanks for all the great, entertaining memories guys!
To my last, longest and favorite roommate in college. Sure it was rough with him being a smoker but I had my own bad habits. Twenty-five years ago we became roomies against all the conventional wisdom…hey, we were 19 then, we knew everything! Life was easier when I was so smart, today I don’t know jack. Paul definitely settled in before Christmas Break by installing a rather large Iron Maiden poster to counter all my Alt Rock stuff.
The photo above shows Paul with what I feel is the best gift I’ve given him since Metallica. A personally autographed photo of NFL Hall of Famer, Dick Butkus. As I mentioned back in the Fall, I got to meet him while we were in Las Vegas. The nice people at Field of Dreams picked out something Paul would love…Dick holding back a half dozen Packers.
