Jester Food

To eat good food is to be close to God.

--Primo, “Big Night”

I know, I’ve used that quote before. But its very apropos of today’s post, about the advances in dorm food at the Jester Center, at the University of Texas. Or, basically, my 25 years too late complaint about the chow.

Its an earthshattering topic, sure. Not nearly as important as something like the Aggie football program, or plastic surgery. Still, this story I’m about to unfold came like a bolt from the blue. Enough to delay the third and final part of my college football trilogy.

These past few years, I’ve gotten to spend a fair amount of time on campus (the University of Texas campus, that is), mainly because I workout at Gregory Gym. Well, actually, its because they have an indoor track and pool, so when the weather is bad I can still run, or swim. Anyway, I’m there at weird times, usually after 7 p.m., so other parts of campus can be a bit sparsely populated. After around 7, I figure these kids have more important things to do. You know, like studying, dining, napping before they go out, smoking dope and watching Sponge Bob Square Pants, going on keg runs. Not getting there during the day or spending much time in spots not between my secret parking spot and the gym, I don’t get to see too much of campus.

So its easy to forget how truly lovely it is, particularly after the recent (i.e. last 10 years or so) building growth spurt. Budget deficit? Recession? No problem for the University of Texas. Its doing its part to contribute to the stimulus program with lots of new buildings. Happily, most of these have an architectural style similar to the 1920s and 30s, and similar to some of the original campus buildings, like Garrison Hall, Waggoner Hall, or Painter Hall. Not like those hideous utilitarian boxes of the Frank Erwin/Peter Flawn era. I met Dr. Flawn once, actually. I was invited, at random along with about 50 other of my fellow students, to an informal get together at the President’s office. Very imposing. Two stories’ worth of books lining the walls, kind of like Professor Higgins’ study in My Fair Lady, only a lot darker. For the President of the University of Texas, that guy sure reminded me of Sam Drucker from Petticoat Junction. (That’s actually extremely funny to the 10 people in the world who’ve both seen Dr. Flawn and watched Petticoat Junction). The new landscaping and statues are also nice additions. The Barbara Jordan statue at the Union is really nice. She spoke at my graduation ceremony. Actually, she gave the longest, slowest, most painful speech I’ve ever heard not given by Bill Clinton. “Conviction values!” she kept booming in that Burning Bush of a voice, every minute killing me and everyone else sweating to death under graduation robes in the late May heat outside the Tower. What the hell that old lady was ranting about I have no idea. I’m ok that she’s the Voice of God and all, but with 2,000 drunk graduates and three times as many parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and significant others all suffering silently through the ceremony for us to be able to take pictures and have punch and dessert after, that speech had to stop about 45 minutes sooner than it did. I think I took a nap during the middle part. Or blacked out with heat stroke. I can’t really tell which.

Texas has, unfortunately, made it nearly impossible to park on campus unless you patronize one of their fancy new garages charging obscene rates. Averaged out, most Park Avenue townhouses are cheaper to rent than a UT parking garage spot. I guess it keeps away those pesky outsider troublemakers (or scams the parents visiting their kids on the weekends of the last few dollars still in their pocket after they’ve paid for tuition, room and board, and books). So most people have to park in state parking lots across MLK and walk past either the new AT&T center or the new Blanton Art Museum. By the way, how funny was it that Player’s Hamburgers got over on UT, who wanted to tear the place down to build their new cash cow hotel and conference center? The owner’s cousin was a state rep, and not even a powerful state rep . Just someone with enough influence to slow down appropriations if they condemned Player’s. So the place is still in business, no doubt serving food poison like I got the one and only time I ever went there, in 1982. Thank God there’s plenty of other places to go to now after 2 a.m.

But this is all kind of beside the point, which had something to do with dorm food. Another building you have to pass to get to the gym is the notorious Jester Center, at one time the largest college dormitory complex in the nation. Or, as they used to brag for some odd reason, its own zip code. A throwback to Soviet-bloc housing styles, it pretty much resembles the People’s Central Student Housing Complex for the Glory of the Proletariat. Or Cabrini Green, but with slightly more parking. Those of you Affirmers who’ve known me for awhile know that for one, brief, shining moment, I lived in Jester East my freshman year. No matter how bright it was outside, it always seemed dark inside. And it smelled like Bourbon Street, even after it was cleaned. Everything was trashed. Usually only one elevator out of eight was working. The cleaning crews didn’t work on weekends, so by Sunday afternoons the place resembled the Turkish hospital at the end of Lawrence of Arabia.

The food was about what you’d expect. Pretty much like soup at the Hanoi Hilton. Totally unbearable. Unsanitary. Inedible. The people making it looked like they were nust out on parole. The cashiers and other workers were the same work-study idiots you’d see throwing up on Sixth Street the night before (and going back into the bar because, after all, the night is young). They’d serve grilled cheese sandwiches one day, then the next they’d serve some Cheeto-ish looking casserole which, upon deconstruction, proved to be yesterday’s grilled cheese sandwich remnants in some undefined, goo-like residue. The usual entrée involved some sort of mystery meat, generally some grayish, stringy substance which you’d cross your fingers to hope wasn’t nutria. Or horse. The salad, which I didn’t eat at the time because that was back during my strict no green food diet, had black spots and looked like it had been sun-dried. For a treat, every three or four weeks, on a Sunday they’d give you a ticket which would entitle you to a steak or some grilled shrimp. But only once through the line. Normally you could go through the line as often as you like, which is where I first coined the phrase “its not good but there’s a lot of it.” Yeah, really, I thought of that one. The only thing remotely edible was dessert. My fellow students all looked like floating corpses toward the end of the year, sporting the look of someone having their last meal before spending the early morning hours being given the last rites and then lethal injection. By the end of the year, I was like the guy in Super Size Me, bloated, close to liver failure, and I had a mustache, which unbelievably was not a good look on me. Imagine Horatio Sanz from Saturday Night Live. The next year I lived in Moore-Hill and ate at the Varsity, which had edible food. And the ambiance of a 1950s hospital cafeteria. Several years later, Steve and I went on a tour group of several Huntsville TDCJ units, and had lunch at the Ellis II unit. It was the same food they served the prisoners. I remember thinking how it was so much better than what I ate my first year at school.

Within the last couple of weeks, I had the privilege of participating in the hearing from hell. Held in the Bob Bullock Museum just off campus, we were given somewhat extra long lunch breaks. To break the tension and get outside, I would walk across the street and walk on campus for about 15 to 20 minutes. Each day I would pass the Blanton and the Education building, the main library, and Jester Center. On a whim, and to get some air conditioning, I walked into Jester and for the first time since May 1983, walked into the student dining facility. What did my eyes behold, but a new day dawn. Gone was the industrial food complex, to be replaced by a variety of choices, all of which looked yummy and either nutritious, or not borderline toxic—deli, pizza, grill, entrée, salad bar, pasta bar—it was like being at a real dining facility. See examples in the photos above. Or the Austin airport. These kids were eating something you might actually want to eat, happily ignorant of the swill and grunge the prior management formerly served at that establishment. I spoke to an adultish-looking supervisor. She said that alumni frequently came there and were shocked at the changes, and all of them complained about how bad the food used to be.

I’m no expert, but as early as 1982, couldn’t a major American university with one of the richest endowments have been able to serve halfway decent food to its students? I’ve had better meals on hikes than what I got there. Or did it really take the computer and internet revolution to enable Jester to serve grilled salmon? In 1982, there were other locations on campus where you could eat halfway decent food, and not just the athletic dining hall. Kinsolving, the Varsity, the Union, all served food that wouldn’t leave you semi-paralyzed for two hours afterward. Texas obviously had the machines and the personnel to make edible food, why couldn’t they have done it at Jester? I went to A&M a couple of times when I was in school, and they had pretty good food. I’m sure it wasn’t just the animal husbandry connection (one of my favorite Aggie jokes involves the school of animal husbandry by the way…ask me some time). Hell, that was like going to Maxim’s by comparison.

So I’m glad to see today’s kids aren’t being killed by cuisine, or getting to play the “name that meat” game like those of us from yesteryear. You can thank Bill Powers, I guess, current UT President and one of my favorite law school professors, who, incidentally, gave me my worst grades. The best was Olin Guy Wellborn III, who once berated the class for not knowing that Elvis would shoot the screen of any television set if Robert Goulet or Mel Torme came on, and used to illustrate points with stories about the heavy metal doctor, the Midnight Special, or putting little children on leashes. That’s my kind of guy. As Will Ferrell might say, “Goulet!”

Next—the athletes are guilty too, man.

Hey Aggies, What are You Thinking?

OK, this is about three months after the fact, but its part two of the three part look at the festering hypocrisy that is college football.

Now its your turn Aggies. Really, I hate to do this, because everyone knows of my deep and abiding love for the Aggies. But it’s about time you folks faced reality. Running away to the SEC like some freckle-faced younger sister resentful of her older sister’s good looks, its just not going to work. You will always stand in the University of Texas’ shadow. Hiding out in a different conference will never eliminate comparisons and will never make you rise above or separate yourself from Texas.

This weirdness all got started when the Aggies took offense to the assumption that they would follow Texas and Oklahoma to the Pac-10. Worried that they might be turned gay or forced to vote for Democrats while attending games in Berkeley or Eugene, the Aggies looked east to the SEC, where they would feel more “comfortable.” When their administration decided to stay in the Big 12, for what we now know was a ransom payment of $20 million annually (its good to know all this is about the welfare of the "student-athletes" and not just a naked money grub) to repay the athletic department’s mismanaged and bloated debt, Aggie Nation erupted at the perceived humiliation of bowing to Texas and staying in a conference with such unsavory types as Texas Tech and Baylor. Hey, at least they're housebroken.

Content to jettison nearly 100 years of being aligned in the same athletic conference as Texas, the Aggies were outraged that their leaders did not move the school to the SEC. They variously gave three reasons. First, they chafe at being compared to and joining with Texas. In anything. The whole situation is like some Lifetime movie, where the ugly duckling sister (played by A&M), suffers ongoing humiliation and resentment at the attention paid the smarter, hotter older sister (played by Texas). She then spends the entire second half of the movie working on her psychotic evil revenge plot (only to be thwarted in the last five minutes by the cop who, for the previous one hour and 55 minutes, wouldn’t believe the older sister’s claims of being stalked). Second, they claim joining the SEC will help them recruit better players who want to play in the SEC but stay in Texas. The problem with that is, no matter what conference they join, their campus is still in College Station. And it’s A&M. Finally, they believe the SEC’s “culture” and “attitudes” more closely match the Aggies' outlooks on these things, whatever they are, than those of Big 12 schools. Unlike all the freaks in Austin. That thinking is kind of weird. In 20 years of living in Austin, I’ve always had to step over passed out Aggies on Sixth Street, who've poured out of College Station in their El Caminos and 1995 Dodge Ram pickups, looking for Austin-style fun. Kind of like Islamic fanatics who, when visiting the West, log a lot of strip club time. Like the 9/11 terrorists. Sorry, Aggies, for comparing you to terrorists. You know, I deplore people who look for racism under every blade of grass, but “they share our values” sounds a lot like George Wallace for President. "Stand Up for America."

You know, lots of states are like Texas, where there’s a main university…and the “other” university. You know them well. Florida State. Auburn. Virginia Tech. North Carolina State. Rutgers. Washington State. These “little sisters,” many of which are in their own way fine institutions, inevitably come up short when compared to their upstate, more glamorous university partner. They forever pour resources into PR, chase after headline-grabbing research grants, and hang onto every crumb of recognition that comes their way (“rated by US News and World Report as the 17th best geography studies program in the southwest among mid-tier universities”). But all the while their inferiority complex grows longer and longer, no matter how much time and resources they put into beating their big sister in something. Anything. And all the while, the big sister university really isn’t even aware of her because she’s too busy picking up Nobel Prizes or winning NCAA Championships.

Enter the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas (now called “Texas A&M”). Holy smokes Mr. Peabody, are these wing nuts off their meds or what?

They’re the yin to Texas’ yang. The beat up Trans-Am that you have to get into on the passenger side because the driver’s side door doesn’t work to UT’s Lamborghini. Red State University. Where men are men and sheep are scared. The Jersey Shore of academia. Rhoda to our Mary.

Texas A&M actually began as a division of the University of Texas, though it had its own board of directors and never was fully integrated in what became the University of Texas System. For most of its history, A&M has been exclusively white, exclusively male, exclusively military (all students were required to enter the Corps of Cadets). It existed in College Station, which essentially was a mail stop near Bryan. Not until 1963 did it even become a full-fledged university, in which women were admitted and military training became optional.

Texas A&M has always lived in the University of Texas’ shadow. Though created in the same legislation, Texas received a 2/3 share of the Permanent University Fund, endowed by billions in mineral royalties from state-owned lands, while A&M received only a 1/3 share. The Texas Constitution provided for the creation of a “university of the first class,” which the Legislature implemented by creating the University of Texas in 1883. It also provided that this university, which was to be called "The University of Texas," would have an "agricultural and mechanical department." Texas immediately became a full-fledged university in the state capitol of Austin, with advanced degree programs and professional schools (law and medicine). Texas has a $16 billion endowment (largest of any public university in the nation), nine member universities, six medical branches (including a dental school and the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center), 19 Nobel Prize winners and 20 Pulitzer Prize winners on the faculty, a Gutenberg Bible, the first photograph ever taken, and the David O. Selznick collection (basically, Scarlett O’Hara’s dresses). Its 50,000 students come from around the world, only half of whom are white. The male to female ratio is roughly 1:1. Most students live in Austin, widely regarded as the most interesting, and certainly most eclectic, city in Texas. They enjoy a wide variety of live music, clubs, excellent restaurants, museums, parks, theatres, and culture. Playboy, which should know, consistently rates it one of the best party schools in the nation. The athletics programs have consistently been among the best in the nation. Texas teams often compete for and win national championships in multiple sports. Texas has the highest paid football coach in the nation (Mack Brown, at $5.1 million annually). The program has produced two Heisman Trophy winners (which should have been three with Vince Young), and annually produces NFL players. Texas has more current NFL players than any other program. A Texas game is showtime, with Matthew McConaughey, Erin Andrews, the Texas Cheerleaders and Roger Clemens on the sidelines (OK, the Rocket may have had his sideline pass revoked), and College GameDay outside the stadium. Consistent sell outs and high donation levels have just funded a major stadium expansion and addition of suites. Texas runs the most profitable and lucrative football program in the nation, and is creating its own television network. Texas alumni include the likes of Walter Cronkite, Michael Dell, Janis Joplin, Farrah Fawcett, Robert Rodriguez, Eli Wallach, Owen Wilson, Renee Zellweger, 15 US Senators and Congressmen and women, a Supreme Court justice, multiple Cabinet members, two First Ladies, and Mary Lou Retton.

Texas A&M? Not so much. If the Taliban ran a university, it would probably have a lot in common with A&M (but with a lot more muslimness). Its located in what has been, until recently, the God-forsaken backwater known as College Station. Outside of the Dixie Chicken, not much is happening at A&M. Its isolation has forever fueled a sense of insularity and resentment. Before students step foot in class they must attend Fish Camp, an indoctrination course where they learn all the intricate and extreme “yells” as well as the school’s history and traditions. These include such rituals as “Muster,” where Aggies all over the world gather to remember those who have died over the past year, “Silver Taps,” a ceremony held for those students who have passed during the previous month, and until lately, “midnight yell,” a type of pep rally on steroids and bathtub gin, “Bonfire,” held before the Texas game as a rallying point (actually, drinking point) to heap more scorn on Texas, and numerous other traditions, codes, and rituals. The official school song, “Spirit of Aggieland,” basically whines about how no one can understand what it means to be an Aggie. Imagine if Travis Bickle wrote your school song. Hullabaloo, caneck, caneck. What, exactly, does that mean anyway? Until 1963, military service was compulsory, and women were not admitted to the school. Women were not admitted into the Corps until 1974, and not admitted into the marching band until 1988, which is really astounding. I was a second year law student then. Today, A&M has an endowment of $5 billion. Male students outnumber women 53 to 47 percent, and roughly 2/3 of all students are white. 16% of all students came from Harris County. Football games have a lot in common with the inspection of the Royal Guard. Saber armed cadets “guard” the sacred Kyle Field turf (one idiot in an obvious Benzedrine rage took after some SMU cheerleaders in the early 1980s with his sword [oh, excuse me, his "saber"], all for bespoiling the sacred field of the Men of Kyle with their presence). A military band performs at halftime in a performance known as a “drill,” and these days draw more interest than the football team. Its “cheerleaders” are called “yell leaders,” and are exclusively male, wearing Good Humor Man white jumpsuits and generally displaying a Rex Kwan Do attitude. Women are expected to kiss their dates when the Aggies score, which mercifully is not that often. Its all very Branch Davidian. A&M has no law school (though it has tried for some time to merge with South Texas College of Law in Houston), and while it has a fine veterinary school its medical school was not founded until the 1970s. Famous Aggie alums (known as “former students”) include Rick Perry, Governor of Texas, Robert Earl Keen, Lyle Lovett, and that’s about it other than football players.

Time has been kinder to Texas than to A&M. Texas desegrated much earlier than A&M, leading to an early break down of white male control and protection from legislative politics. As Texas’ power has grown, its influence is felt in major corporations, governmental and financial institutions, the law, medicine, and other disciplines. It has a diverse student body, vast resources, and incredibly loyal (and giving) alumni. A&M, on the other hand, has had rocky times since Col. Rudder brought it into the 20th Century, in the early 1960s, by turning it into an actual university. It endured painful litigation over segregation and the admission of women. As late as 1987, it was still in litigation over allowing women into the marching band. Uh, yeah. That’s right. The marching band. Its system campuses are located in complete backwaters, like…Kingsville, Quatar, and Galveston. What, no plans to start a Pyongyang branch? Anyway, it’s bought some Nobel winners from other universities, but, cold fusion? Really? With the ascendancy of former yell leader Rick Perry to the Governorship, he has sought to assert control over the school, through his handpicked Chancellor, former State Representative Mike McKinney, much like Frank Erwin ruled the University of Texas as a “boss” in the late 1960s.

While Texas has an eclectic, inquisitive, and diverse student body and dynamic atmosphere, A&M has one of the most conservative and homogeneous student bodies in the nation. Like Fiddler on the Roof, “tradition” drives A&M. Rituals, ceremonies, codes, symbols…all live at A&M. It is not a place where one’s pre-existing attitudes and values are questioned or even examined. Aggieland is not a place for exposure to other ways, lifestyles, or thoughts. It is a place where one must fit in, and the quasi-basic training indoctrination promotes that. The Aggies are about fidelity to the past; Texas is about making the future. A university education should reflect a liberal view, though not liberalism as we know it politically. A “liberal view” is a view that exposes one to all manner of philosophies, lifestyles, values, and thoughts. Only by examining other ways can one truly lead an informed life. Anything else is just pablum. Put another way, an unexamined life is not worth living. A university education should provide that sort of view, yet at A&M, insults of being a “two percenter” await anyone that does not hew to the village norm. While Texas attracts students from around the world, A&M is largely a place where suburban Houston kids with above-average grades go to school. Close enough to take laundry back home over the weekends.

The disparity shows up most obviously on the playing field. Texas has four national championships, played for a fifth, and should have played for a sixth. It has two Heisman Trophies (and should have a third). It has won numerous conference championships, and played in some of the greatest college football games of all time. It consistently ranks in the Top 25. Its baseball teams have had more College World Series appearances than any other school. The basketball program was in the Final Four within the past several years, and has had much tournament success. Texas has the highest annual athletic revenue of any program in the country. The Aggies? Other than their 1939 national championship (before facemasks, and the year Germany invaded Poland), it hasn’t seriously contended for a national championship or had the sustained dominance as Texas. It boasts one Heisman Trophy winner, from 1939. During one stretch in the 1980s under Jackie Sherrill, of course, it enjoyed some success, principally due to paying players like Kevin Murray. But A&M has lost twice to Baylor in the last six years. Its athletic department is approximately $16 million in debt to the university, and fans are staying away in droves as its football fortunes remain moribund. A&M’s baseball program is virtually non-existent. It enjoyed some recent basketball success, only to see its coach leave for Kentucky. Otherwise, while the Aggies have been competitive for the most part they have never achieved Texas’ sustained excellence level.

Texas has clearly dominated the athletic rivalry, for rather obvious reasons. Take free Trans Ams and cash-filled envelopes out of the equation, and there’s no way the average college kid is going to prefer four years in College Station to four years in Austin. There’s really no comparison. We have (or at times have had) Farrah, Sandra, Sixth Street, Willie, Barton Springs, Robert Rodriguez, Matthew McConaughey, Austin City Limits Music Festival, South by Southwest, Quentin Tarantino’s film festival, Round Rock Express, Highland Lakes, the Continental Club, Matt’s, Salt Lick, Hamilton Pool, Hula Hut, Mount Bonnell, the Blanton Museum, the Bullock Museum…the list goes on and on. College Station has…not as much. Maybe some stills and meth labs in Brazos County. Lots of farm animals. I think there’s a Grandy’s next to the Target. Oh, and the Dixie Chicken. Lots of grass on campus that for some unknown reason you can’t walk on. And more pickup trucks per capita than anywhere else in the world. Throw in the fact that for at least the last two years, only 12 A&M players have been selected in the NFL draft in the last five years (to Texas having had 61 draft picks in the last 13 years), and its relatively easy to see the huge recruiting advantage that Texas has over A&M. The Aggies offer a more college-like atmosphere, but their school is insular, white, conservative, and rural. It’s a great place if your pickup is a dualie and you chew skoal. Not so much if you’re a 6’, 5”five star quarterback from Madison High who can run a 4.58 40.

Against that backdrop, the Ags cited three reasons for jumping to the SEC. The first, to not be tied to Texas, makes no sense whatsoever. You are. Face it. By history and society, by government and alumni, you and Texas are forever linked. Each school’s alumni live on the same streets, work in the same companies (though the Longhorns usually supervise the Aggies), frequent the same establishments, and otherwise live the same lives. When we order our pizzas, you show up at our doorsteps. The Bonfire collapse, and resulting outpouring of assistance from the Texas campus, showed this. You will always be our little sister. Though Texas and A&M could still play a non-conference game against one another if A&M jumped to the SEC, part of the rivalry arises from the fact that we play not only a game, but we compete through the year for the conference title. By playing the same conference schedule, it provides another way for the schools to measure themselves directly. Plus, Texas’ flagship schools should be in a Texas conference with other Texas schools. I appreciate SEC football as much as anyone. Great football is played in Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and so forth. But face it, this is Texas’ game. We wrote the book. Texans, whether they played for Texas colleges or not, dominate the NFL. Texas colleges need to play other Texas colleges. Not Vanderbilt. And not the land grant schools in a bunch of hick southern states still mad about desegregation. The two schools will always be compared, whether A&M joins the SEC or not. But if it joins the SEC, it will forever lose the ability to prove its superiority with a direct comparison to conference records.

Another reason Aggies cite to move to the SEC is that it will help them recruit. Texas kids who might want to play SEC competition but want to stay in Texas, I guess, will see A&M as their chance to do just that. Ask Vanderbilt about that theory, guys. Or Arkansas. Arkansas has been nothing since it left the Southwest Conference and stopped playing Texas schools. Texas, California and Florida have the highest numbers of quality high school football players, and until the past few years, A&M had generally had success in recruiting them. Now Tech routinely out-recruits it (and its not like four years in Lubbock is any great prize either). Texas kids who want to play in the SEC are going to go somewhere they can get on TV and get to the NFL, neither of which describes Texas A&M. The Aggies will be lucky to go 4-8 every year in the SEC. That simply won’t entice Texas kids to go to A&M.

Another reason given is it will force A&M to step up its recruiting. I don’t get it. Are you not trying now? You people can’t even count on beating Baylor. Oh by the way, R.C. Slocum never lost to Baylor. Bet you wish you had that guy back. You’re clearly getting beat now; why not just step it up now? Try to beat Oklahoma, Texas, Tech, and Baylor consistently before worrying about taking on LSU and Alabama every year. Besides, the reason A&M can’t recruit is its campus and its anemic football program. The campus won’t change if A&M plays in the SEC, and the higher caliber competition there will ensure A&M’s record deteriorates. Going to the SEC won’t do anything to help those factors. It’s like being an average hitter in AA baseball, and thinking your average will improve if you jump up to the majors because there’s stronger competition. How have you done against SEC opponents lately? Arkansas and Georgia, in the middle of the SEC pack, both crushed A&M last year. Actually, what will happen is you’ll get killed. Or become someone’s personal assistant. Oh, and your closest opponent will be in Baton Rouge, not exactly a quick trip over from Brazos County.

The final thing I remember Aggies saying is that SEC schools are “more like us,” while Texas is made up of freaks and weirdoes. A t-shirt recently seen on campus states, “Keep College Station Normal.” Its intended as a counter-point to the “Keep Austin Weird” motto. What exactly do they mean by “normal”? Apparently, most of Aggieland thinks that SEC schools are more “normal” than Texas, or the Pac-10 schools. SEC schools like Ole Miss, Arkansas, Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia…. Predominantly white schools, which became desegregated under court order and in some instances at the insistence of several Airborne Divisions called in for the occasion. Not exactly known as bastions of inclusiveness, or scholarship generally. You don’t exactly think “Nobel Prize” when you think of Mississippi State. You do think of the Sunday catfish fry down by the river bank after church. With lots of country music (along with plenty of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Molly Hatchet, of course) blaring from tricked-out Ford F-350s. Lots of Wrangler jeans and plaid short-sleeve shirts on thick-necked men beaded with sweat. Too many people are too eager to find racism under every rock. But when the Aggies talk of wanting to be in a conference of schools “just like us,” its not unfair to ask if they mean a conference dominated and run by rural white Southerners resistant to change and other “outside” influences. Or just a bunch of hicks.

So to my Aggie friends, you need to check yourselves. Don’t go counting birds in the bush that haven’t hatched. Or something like that.

Next up—the players are at fault too.

Where Have You Been?

I've been trapped like a head trying to pass though a turtleneck sweater, getting ready for and participating in an extended hearing. You wouldn't believe how work can get in the way of important things, like posting to my blog about the volleyball scene in Top Gun. Or Star Trek. Its appalling. Anyway, the hearing has concluded, and hopefully some status quo level of lifestyle sanity will resume.

I have all kinds of riveting entries planned for the fall. Like, there's this one where I talk about how dorm food now is better than it was 25 years ago.

Oh, and this one time, at band camp...

On second thought, you probably haven't missed much.

See you soon. Hope everyone enjoyed their summer.