<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920</id><updated>2012-02-02T22:15:37.428-06:00</updated><category term='room mothers'/><category term='Komen Race for the Cure'/><category term='mean girls'/><category term='exclusion'/><category term='.'/><category term='Waco Cotton Palace'/><title type='text'>BoilerBabe</title><subtitle type='html'>A Purdue Boilermaker who is also a wife, mom, and attorney, pontificating on law, politics, news, sports, kids, and miscellaneous other things.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>221</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6048284509066014722</id><published>2012-02-02T22:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T22:15:37.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Haiku:  A Morning Jog</title><content type='html'>Running through the clouds&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly cool and crisp&lt;br /&gt;At the break of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps not the best, but I composed this while jogging in the fog this morning.  Who says running can't be productive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6048284509066014722?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6048284509066014722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6048284509066014722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6048284509066014722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6048284509066014722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-haiku-morning-jog.html' title='My Haiku:  A Morning Jog'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1939773406445883656</id><published>2011-09-06T10:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T10:51:20.155-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Helen Wilson and potato salad</title><content type='html'>Throughout college, and most of high school, for that matter, if we were having barbecue, my job was to make the potato salad.  At first, it was just to dice the potatoes and the boiled eggs, and my mom would chop the onions and add the pickle relish and salad dressing.  I advanced to chopping the onions, and before long, I was doing the whole bowl of salad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reached the point where I HATED making potato salad.  It didn't matter that everyone loved my mom's recipe and always wanted her to bring the potato salad to any gathering.  The fact was that I only sort of liked potato salad myself and would have been perfectly happy without it.  I hated cutting up the various ingredients--I was slow and it took me forever.   "Why me?" I would wail before my mom asked me oh-so-sweetly to just start it, knowing that once I started it, I'd probably finish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, when my mom died, I stopped making potato salad.  There was no reason to do so.  By then, in 1989 when she died, I'd moved to Texas and was rarely home for those cook-out holidays.  In Texas, I never made it for my family, even though I'd acquired more of a taste for it, nor did anyone else ask me to make potato salad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So alas, yesterday, when out of the blue I decided to make potato salad, it had been more than 20 years since the last time I had done so.  My mom's recipe was still stored in the recesses of my brain, although I had to dig a bit.  So off I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And. . . it was good!  Even the youngest BoilerBaby liked it.  BB3 was particularly taken by it, mostly foregoing the California cole slaw that she loves and in fact had made in favor of the potato salad.  I felt like such a rotten mother, having deprived my kids of something that they very much liked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed it too, maybe because it brought back such fond memories of the mother who raised me and the good times that abounded when she was around.  I can't really call it "comfort food" because it was not that to me as a child.  Maybe for me, the better term is "mom food."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1939773406445883656?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1939773406445883656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1939773406445883656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1939773406445883656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1939773406445883656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2011/09/helen-wilson-and-potato-salad.html' title='Helen Wilson and potato salad'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1322469832865954813</id><published>2011-05-09T11:15:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T14:55:40.340-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mean girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exclusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='room mothers'/><title type='text'>Mean Girls, Part Deaux</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M5gNFrmngF0/TcgZkzNpHEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/kWD4GT-vKcA/s1600/mean%2Bgirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M5gNFrmngF0/TcgZkzNpHEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/kWD4GT-vKcA/s320/mean%2Bgirls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604757856275995714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being middle-class means that I live in a nice, relatively safe suburban neighborhood, with good, relatively safe public schools. That's good. The downside is that there are too many middle-class moms with time on their hands.  As the saying goes, idle hands are the devil's workshop.  Their main concern is ensuring that their children are popular with both the other kids and the teachers, even if it means that their mean girl personas, which should have long ago disappeared as they grew in maturity, are too often allowed to come out and play.  To-wit:  I received an email from the room moms for the youngest BB's first grade class.  They're preparing for the end of the year (good).  They're planning to purchase a very nice gift for the teacher (wonderful).  They've asked for donations for this gift (no problem).  So far, so good, until I reached the end of the email where there's the description of the card to be signed from the kids &lt;strong&gt;who contributed to the gift!&lt;/strong&gt;  That's right.  Children who can't or don't contribute, don't get to sign the card. We wouldn't want Mrs. K. to miss crediting the kids who gave her the gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be clear here:  I appreciate what the room moms do.  Even though their motives may not be entirely pure, their volunteer work in the class room is surely a help when kids need individual attention.  Plus, somebody has to organize the different parties during the year, and I appreciate that they're willing to do so.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, in my middle-class neighborhood, there aren't that many kids whose parents can't afford to contibute, but there are some whose families are economically challenged. It is those kids who I feel for, maybe because I would have been one of those kids.  But of course, I wuld have never been put in that position.  My mom, was often the room mom.  And she never did &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;anything&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; that would have the effect of excluding any child.  Indeed, she often came up with creative, but inexpensive, ideas in her role as room mom.  I don't recall if we ever gave the teacher a gift, but if we did, it was not expensive and did not require all kids to contribute money.  What I do recall is that every year, the teachers were genuinely effusive in their praise of what a great room mom she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should also note that it's not that I think that private school parents are somehow better.  Rather, in my experience, they tend to be a little more secure in their social position and don't feel as much of a need to remind the teachers of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's rather an understatement to say that I'm a little miffed about the email I received.  Yep, let's teach our kids the value of money, and while we're at it, let's give them an early lesson on exclusiveness.  In fact, better yet, maybe the children's signatures should reflect the size of their contribution:  those who give the most, can sign first and in the biggest print so that Mrs. K will know who &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;really&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to favor and perhaps even pass that info on to next year's teachers.  First grade is not too early to learn this important lesson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1322469832865954813?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1322469832865954813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1322469832865954813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1322469832865954813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1322469832865954813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2011/05/mean-girls-part-deaux.html' title='Mean Girls, Part Deaux'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M5gNFrmngF0/TcgZkzNpHEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/kWD4GT-vKcA/s72-c/mean%2Bgirls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3508613808725038226</id><published>2011-04-08T17:15:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T19:58:53.403-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waco Cotton Palace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Komen Race for the Cure'/><title type='text'>Waco: Komen and Cotton Palace</title><content type='html'>Today, in the space of about 30 seconds, I went from pride in my hometown to chagrin. This morning, as I lie in bed, willing myself to roll out, I saw the promo for the Race for the Cure, in which one of my colleagues appears. We quickly "rewound" the ad to see her again. I felt all warm and fuzzy, remembering all the years we've participated. It's a big to-do in Waco, and we've participated every year, either walking the 1 mile or running the 5K. Rain or shine, with little kids or without, we were there, enjoying the carnival atmosphere, collecting the freebies, honoring breast cancer survivors, and supporting a good cause. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I basked in the glow of warm memories, the commercial for Waco Cotton Palace ran--that annual "celebration" where we relive the charm and pageantry of the antebellum South. I've never succeeded in explaining Cotton Palace to one who hasn't experienced it, probably because I'm biased and bothered about the whole thing. It's so wrong in so many ways, let me count those ways. The King of Cotton, an old and accomplished businessman, and the Queen, a young, fresh-faced high school senior. That's bad enough, but consider how one becomes Queen. She isn't chosen because of her academic accomplishments, her good deeds, or even her beauty. Rather, she must be a member of one of the old, very wealthy Waco families. That's it. She's won the birth lottery. At least I think that's how it works. It's steeped in great mystery, and not accessible to a mere commoner like me. Then there are the princesses (Waco girls) and the duchesses (outsiders). They too are not necessarily accomplished--trust me, I know. Connections, however, matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, the royal motif is annoying, but most colleges and high schools select a Homecoming King and Queen, and I don't lose a wink of sleep about it. Rather, it's the fact that Cotton Palace is exclusive in particularly repugnant ways. Blacks and Latinos (and probably Jews) need not apply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait, there's more. The pageant and the show, a reliving of the history, the happy history, when cotton was king, some people attended lovely balls and sipped mint juleps, while others literally slaved away, denied the fruits of their labor. Slavery is a historical fact, but not one I believe worthy of a celebration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an outsider, so maybe that's why I don't get it. But it's not worth it to me to try to understand. Every year, other outsiders will attend Cotton Palace for the first time and some will be offended. I've done my best to warn them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3508613808725038226?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3508613808725038226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3508613808725038226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3508613808725038226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3508613808725038226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2011/04/waco-komen-and-cotton-palace.html' title='Waco: Komen and Cotton Palace'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8076272899357927923</id><published>2010-09-28T18:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T21:22:40.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For posterity</title><content type='html'>I post only so that I can remember all that is happening.  It is happening quite fast.  After yearsw of thinking about remodeling, making excuses for not remodeling, lacking the courage to undertake the remodeling, being ambivalent about remodeling, and being downright too cheap, we finally took the plunge.  The great remodel of the back bathroom, our master bathroom, and [drum roll]  . . . the kitchen has begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The work actually started last Monday, September 20, with the demolition of the back bathroom.  We left that morning, and by the afternoon, everything except the tub was gone.  The next day, Bruce and Nellie replaced old insulation and damaged drywall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came Wednesday and demolition of the kitchen.  Bruce and Nellie don't play!  We left that morning, and by the afternoon, all the old cabinets were out, the built-in china cabinet gone, the flooring removed, and the appliances in the dumpster.  The kitchen was just a shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, new drywall in the kitchen, measurements for the pass-through and the mud guys started their work.  Those guys work hard for their money.  As we sat cackling over mindless TV, they were prepping the drywall and texturing the back bathroom and kitchen.  I don't know what happened on Friday because I left for the recruiting forum in LA. but I believe the mud guys finished texturing both the back bath and the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was too exciting for words! We stayed up late Sunday emptying our bathroom cabinets.  On Monday when I left, the kitchen was still little more than a shell; the back bath was a shell, and our bathroom had all the old cabinets and counters.  When I arrived home, it was as though the remodeling fairy waved her magic wand!  New kitchen cabinets were set; the back bath cabinets were set, and the old vanities in our bath were removed and new doors for some cabinets and the new vanity cabinets were set.  Cabinets, cabinets everywhere!  It was so much fun finding the little design touches that we weren't expecting.  The 45 degree angles on the bottoms of base cabinets; the end panels with the same detail as the doors; the new end cabinet for the telephone books and other stuff.   It was quite exciting to see the new drawers in places that we hadn't had them before.  Plus, the crown moulding was installed in the kitchen and back bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight as I sit recording this at 9 pm, the mud/paint guys are priming the cabinets.  Bruce and Nellie finished the demolition of our bathroom earlier in the day, replaced damaged drywall, installed can lights in the kitchen, and the plumber was here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are boxes everywhere, but this too shall pass.  And we'll have a pretty new kitchen plus updated bathrooms to boot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8076272899357927923?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8076272899357927923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8076272899357927923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8076272899357927923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8076272899357927923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/09/for-posterity.html' title='For posterity'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1987526253407843476</id><published>2010-08-28T15:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T16:08:17.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference 18 years makes?</title><content type='html'>We watched &lt;em&gt;Home Alone 2 &lt;/em&gt;this weekend with the younger BoilerBabies. It was released 18 years ago, so it's not exactly a revelation of Biblical proportions that there have been some noticeable changes since then. But some of those changes are reminders of how fast things have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The McCallister family is headed on vacation, and they have &lt;em&gt;airline tickets! &lt;/em&gt;Not e-tickets, but the real paper tickets in an airline envelope, something the younger BBs have never seen and the older ones probably don't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O'Hare Airport looks a little dated, but what's particularly striking is how quickly a huge family gets through security. Of course, this was before 9/11. There was no requirement to show a government-issued ID, slip one's shoes off, and submit to a full-body scan before heading to the gate. And had little Kevin ran onto a plane without a valid boarding pass in today's world, he might have experienced a quick introduction to the air marshals. Kevin's visit to the Twin Towers drove home the point of the setting being in a pre-9/11 world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as usual, the technology establishes its own time stamp. There are some large, clunky electronic things, but it was Kevin's Polaroid camera that brought on the nostalgia. "Shake it like a Polaroid picture" just can't have the same meaning now that Polaroid cameras are obsolete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There may be other things that I missed, given that as usual, I was multi-tasking (a phrase that might not have been in common parlance when the movie was released), but this I know: the kids laughed just as much as if the movie had been released last week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1987526253407843476?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1987526253407843476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1987526253407843476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1987526253407843476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1987526253407843476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-difference-18-years-makes.html' title='What a difference 18 years makes?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5972893079281845335</id><published>2010-08-17T20:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T21:50:01.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Omigosh, I am SO old??</title><content type='html'>In just 2 hours and 11 minutes, Iwill no longer start my age with the digit "4."  This is my last day in my 40s, and I'm okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a child, 20-somethings were big people, adults, that is until I got to my 20s and felt like an imposter playing dress-up.  Then 30 seemed &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;old--until I got to 30.  It seemed anti-climactic in fact.  The only thing that changed was that I stopped adding a year to my age with each birthday.  I realized it when I started to tell someone I was 30 when in fact I was 33.  Oops! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The age of 40 was even more anticlimactic.  There was too much going on.  The most memorable thing about 40 was that I was stung by a bee, for the first time ever, on my birthday.  Lucky me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what thoughts do I have about turning 50?  Well, it sounds &lt;em&gt;really, really &lt;/em&gt;old.  Fifty years.  One-half century.  Old enough to be a member of AARP.  Senior discounts, here I come! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, so much has happened that when related to younger folk, it makes me sound old.  I have an adult child, for goodness sake!   In my lifetime, I've seen the advent of cheap electronics, from calculators ($400 when I started high school) to the home computer.  My iPhone has more functionality than the computers aboard the first Apollo space ships.  Oh, and there was that first moon-landing that I witnessed live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would sound like an old fogey should I start to talk about the price of things "back in the day."    I'll be able to regale my grandchildren with stories of purchasing 45s for 99 cents and LPs for $7.00 ($12.00 for double albums).  Oh yes, I can remember when candy bars were 10 cents and even a nickel bought a bag of penny candy.   Fifty cents bought enough candy to share with the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more serious note, I was born into a country where it was perfectly legal to discriminate against Blacks and women for no other reason than that they were Blacks and women.   Only as an adult did I apprecate my mother's accomplishment in being able to qualify for mortgage as a widowed, Black woman.  That didn't occur until after the passage of the various civil rights acts, but discrimination was so endemic that obtaining a loan with three strikes against her (female, single, and Black) was almost unheard of at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had I grown up in the South, I might have sipped from the water fountain set aside for "Negroes."  I was 6 or 7 years old before the Supreme Court &lt;em&gt;decided Loving v. Virginia.   &lt;/em&gt;Women lawyers (or for that matter, female bus drivers) were rare, virtually an object of curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I could go on, but the simple fact is a lot has happened.  But . . . I don't feel my age.  I started this morning with a walk/run in which I felt great!  Endorphins are my friends.  My mother, God bless her, couldn't run 50 yards when she was 50 years old.  On a good day, I can jog three miles, and four miles on a &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no grandchildren, and no expectation of any anytime soon.   I do have, however, a six-year old.  Plus, I'm still too young to qualify for the best senior citizen discounts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tomorrow, I cross an artificial and arbitrary line.  But the simple fact is that life (God willing) goes on and life is good.  I expect that there will be little difference between today and tomorrow, besides a little cake (okay a lotta cake) and ice cream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5972893079281845335?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5972893079281845335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5972893079281845335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5972893079281845335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5972893079281845335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/08/omigosh-i-am-so-old.html' title='Omigosh, I am SO old??'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6036316647613195636</id><published>2010-04-14T22:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T22:35:57.451-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Fourth Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8aJQGMpmGI/AAAAAAAAAY4/JwzS15PoqY4/s1600/nosepicker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 166px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460202507867887714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8aJQGMpmGI/AAAAAAAAAY4/JwzS15PoqY4/s200/nosepicker.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post is a sequel to an earlier &lt;a href="http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-in-kindergarten.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;. This time, BB3 is the reporter. According to her, Nick, another fourth grader, was pretending to stick his finger far up his nose, when lo and behold Nate came along and bumped Nick, causing Nick to jam his finger so deep into his nose that he couldn't get it out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kid you not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This incident resulted in a visit to the school nurse, who I'm sure never expected that extracting fingers from noses was part of her job description. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My children's school is rated "exemplary" based on its standardized testing scores, but recent events cast doubt on that rating. I think that the teachers are teaching the three Rs which is good, but they just might want to add a lesson or two on the importance of not sticking things in ones ear or nose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just sayin'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6036316647613195636?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6036316647613195636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6036316647613195636' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6036316647613195636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6036316647613195636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/04/adventures-in-fourth-grade.html' title='Adventures in Fourth Grade'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8aJQGMpmGI/AAAAAAAAAY4/JwzS15PoqY4/s72-c/nosepicker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6109079000141279960</id><published>2010-04-11T22:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T12:46:43.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Night to Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8KfIJZe3QI/AAAAAAAAAYw/RXs4qvhaBrI/s1600/DSC02164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459100660637031682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8KfIJZe3QI/AAAAAAAAAYw/RXs4qvhaBrI/s200/DSC02164.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's pretty special anytime someone opens their home for a homemade meal of beef tenderloin, macaroni and cheese, peppermint cucumbers, salad, yeast rolls, and chocolate cake with strawberries and fresh whipped cream. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's particularly special when that someone is former U.S. Senator Carol Moseley Braun. Yesterday evening with Senator/Soror Braun was the highlight of the 30 year reunion in Chicago of my college sorority line sisters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Given her prominence as a former senator and former ambassador to New Zealand, her connections to both Pres. Clinton and Pres. Obama, not to mention her many and varied accomplishments, she could be forgiven for not wanting to give us the time of day. Instead, she was gracious, down-to-earth, funny, and insightful. And we learned that Senator Braun can "bust a move!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have my soror, Maria, to thank for the invitation. Five years ago, Maria did a favor for Senator Braun, and Senator Braun promised Maria that she had a friend for life. Senator Braun was true to her word so that when Maria called Carol to say that we would be in Chicago for the weekend, Carol suggested that we have a get-together at her house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For lots of reasons, we had a weekend that won't soon be forgotten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6109079000141279960?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6109079000141279960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6109079000141279960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6109079000141279960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6109079000141279960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/04/night-to-remember.html' title='A Night to Remember'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S8KfIJZe3QI/AAAAAAAAAYw/RXs4qvhaBrI/s72-c/DSC02164.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2730750235735984138</id><published>2010-04-01T21:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T07:50:16.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am an April Fool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7VXeIZKmLI/AAAAAAAAAYo/b4ykBhxNjKA/s1600/April+fools.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455362698789951666" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; height: 170px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7VXeIZKmLI/AAAAAAAAAYo/b4ykBhxNjKA/s200/April+fools.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I actually flirted with the idea of pulling an April Fool's prank, but too much to do, so little time. So it was only a fleeting thought, and it was gone for good--or so I thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;BB1, nearing the finish line of her 17 years of education, called mid-morning. She sounded distraught from the word "hello."  She explained that her college had sent her an email informing her that she was one class shy of graduating.  According to the message,  she would be able to take the course in the Fall and graduate in December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blood ran cold.  She'd lose her job, scheduled to start in June!  She'd  be delayed six  months!  She'd lose face!  We couldn't move her off the family payroll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What?? How could this happen," I inquired. She wailed as only she can, "I don't know-w-w!" We ended the call quickly because of her professed need to get to class and her promise to try to sort it out and call me back later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two minutes later I get the text message, "April fools!!!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got a whole year to come up with the mother of all (get it!?!) pranks.  Payback.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2730750235735984138?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2730750235735984138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2730750235735984138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2730750235735984138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2730750235735984138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-am-april-fool.html' title='I am an April Fool'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7VXeIZKmLI/AAAAAAAAAYo/b4ykBhxNjKA/s72-c/April+fools.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6115158635247617532</id><published>2010-03-28T22:22:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T18:55:46.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Most Brilliant Idea Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7Ak58HwWwI/AAAAAAAAAYg/3OqN2Rxm5NM/s1600/Anthony.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453899726555470594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7Ak58HwWwI/AAAAAAAAAYg/3OqN2Rxm5NM/s200/Anthony.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes the stars collide and the result is a brilliant idea. The first star in this impending collision: I just finished reading all 1000+ pages of &lt;em&gt;Gone with the Wind. &lt;/em&gt;Consequently, I have a &lt;em&gt;slightly&lt;/em&gt; better understanding of why the Waco Cotton Palace endures to this day. The Antebellum South--that bygone era when there was Southern hospitality, lovely barbecues, balls, and beautiful dresses to wear to the balls. Life would be grand for anyone who sipped mint juleps at the expense of someone else's involuntary servitude. But I digress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second star in this collision: Anthony, that Southern Belle extraordinare of &lt;em&gt;Project Runway &lt;/em&gt;fame, was auf'd this week. He might have a little free time on his hands. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now for the brilliant idea. Anthony, a self-avowed "queen" seems like the perfect person to be Waco Cotton Queen! What could be better? And he could dress the "princesses" and "duchesses." No more boring (read "ugly") hoop skirts. Haute couture for all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are a few problems, I admit. First, so far, traditionally (as in every year), the Cotton Queen ("CQ") has been a high school senior. I think that Anthony is a bit old for the role. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second, tradionally (as in every year), the CQ has been a female. Anthony is probably far more engaging than most would-be CQs, but maybe the accomplished old businessman who wears the Cotton King crown, might object to "Queen Anthony." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Third, traditionally (as in every year), the CQ is from Old Waco Money. I don't know much about Anthony's background, but I'm guessing he might have a problem with the "Old," the "Waco," and the "Money" part. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps the biggest problem (bigger than even the gender problem) is that (gasp!) Anthony is, shall we say, a Negro. Traditionally (as in always), African American girls aren't invited to participate in Cotton Palace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get it. If the idea is to celebrate that South that has "gone with the wind," then it would be inauthentic to include blacks as princesses or duchesses, let alone CQ. That is the reality of Cotton Palace in 2010 in Waco. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But with the new millenium being ten years old, time for a new direction. Anthony for Cotton Queen. That's my new campaign!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6115158635247617532?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6115158635247617532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6115158635247617532' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6115158635247617532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6115158635247617532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-most-brilliant-idea-ever.html' title='My Most Brilliant Idea Ever'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S7Ak58HwWwI/AAAAAAAAAYg/3OqN2Rxm5NM/s72-c/Anthony.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1823382826971167758</id><published>2010-01-08T22:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T22:30:46.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Should I be offended or just confused?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I sent a message to students from Blackboard, a system provided by the University.  Normally, Blackboard also sends a copy to my work e-mail address, also provided by the University.  However, yesterday, I noticed that I didn't get a copy of the Blackboard message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What possibly could have happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple answer:  my message from me to me, had been relegated to the Junk Mail file. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My e-mail account thinks I'm junk!  I'm no different than the off-shore schemers who claim to be ready to deposit millions of dollars into  my bank account and the peddlers of male enhancement products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm confused--and offended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1823382826971167758?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1823382826971167758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1823382826971167758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1823382826971167758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1823382826971167758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/01/should-i-be-offended-or-just-confused.html' title='Should I be offended or just confused?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8960872476920080993</id><published>2010-01-03T21:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T21:54:29.687-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Y'all come back now, ya hear?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S0FmIViPMCI/AAAAAAAAAYY/AXJP-w-zVwE/s1600-h/cowboys+star.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422727719736520738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S0FmIViPMCI/AAAAAAAAAYY/AXJP-w-zVwE/s200/cowboys+star.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all I've got to say to the Eagles. Somehow I don't think McNabb will be relishing his return visit to Dallas for the first play-off game. .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Truth be known, I don't have the kind of confidence in the 'boys like I did in the 1990s. It's hard to beat any NFL team 3 times in one season. And Tony Romo is no Troy Aikman or Roger Staubach. So the Eagles may have the last laugh when it's all said and done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm going to gloat while the gloatin' is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8960872476920080993?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8960872476920080993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8960872476920080993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8960872476920080993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8960872476920080993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2010/01/yall-come-back-now-ya-hear.html' title='Y&apos;all come back now, ya hear?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/S0FmIViPMCI/AAAAAAAAAYY/AXJP-w-zVwE/s72-c/cowboys+star.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2076366605590795227</id><published>2009-12-31T21:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T21:42:35.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Geico does it again</title><content type='html'>Who doesn't know that Geico sells insurance? Who doesn't know the Geico gekko? Who can't list, without a moment's hesitation, at least three of the company's recent campaigns? I think that's what you call successful advertising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love the newest campaign. The rhetorical question ads, especially the Charlie Daniels &lt;a href="http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNvaYr81iZo"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt;. Charlie Daniels has one of only two country songs I have on my iPod. "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." Great song. So it was pretty cool to see ole Charlie pop up when the Geico guy asks, "Does Charlie Daniels play a mean fiddle."  Tapping his foot, shredding the bow, fiddlin' away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how it's done, son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2076366605590795227?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2076366605590795227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2076366605590795227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2076366605590795227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2076366605590795227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/12/geico-does-it-again.html' title='Geico does it again'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-599580117968283739</id><published>2009-12-29T00:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T00:41:29.344-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids keep you young!</title><content type='html'>It's true what they say!  Consider:  on a typical night at the Boiler Household when the older kids are away, not a creature is stirring later than 11:30, including that mouse.  On weekends, maybe a little later, but not much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this Saturday night found us playing board games until 2:00 in the a.m.  Okay, so it might not have been like hitting the clubs into the wee hours of the morning, dancing the night away, but one should never be the old person in the club anyway.  And when we play board games, we all play like we've bet the house, all in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when we should have been taking our old Boiler-butts to bed, BoilerBaby 1 and I decided, "let's make crepes for tomorrow morning!"  And we did.  We could have waited, but I like to make the batter the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday morning, we meant to have a lazy Sunday, when, just like young people, we decided on the spur of the moment to spend the day in the Hill Country.  We'd planned to go later in the week and spend a couple of days, but BoilerHusband's work schedule unexpectedly took a change for the worse, so that Sunday was the only day we could all go.  So, we packed up the kids, gathered a few snacks, and off we went.  That was, after enjoying our very delicious crepes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Three and one-half hours later, we were standing at the top of Enchanted Rock.  A couple of hours later, we were walking the streets of Fredericksburg.  A little rock climbing and a little browsing can make one hungry.  Auslander was calling.  Battered + fried = delicious.  And that describes the mushrooms, and the jagerschnitzel.   Good stuff.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back home, we were tired, but feeling oh so young, at least for a little while.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-599580117968283739?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/599580117968283739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=599580117968283739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/599580117968283739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/599580117968283739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/12/kids-keep-you-young.html' title='Kids keep you young!'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2585430312421683084</id><published>2009-12-25T22:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T23:02:48.456-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='.'/><title type='text'>This Christmas</title><content type='html'>This Christmas, we . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Stayed home, and a good thing we did, given the travel nightmares as a result of the slow moving storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Had a "white Christmas" sort of, Waco-style, as a result of a slow moving storm.  It snowed on Christmas Eve!  So what that it didn't stick.  It was pretty, and the snow lasted longer than expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Enjoyed Christmas Eve services at church.  One of the best services ever, with many beautiful solos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Enjoyed dinner at IHOP after church.  It's nice to have everyone home again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Had a non-traditional meal.  Christmas lasagna.  A new tradition in the making?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Laughed and teased as we opened gifts.  The gifts were thoughtful.  Even BB3 outdid himself.  Not the usual run by the gift card display at HEB.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Had a wonderful Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2585430312421683084?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2585430312421683084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2585430312421683084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2585430312421683084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2585430312421683084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-christmas.html' title='This Christmas'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2165584000911990383</id><published>2009-10-06T09:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T10:22:58.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So many apps, so little time</title><content type='html'>The obsessing is over.  I got the iPhone--but not by choice.  My Blackberry died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not my fault that it got soaking wet at the football game on Saturday.  Rain happens, and I guess my Blackberry can't handle a little moisture.  Truth is, I might have helped it along a bit.  Instead of leaving it alone to dry out for several days, sans battery and sim card, I turned it on while still wet, quite probably short-circuiting it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  You live and learn.  I'll put it back together again in a day or so.  Who knows.  Maybe my old phone will have a miraculous recovery.  In the meantime, I have a new love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2165584000911990383?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2165584000911990383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2165584000911990383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2165584000911990383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2165584000911990383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-many-apps-so-little-time.html' title='So many apps, so little time'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5506542812910487246</id><published>2009-09-27T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T20:59:02.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To iPhone or Not?</title><content type='html'>That is the question. My Blackberry Pearl functions perfectly. I don't NEED a new phone, but I WANT an iPhone. And so I obsess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons to get a new phone.&lt;br /&gt;1. iPhones are really cool.&lt;br /&gt;2. I could get really cool apps like Black's Law Dictionary and the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.&lt;br /&gt;3. I want one.&lt;br /&gt;4. Professor Torts thinks I should.&lt;br /&gt;5. I can add educational apps for the younger BoilerBabies.  That would make me a good mother. 6. All the cool kids have iPhones.&lt;br /&gt;7. I'd be keeping pace with the older BoilerBabies.&lt;br /&gt;8. An iPhone would match my wardrobe.&lt;br /&gt;9. iPhones are really cool.&lt;br /&gt;10. I want one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons NOT to get a new phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Everybody has an iPhone. &lt;br /&gt;2. I don't want to be manipulated by AT&amp;amp;T.&lt;br /&gt;3. I don't need a new phone.&lt;br /&gt;4. There are children starving in Africa.  A new phone would be the height of triviality.&lt;br /&gt;5. I've lived 40-some years without an iPhone. I think life would go on if I didn't get one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! There are twice as many reasons to get a new phone as there reasons not to. So I stacked the deck. So what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'll continue to obsess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5506542812910487246?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5506542812910487246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5506542812910487246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5506542812910487246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5506542812910487246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-iphone-or-not.html' title='To iPhone or Not?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6113092977474278492</id><published>2009-09-27T20:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T21:58:20.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Old Man??</title><content type='html'>BoilerHusband reached a milestone:  he's 50!!!  A half-century.  One-twentieth of a millenium.  Ten times as old as a 5 year old; five times as old as a 10 year old.  Many men his age have grandchildren. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be biased, but I don't think he looks 50.  As long as he's clean shaven, no gray hair; minimal wrinkles; physcially active. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the question marks following "my old man"?  We've been married forever, so I guess that makes him mine.  No doubt he's a man.  But now that I think about it, he's not really old after all.  According to some who've already passed that mile marker, life begins at 50.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6113092977474278492?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6113092977474278492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6113092977474278492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6113092977474278492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6113092977474278492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-old-man.html' title='My Old Man??'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-11562076221295659</id><published>2009-09-24T19:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T20:15:52.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids won't jump from a moving car</title><content type='html'>Kids won't jump from a moving car, if for no other reason than self-preservation.  That's why the car provides the perfect place and time for all sorts of things involving the kids.  It's the perfect time to find out what's going on at school--who's going out with whom; what the wacky teachers have done most recently; etc.  It's the perfect time for having "The Talk."  There's no better time to find out what's bothering the kids or their opinions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valuable time.  Time that ends too soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I see kids in cars with their eyes glued to the DVD player, I want to shout, "Why are you wasting such valuable time???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a problem with the car dvd players in general--we have a portable system that we use for long trips, but come on.   Just wait until the kids (and their friends) start to drive.  We learned when our older kids started how much we missed that time we were confined to the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what prompted this rant?  The kid who sat in his mom's car, watching a DVD on an afternoon when the weather was near perfect.   An older sibling was at soccer practice, at a park with a cool playground.  Yet another example of time wasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just becoming an old fogey, and a preachy one at that, but kids grow up too fast to sacrifice time unnecessarily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-11562076221295659?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/11562076221295659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=11562076221295659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/11562076221295659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/11562076221295659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/whats-wrong-with-this-picture.html' title='Kids won&apos;t jump from a moving car'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2398029612540481590</id><published>2009-09-22T21:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:30:25.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in kindergarten</title><content type='html'>Breaking news from Mrs. B's kindergarten class!  As reported by BB4, one of the kids stuck a pencil in her ear, and broke off a piece of lead far enough in her ear that the school had to call her mommy to pick her up.  My source reported that that the victim (perpetrator??) is NEVER coming back to school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh that I could have such excitement.  Then again, there's a reason I'm not an elementary ed teacher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2398029612540481590?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2398029612540481590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2398029612540481590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2398029612540481590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2398029612540481590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-in-kindergarten.html' title='Adventures in kindergarten'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7997181849614911790</id><published>2009-09-20T14:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T19:23:54.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Should Walmart be held liable for the harm it did in reporting suspected child abuse? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Weekend/parents-sue-wal-mart-children-bath-time-photos/comments?type=story&amp;amp;id=8622696"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; bothers me.  Apparently innocent pictures of children at bathtime should not result in child protective services removing children from their home and putting them into foster care for a month.  If those are truly grounds for taking children out of their home, then I guess we were vulnerable.  Like many families, we have cutesy pictures of our children at bath time. I don't believe any of our pictures show any of the kids' genitals--we got them developed at a time when we still used 35 mm film with no problems.  But I suppose that in the mind of  someone hypersensitive to child pornography, they might have tried to make the case for child abuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm guessing that Walmart will settle because the story will likely engender more negative publicity than even Walmart can tolerate.  If the case does proceed to trial, I doubt that Walmart will be held liable.   The photo clerk's good judgement gauge might be off, but the report doesn't appear to have been malicious.  If state law doesn't provide qualified immunity for the report, I'm guessing that a court will create some exception that absolves Walmart from liability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, the real problem is with the local child protective services agency.  CPS is vested with the power of the state to take children out of their home, away from everything they know and love.  It traumatizes the children.  We can justify the trauma when there actually has been abuse or when there are solid grounds to suspect abuse or neglect of one kind or another.  But there is no justification when CPS workers take children on only the flimsiest evidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CPS should have investigated.  The workers have to question the family.  And given that a wrong decision can have serious consequences, I understand the CPS practice of erring on the side of caution.  But did CPS really need to remove the children from the home in order to conduct the investigation?  Did it really take a month to determine that the pictures were simply the kind of pictures the family will pull out to embarrass their girls as they age?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A troubling case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7997181849614911790?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7997181849614911790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7997181849614911790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7997181849614911790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7997181849614911790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/should-walmart-be-held-liable-for-harm.html' title=''/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7628145533759881271</id><published>2009-09-19T19:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T19:59:52.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait til next week</title><content type='html'>I should have known the karma wasn't right for the Baylor/UConn game today.  Running out of Lemon Chill barely half-way through the game was a bad sign. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that the Bears had two trunovers less than 90 seconds into the second half was probably another bad omen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. The kids had fun.  We all had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learned for today:   Get the Lemon Chill early.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7628145533759881271?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7628145533759881271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7628145533759881271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7628145533759881271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7628145533759881271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/wait-til-next-week.html' title='Wait til next week'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4122741477104564591</id><published>2009-09-17T21:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T22:15:59.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An edgier Project Runway?</title><content type='html'>The designs are supposed to be edgy, but the designers brought their knives for this week's episode.  Not the most original challenge--design with newspaper?  We did that as a rush event back in the day.  But there was enough entertainment from backstabbing.  Everyone (but Shirin) thinks Shirin talks too much.   Everyone (but Johnny)  is just plain tired of him, and that includes Tim.  Nicholas attempted to throw Johnny under the bus, right before the judges threw Nicholas under the bus, likening his dress to an insect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even Heidi wasn't immune from the snark.  Eva Longorria Parker condescendingly  explained that, "Tommy doesn't iron, honey"  and then cackled madly when Heidi questioned Tommy Hilfilger about how much a steam iron could have spit on Johnny's dress.  Let's see if Mrs. Parker gets invited back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when it was all said and done, Johnny suffered the fatal blow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons to be learned:  don't lie and don't do crossword puzzles when there's work to be done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4122741477104564591?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4122741477104564591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4122741477104564591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4122741477104564591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4122741477104564591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/which-came-first.html' title='An edgier Project Runway?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6074401926042829711</id><published>2009-09-16T20:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T20:48:34.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Jackson is timeless; I'm just old</title><content type='html'>BB3's slumber party was Friday.  It has taken me this long to recover.  Ten giggling, squealing 9 and 10 year olds, overtaking the house.  BoilerHusband, a veteran of past festivities, escaped with BB4 before the first guest arrived.  Too bad for them.  They missed the scavenger hunt.  They missed decorating the t-shirts.  They missed pizza, grapes, popcorn, puppy chow, soda, lemonade, and who knows what else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, they missed dancing to Billie Jean and Thriller in glow-in-the-dark t-shirts with glow sticks.   At least half of the girls knew most of the words to songs recorded years before they were born.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I don't think that the boys thought that they missed anything.  They certainly didn't miss their sleep.   I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6074401926042829711?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6074401926042829711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6074401926042829711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6074401926042829711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6074401926042829711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/michael-jackson-is-timeless.html' title='Michael Jackson is timeless; I&apos;m just old'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6966847143918171771</id><published>2009-09-08T21:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T10:57:25.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, BB3</title><content type='html'>Today, BoilerBaby 3 celebrated her birthday. One child and her new family celebrate. One mother cries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if BB3's birth mother is sad today because she is not able to hold her baby and celebrate another milestone with her, but I wouldn't be surprised if she shed a few tears. I understand that that is often the case with birth mothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I laugh with my children, hug my children, and even fuss at my children, I often am reminded how fortunate I am that I have them. Days like today remind me of the courage it takes to give up one's child for adoption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, we celebrate, but I suspect that someone quietly cries.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6966847143918171771?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6966847143918171771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6966847143918171771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6966847143918171771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6966847143918171771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-birthday-bb3.html' title='Happy Birthday, BB3'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3601776806695241129</id><published>2009-09-03T20:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:19:51.352-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Wary of Barry</title><content type='html'>Did you hear about Pres. Obama's latest ploy? You simply can't trust those Ivy League-trained liberals, trying to spread their socialist agenda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not this time Presiden BO. Not in my back yard or in my kid's classroom. You will not indoctrinate our children with your message to school children that says:&lt;br /&gt;1. Take responsibility for your education.&lt;br /&gt;2. Work hard in school.&lt;br /&gt;3. Set goals for your education.&lt;br /&gt;4. Be responsible for learning.&lt;br /&gt;5. Students, parents, and teachers must all take responsibility for your learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That kind of anti-American talk could get a president impeached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heck, the next thing you know, Obama will be telling our good red-blooded American children that anyone can be president, even a African-American born in "Hawaii."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3601776806695241129?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3601776806695241129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3601776806695241129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3601776806695241129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3601776806695241129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-so-dastardly-conniving-barack-obama.html' title='Be Wary of Barry'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8267416866329003528</id><published>2009-08-30T18:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:21:35.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Sayings and Observations in the Airport</title><content type='html'>1. If you're Stedman Graham, traveling from Waco to Chicago, when you land at DFW, you need not bother to walk four gates to catch the Skylink, like the rest of us mere commoners. Rather, a nicely dressed woman will meet you as you get off the plane and accompany you to the golf cart that will drive you to the Sklylink escalator. She will continue to accompany you to the departure gate, giving you acccess to your first class seat even earlier than the other first class passengers. I know this because Stedman was on my flights to Chicago this past Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. "Two weddings!" That's what it means to have two girls, approximately 15 months apart in age. That's what I overheard the young mother of the two girls exclaim during her conversation with another young mother. Not, "two college tuitions!" Not, "Two doctors in the house!"  Rather, "Two weddings!" Guess she's more traditional than me. Guess she has different expectations for her girls than I have for mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. "That means you have to bend over 36 times!" What? What could the gentleman who uttered these words possibly be talking about? Golf, of course. His point was that during two rounds of golf, 18 holes each, the player would have to bend over 36 times to retrieve his ball. Why make this point? Unfortunately (fortunately?) I don't know. I missed eavesdropping on that part of the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's enough for one trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8267416866329003528?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8267416866329003528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8267416866329003528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8267416866329003528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8267416866329003528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-sayings-and-observations-in.html' title='Random Sayings and Observations in the Airport'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1025614662080540334</id><published>2009-08-27T21:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:22:43.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you smarter than a Project Runway contestant?</title><content type='html'>The challenge this week: design something for the very pregnant Rebecca Romijn, who's carrying twins. Fine. I think that's called "maternity wear." But, not on PR. They keep referring to it as a "pregnancy outfit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is "maternity" too big of a word? Too many syllables? Too Latin? If Tim Gunn can use "viscera", as in, "If it doesn't feel right in the &lt;em&gt;viscera. . .", &lt;/em&gt;then surely we can call it what it is: maternity clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sayin'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1025614662080540334?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1025614662080540334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1025614662080540334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1025614662080540334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1025614662080540334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/are-you-smarter-than-project-runway.html' title='Are you smarter than a Project Runway contestant?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2848477179981496757</id><published>2009-08-24T20:35:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T16:19:10.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things change?</title><content type='html'>Then, it was the Coca Cola Starplex.&lt;br /&gt;Now it's the Superpages.com Center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was "My Girl."&lt;br /&gt;Now it's "Love Hurts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was the Temptations.&lt;br /&gt;Now it's Incubus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The difference in my concert-going days in Dallas some 20 years ago and BB2's concert this past weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the Incubus set ended with Prince's "Let's Go Crazy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more things change, the more they stay the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2848477179981496757?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2848477179981496757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2848477179981496757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2848477179981496757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2848477179981496757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/then-it-was-coca-cola-starplex.html' title='Things change?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7883444218522200050</id><published>2009-08-21T23:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:28:46.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Emptier nest</title><content type='html'>My nest is growing emptier. Tonight marks the last night that all of the chicks will be roosting in the nest. BB1 leaves tomorrow; BB2 leaves on Sunday. BBs 3 and 4 will still be here of course. But I am growing a bit melancholy in a way that I wasn't when BB1 left for college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a difference when there are two children in college as compared to one. If there's only one, when that one comes home for the weekend or holidays, the family is likely to be complete again. With two off to new horizons, one coming home for Fall break or a spontaneous weekend visit may mean we are still incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the new reality. Kids aren't supposed to live in their childhood bedrooms for the rest of their lives. They are supposed to fly the coop. And at this point, two of the four are still fully here and the other two aren't entirely independent. But I'm not sure I like this taste of things to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7883444218522200050?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7883444218522200050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7883444218522200050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7883444218522200050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7883444218522200050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/emptier-nest.html' title='Emptier nest'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4210129941079430715</id><published>2009-08-21T10:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T10:48:01.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Major Dilemma</title><content type='html'>Substance or fluff?  Politics or fashion?  Heidi or Chet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a dilemma I faced when Chet Edwards selected the night of the Project Runway premier to host his telephone town hall on health care.   Ours was one of the 200,000 households randomly selected to listen in on the health care debate.  I got the call just minutes before PR's All Star Challenge was set to begin.  Whatever would I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how I wanted to be serious.  Oh, how important knowledge is to me.  Oh, how I love catty reality TV dressed up to look like it requires intelligence and talent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did I do?  I love life in the technical age.  I recorded PR and listened in on the town hall.  Problem solved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4210129941079430715?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4210129941079430715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4210129941079430715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4210129941079430715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4210129941079430715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/major-dilemma.html' title='A Major Dilemma'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5292213682531658561</id><published>2009-08-01T18:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:31:25.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not Barbie</title><content type='html'>BoilerBaby2 has an ex-roommate, and move-in day is still weeks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely, that must be a world record? A national record? A state record? Either way, here's how it went down: the mother of BoilerBaby's now ex-roommate called him and asked that BoilerBaby 2 switch rooms with her son's best friend because they really wanted to room together. According to Barbie, it'd only be switching to the room next door. Yes, I did write that the ex-roomie's &lt;em&gt;mother &lt;/em&gt;called. And yes, I did write that the two best friends were only going to be separated by a wall. But I guess they need to breathe the same air. And yes, the mom's real name is "Barbie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a lot wrong with this, in my opinion. Why is the kid's mother calling for him? Is he incapable of working his own i-Phone? Did he know that his mommy is taking care of things for him? Is his mommy going to tuck him each night? Do his laundry each weekend? Ask his profs for extensions on his assignments?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is Barbie calling my son? Scared of talking directly with me as opposed to an 18 year old boy?  What kind of reputation do I have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's all said and done, we've had great fun with this. I'm convinced that Barbie is the prototype of the "helicopter mom" who will likely tuck her little pumpkin in each night and have warm cookies and cold milk waiting after a hard day at college.   BoilerBaby 2 keeps asking for little favors and reminding me that Barbie would probably do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BoilerBaby 2 agreed to the switch.  Probably a good move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5292213682531658561?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5292213682531658561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5292213682531658561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5292213682531658561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5292213682531658561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-record.html' title='I&apos;m not Barbie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8488839733723112033</id><published>2009-07-11T22:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T19:37:42.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Middle Class Ghetto?</title><content type='html'>The ants go marching one-by-one, hurrah, hurrah&lt;br /&gt;The ants go marching one-by-one, hurrah, hurrah&lt;br /&gt;The ants go marching one-by-one,&lt;br /&gt;The little one stops to pick up his GUN . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What??? That's not the way I learned the song. It is the way BoilerBaby 4 sang it tonight. Where did he learn that??? His answer (logically) was, "it rhymes!" Okay, but we don't do guns at our house--at least we try to limit the gun-talk, although no mother of a son could ever expect 100% success. Either way, where did he come up with this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a period of time, BoilerBaby 2 went through his "ghetto" phase. He talked in a way that made it sound like, in his opinion, he was from the 'hood." He and his other pampered pals thought they were so cool. BoilerHusband and I, having actually grown up in the 'hood, could only roll our eyes and suggest that he not pull that outside of his prep school--it wouldn't end well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8488839733723112033?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8488839733723112033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8488839733723112033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8488839733723112033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8488839733723112033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/07/middle-class-ghetto.html' title='Middle Class Ghetto?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7724292100600875295</id><published>2009-06-23T20:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T20:36:58.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kodak Moments</title><content type='html'>As much news as there is in the world, every news site and every morning news show reported on the breakup of Jon and Kate of &lt;em&gt;Jon &amp;amp; Kate Plus Eight&lt;/em&gt;  fame.  Until earlier this year, I'd never heard of them.  For the past 93 weeks (or maybe the last 7 or so), they've been on the cover of &lt;em&gt;Us &lt;/em&gt;Magazine.  Their claim to fame?  Their giving birth to one set of twins and one set of sextuplets (hence the "eight") and their willingness to allow TV cameras into their lives.  EdTV for real.  Now they're divorcing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What may have been a good idea at first--a professional album ofthe children's early lives--the fun, the chaos, the challenges, and the triumphs-- far more complete than what most kids will ever have, will now be the proof of what used to be and how it all ended on the junk heap of the divorce court.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7724292100600875295?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7724292100600875295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7724292100600875295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7724292100600875295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7724292100600875295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/06/kodak-moments.html' title='Kodak Moments'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6370016747931925340</id><published>2009-06-22T22:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:35:28.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blast from the Past</title><content type='html'>Every now and then, there are those reminders of the past, and why living in the present is a good thing. I heard on the radio the 80s classic &lt;em&gt;The Rain, &lt;/em&gt;by Oran Juice Jones. The sound ofthe 70s, updated to the 80s, with a cheating girlfriend, who is "cold busted." What lyrics: "I saw you (and &lt;em&gt;him!) &lt;/em&gt;walking in the rain. You were holding hands and I'll never be the same."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living in the new millenium means YouTube and iTunes. I can buy the song for 99 cents if I want, or better yet, I can watch the music &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8utL-XzOp6g"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt;! Wow! Eighties hair; 80s attire; 80s dance moves. It looks funny now, but it was the jam back then, in an era BBB.* Fond memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Before BoilerBabies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6370016747931925340?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6370016747931925340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6370016747931925340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6370016747931925340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6370016747931925340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/06/blast-from-past.html' title='Blast from the Past'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5615737786440638487</id><published>2009-06-21T22:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:42:30.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality or Reality TV?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, MSBNC ran a &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31465261/"&gt;story &lt;/a&gt;about Pres. Obama's outing with his daughters to get frozen custard.  Sweet story, yet there were some &lt;a href="http://world-news.newsvine.com/_news/2009/06/20/2951845-obama-and-daughters-snack-on-frozen-custard#comments"&gt;snarky comments&lt;/a&gt; questioning the newsworthiness of this article.   Hm-m-m.  There is a lot going in Iran.  Plus, the economy is still in the tank and   people are losing their jobs and their homes.  Maybe the critics have a point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait!  This is Father's Weekend.  And it beats the heck out of yet one more story about Jon and Kate and their big break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a lot going on in the world.  A fluff piece on the normalcy of the Obama family is a welcome diversion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5615737786440638487?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5615737786440638487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5615737786440638487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5615737786440638487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5615737786440638487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/06/reality-or-reality-tv.html' title='Reality or Reality TV?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4647212239981970544</id><published>2009-06-20T19:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T22:39:18.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kissing Cousins</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;BB4:&lt;/strong&gt; Mommy, I have something to whisper in your ear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; It's not polite to whisper when other people are around. You can tell me later if you want.&lt;br /&gt;[BB4 wiggles, and is clearly about to burst with his "secret."]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BB4:&lt;/strong&gt; Mommy, please can I whisper a secret in your ear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; You can tell me later.&lt;br /&gt;[BB4 becomes more anxious. He's just gotta tell!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BB4:&lt;/strong&gt; (stage whisper): Mommy, I kissed Boiler Cousin TD! [pause for effect] On the lips!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt;: Oh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BB4:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah! Two times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BB4: &lt;/strong&gt;Tell Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say you never forget your first kiss. I don't know if that will hold true for BoilerBaby4, but we'll never forget it. The details? The date: June 6, 2009 (so I'm a little late in memorializing it). The place: our sunroom. The kissing buddy: First Cousin TD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all of the fam, including the cousins, in for BoilerBaby 2's HS graduation, there was much activity in the house. It struck no one as particularly odd that the 5 year old cousins were playing well together in the sun room--they were born only weeks apart and get along quite well, notwithstanding that they see each other only a few times a year at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a night. BoilerBaby 4 went from wanting to whisper his secret to encouraging me to share his news with his father and everyone else, for that matter. He was quite thrilled and dare I say, proud, of his feat. It was all very sweet, and of course, leaves me with a story to trot out for BoilerBaby 4's graudation!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4647212239981970544?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4647212239981970544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4647212239981970544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4647212239981970544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4647212239981970544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/06/kissing-cousins.html' title='Kissing Cousins'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7617459645149973290</id><published>2009-06-19T19:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:11:52.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Goes On</title><content type='html'>A new year, a new president, a new attitude? Probably not on the last one, but who knows? Maybe I'll surprise myself! Maybe I'll get back to posting. Actually, maybe it's just the same old attitude: it's all about me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7617459645149973290?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7617459645149973290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7617459645149973290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7617459645149973290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7617459645149973290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2009/06/life-goes-on.html' title='Life Goes On'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3630171290636889707</id><published>2008-12-25T23:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T01:20:04.877-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A rather unusual Christmas</title><content type='html'>'Twas the morning of Christmas, and all through the house.  Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse--at least not until about 8 a.m., with the youngest BoilerBaby not arising until a leisurely 9:30 a.m.  That was the first sign that this Christmas might be a bit different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We we did everything pretty much the same as most other years, but with very different results.  The fam opened up their "surprise" Christmas pajamas on Christmas Eve, but we didn't take the pajama pic until this morning.   When everyone finally did arise, our breakfast of &lt;em&gt;churros con chocolate, &lt;/em&gt;courtesy of BoilerBaby 1, and breakfast tacos, by Chef BoilerBaby 2, pushed back the gift thing until at least 11 a.m.  We took our time opening gifts, savoring our smaller Christmas.   Final dinner prep didn't really begin until 1 p.m.  As of 3 p.m., 50% of the BoilerFam was still attired in Christmas pjs.   Doesn't really matter who, but it was just that kind of day.  The fact that this year we went no where and kept Christmas all in the family made it no big deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was good and the conversation good, including the walk down memory lane of some of BoilerBaby2's antics from his childhood--there were many.  We rounded out the day with a few games of killer Blokus, one of the family gifts.   We are a competitive family, and by the second game, it was all out war.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some oddities:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--BoilerBaby 2 got nothing that required electricity or batteries.&lt;br /&gt;--Everybody else did.&lt;br /&gt;--BoilerBaby 2 was the official photographer, and had great fun acting like a paparazzi (I don't see a career in photography in his future).&lt;br /&gt;--as of midnight, everyone in the BoilerFamily was awake and going strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a blessed day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3630171290636889707?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3630171290636889707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3630171290636889707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3630171290636889707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3630171290636889707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/rather-unusual-christmas.html' title='A rather unusual Christmas'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7650854509504484808</id><published>2008-12-22T11:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T11:30:13.881-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything old is new again??</title><content type='html'>When I was a schoolgirl, I was such a geek! Yeah, I liked to climb trees, ride my bike, and play, "the boogey man's gonna get you" with my friends, but in my mind, there was little better than a day off from school and morning filled with game shows. Back in the day, the game shows would start at 9:00 and last until about noon when the soaps would start. &lt;em&gt;Split Second, The Joker's Wild, The Price is Right, The $10,000 Pyramid &lt;/em&gt;(before inflation made it &lt;em&gt;The $100,000 Pyramid) &lt;/em&gt;and of course, &lt;em&gt;Password.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good stuff, so I was pretty excited when I saw the promos for the new &lt;em&gt;Million Dollar Password.   &lt;/em&gt;I had to watch!  Was it what I expected??  Well, yes and no.  The rules are basically the same, although the new format makes the game move lots faster.  There's still the risk of a lame celebrity losing the game for the contestant.  But. . . what happened to the guy who used to say in the deep whisper, "The password is 'cantankerous' or whatever the word was.  It made the password really seem like a true secret because you knew something that no one in the studio knew except AllenLudden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess with the top payoff being $1 million, there just wasn't enough money to hire that guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7650854509504484808?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7650854509504484808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7650854509504484808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7650854509504484808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7650854509504484808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/everything-old-is-new-again.html' title='Everything old is new again??'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7702515434987684881</id><published>2008-12-16T23:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:26:20.112-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Makes Me Hungry</title><content type='html'>Ever so often, I like to check out a blog that I found by happenstance.   The blog is written by a New York foodie, who, as the blog name implies, sorely misses Texas.   I believe she is a food photographer, and she takes beautiful pictures of mouthwatering food, often posting a recipe for the pictured item.  Just looking at the picture at this &lt;a href="http://homesicktexan.blogspot.com/2007/07/imperfect-but-still-scrumptious-scoop.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; or this &lt;a href="http://homesicktexan.blogspot.com/2007/12/praise-pralines.html"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt; makes me so-o-o hungry.  The next time I'm in New York, I've got to get me some champurrado--or maybe I should give the &lt;a href="http://homesicktexan.blogspot.com/2008/12/cup-of-champurrado.html"&gt;recipe &lt;/a&gt;a try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7702515434987684881?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7702515434987684881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7702515434987684881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7702515434987684881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7702515434987684881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-makes-me-hungry.html' title='It Makes Me Hungry'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5034135259825993217</id><published>2008-12-12T18:02:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T19:13:08.775-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging Jeopardy</title><content type='html'>I leave town for a couple of days and what happens?? I fall behind on my Jeopardy! viewing. And so, the Jeopardy! marathon! Would Geoff Moore repeat or be just another flash in the pan? Day 2 of the GM run, Moore was quite impressive--winning $37,200. Ah . . . that Baylor education is truly money in the bank. And the marathon continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3 begins. Geoff got beaten to the buzzer on the first clue, notwithstanding that the category was "Movie Title Adjectives." The first clue was "________ Saddles." Barb rang in lightning fast with a perky, "What is Blazing?" Geoff got off to a bit of a slow start, but as has been the case the first two days, he was strong through both rounds. The low point of the show was when Alex got all three players to agree that of course the music group ABBA would want him to join the band based on his reading of the ABBA lyrics. Come on Geoff! There's no sucking up at Baylor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, Geoff went into Final Jeopardy ahead. Did he emerge victorious?? Aa-a-a-g-g-h-h-h! Only the first player got the right answer. The second place guy missed the clue, but made a very small bet. Geoff missed it too, but went big. So, alas, some guy who had a propensity to jump up and down, won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5034135259825993217?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5034135259825993217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5034135259825993217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5034135259825993217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5034135259825993217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/blogging-jeopardy.html' title='Blogging Jeopardy'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7807387132958179108</id><published>2008-12-09T21:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:51:37.820-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drive-thru chuch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST88tWI9YuI/AAAAAAAAARA/5bDkktda6q8/s1600-h/drive+through+church.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278004038036447970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 94px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST88tWI9YuI/AAAAAAAAARA/5bDkktda6q8/s200/drive+through+church.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was driving down the highway when a big banner on a church caught my attention: 30 Minute Church Service. That was the selling point. A total of 10,080 minutes in a week, and the selling point is one need devote only 30 minutes, a mere .003% of the week to worshiping?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was just about to climb on my high horse when I remembered that the church service at my church is only an hour. If the service runs beyond the 60 minutes, people start to squirm, particularly if it's a Sunday when the Cowboys play the early game or the Lady Bears have a basketball game. So while I could spin it to smugly note that we worship twice as long as the people who attend the 300minute service, it still amounts to only 006% of the week. As one of my good friends, who attends church for at least two hours each Sunday, likes to say, we've got that quickie church. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose even 30 minutes (or 60 minutes) spent in worship is better than spending those 30 minutes sleeping, golfing, reading the Sunday New York Times, but there's just something about &lt;em&gt;advertising&lt;/em&gt; a particularly short service. What's next? Drive-thru church? Oh wait. That already exists.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7807387132958179108?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7807387132958179108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7807387132958179108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7807387132958179108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7807387132958179108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/drive-thru-chuch.html' title='Drive-thru chuch'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST88tWI9YuI/AAAAAAAAARA/5bDkktda6q8/s72-c/drive+through+church.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4119705718657280814</id><published>2008-12-08T19:53:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:28:17.929-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baylor knocks off Amherst! (And Babs is everywhere)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST3TssZ_bGI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/38dblywqg2I/s1600-h/baylor+bear+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277607103135968354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST3TssZ_bGI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/38dblywqg2I/s200/baylor+bear+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Would this be a reference to football? Basketball? Wii Bowling? No!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jeopardy! Yes, that's right. Geoff Moore, Baylor alum, who during his interview with Alex, talked about being one of the bear trainers for the Baylor Chamber, emerged victorious in today's episode, defeating Amherst student and four-time champion, Ben Bishop. Bishop was a four-time champion who had amassed some $114,000. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Geoff went into Final Jeopardy ahead. Ben, who'd thus far been pretty impressive, missed giving the correct "question", which was "Who is Barbra Streisand?" But the minute Alex announced the Final Jeopardy category--Actor/Directors--I knew that Geoff, now a LA screenwriter, had the edge. And sure 'nuff, he answered correctly and then raised his hand in a bear claw, leading Alex in a round of "sic 'em Bears." Okay, no he didn't, but he should have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As to Babs, how fitting that the day after she and GW Bush traded "un beso" (evidence that I did learn some Spanish during my recent visit to Granada), she would appear in the Final Jeopardy question.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4119705718657280814?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4119705718657280814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4119705718657280814' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4119705718657280814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4119705718657280814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/baylor-knocks-off-amherst-and-babs-is.html' title='Baylor knocks off Amherst! (And Babs is everywhere)'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/ST3TssZ_bGI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/38dblywqg2I/s72-c/baylor+bear+5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8125663160831478584</id><published>2008-12-07T14:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T14:53:49.273-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future of labor unions, particularly, the UAW</title><content type='html'>The Big 3 American auto companies are in desparate financial condition.  If GM's CEO is to be believed, GM is at risk of going bankrupt if it doesn't get help fast.  So, who's to blame?  The anti-union crowd, mostly conservatives, want to blame unions.  But the answer can't be that simple.  With a companies as old and complex as any of the the automakers, there are too many elements that went into making the companies successful when they were kings of the hill and that have now coalesced to put them on the brink of financial disaster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the UAW has insisted on huge hourly wages for essentially unskilled labor.  The unions have negotatiated collective bargaining agreements that create specialized jobs that can be done by only certain workers, diminishing the flexibility of the auto companies to simply get the job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the simple fact is that there is plenty of blame to go around:  the execs who failed to develop fuel efficient cars or to design and build cars that matched the reliability of the Japanese cars to start.  And let's not forget American consumers who demanded their pick-up trucks and SUVs (this consumer included).  Detroit gave us what we wanted.  Gas was relatively cheap, so that unlike many other parts of the world, where SUVs are a rarity, Hummers and Excursions ruled our roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UAW did what all unions are supposed to do:  get the best wages and working conditions they can for their members.   It was the UAW's duty to seek top wages and the best retirement plans, as well as the best health care plans and working conditions it could get.  To put it another way, the UAW did what every party to a contract does:  looks out for its own best interest.  That's true of every union--and every executive, who negotiated multi-million dollar compensation packages--and collected their paychecks religiously, even when their companies were bleeding money.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UAW has already shown signs of granting concessions, as well it must.  The future of the UAW is quite obviously dependent on the survival of the automakers, and like any organization, the UAW will experience a paradigm shift to ensure its continued existence.  I  expect that Congress will work out a bail-out package for the companies and that everyone with an interest in the automakers will have to concede in ways they might have never imagined.  In the end, the UAW will survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8125663160831478584?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8125663160831478584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8125663160831478584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8125663160831478584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8125663160831478584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/future-of-labor-unions-particularly-uaw.html' title='The Future of labor unions, particularly, the UAW'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6507509673111524624</id><published>2008-12-05T21:23:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:23:01.068-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye OJ!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STntx2sYZ7I/AAAAAAAAAQw/uwM2xgv3gtA/s1600-h/go+to+jail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276509879192283058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STntx2sYZ7I/AAAAAAAAAQw/uwM2xgv3gtA/s200/go+to+jail.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lightning doesn't often strike twice, and it didn't happen here. OJ might have beat the rap on the murder charges 14 years ago, but he didn't beat the rap this time. While the judge didn't exactly throw the book at him, she did send him off to jail for at least 9 years--and that assumes he gets parole when he's first eligible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I was stupid." So says OJ. Really?? How pathetic. The man who had everything, personality, athletic ability, looks, and enough acting talent to generate big bucks now joins the ranks of others like him who ended up in jail. Bye OJ. Give my regards to Michael Vick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6507509673111524624?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6507509673111524624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6507509673111524624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6507509673111524624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6507509673111524624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/bye-oj.html' title='Bye OJ!'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STntx2sYZ7I/AAAAAAAAAQw/uwM2xgv3gtA/s72-c/go+to+jail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3523639365023895529</id><published>2008-12-05T20:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T20:52:28.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Diamond Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STno4KakYWI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EJhLVMYKVZo/s1600-h/champagne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276504490007355746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 85px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STno4KakYWI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EJhLVMYKVZo/s200/champagne.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prohibition ended 75 years ago. I think that's a cause for celebration. Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3523639365023895529?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3523639365023895529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3523639365023895529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3523639365023895529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3523639365023895529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/diamond-anniversary.html' title='The Diamond Anniversary'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/STno4KakYWI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EJhLVMYKVZo/s72-c/champagne.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5109260033614475396</id><published>2008-12-04T22:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T22:50:14.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace on Earth</title><content type='html'>Here we go again.  The battle over "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays."  It's bad enough that anyone would spend time on such a trivial matter.  It's even worse that Christians would insist on "Merry Christmas" when there is so much Christian work of importance to do, which might actually serve to spread the gospel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone were to ask me, I'd say, how 'bout just remembering that this is the season for peace on earth, goodwill towards men.  Rather than becoming combative about "Happy Holidays", maybe we should seek peace and spread a little goodwill.  Just a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5109260033614475396?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5109260033614475396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5109260033614475396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5109260033614475396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5109260033614475396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/12/peace-on-earth.html' title='Peace on Earth'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2039604340466031681</id><published>2008-11-25T19:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:36:33.763-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Put me in, Coach!</title><content type='html'>"If my coach says to go in, I'll go in.  If he says to come out, I'll come out; and if I forget anything, he'll yell at me."  So says BoilerBaby 4, as he gets ready for basketball season.  I think he's ready for the big show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2039604340466031681?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2039604340466031681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2039604340466031681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2039604340466031681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2039604340466031681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/11/put-me-in-coach.html' title='Put me in, Coach!'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2001215806378311747</id><published>2008-11-23T22:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T23:05:05.510-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So there weren't any aliens after all</title><content type='html'>Just another Saturday night at home with the fam, when the loud, low rumble began, and went on. . . and on. . . and on. . .  At first, it seemed like just another night of helicopters and planes flying over head b/c GWB was at the Western White House.  But the rumble was too steady and stationary to be presidential security.  An earthquake?? Nah--no tremors.   Unable to identify it, it was pretty bizarre and a tad frightening.  I had visions of &lt;em&gt;Independence Day &lt;/em&gt;and an invasion by aliens; it was just that weird.  I was rather relieved when it ended several minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't alone in my my characterization of this odd event.  This morning, the freaky event was the topic of post-church chit-chat, as some described how they thought the world was coming to an end or that we were under attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what was it?  A rocket test gone awry.  At 10 o'clock at night.  With a bright glow, visible for miles around.  But of course, I knew nothing about the bright light--I wasn't going outside to let the aliens get me.   Either way, the company supposedly "warned" people of the test by placing something in the McGregor paper, given that the test occurred there.   Unfortunately, not even the people who live there read that paper, and since none of the people I spoke to live there, so much for the warning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never considered jumping from my window out of fear of the aliens.   But I sure hope that the next time a rocket test is planned, the company would be so kind as to make use of the &lt;em&gt;Trib &lt;/em&gt;or any of the local tv stations to give an effective warning.  Just a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2001215806378311747?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2001215806378311747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2001215806378311747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2001215806378311747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2001215806378311747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-there-werent-any-aliens-after-all.html' title='So there weren&apos;t any aliens after all'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3630108668288379073</id><published>2008-11-22T21:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T22:01:34.832-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Historic Autumn</title><content type='html'>I haven't written since the Democratic National Convention.  So much has happened.  There was the rise and ultimate fall of Sarah Palin, starting with her nomination basesd on the assumption that the voters who supported Hillary would automatically support a candidate who shared little in common with Mrs. Clinton in terms of political views, accomplishments, intelligence, or anything else that mattered.  Palin had better clothes than Hillary, but so does Paris Hilton.  Who knew that Katie Couric would play such a significant role in the demise of Sarah Palin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was the economic crisis, follwed by the "suspension" of John McCain's campaign just before the first presidential debate.  There were the three debates that occurred, with Obama taking all three according to the populace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was Joe the Plumber, I think.  I'm still not sure he wasn't a figment of my imagination.  He was the GOP's every man?  As Time put it, his name wasn't Joe and he wasn't a plumber, but the "the" seemed accurate.  That didn't stop him from appearing at McCain campaign rallies and giving his opinion on the fate of Israel should Obama be elected president.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was the nearly flawless campaign of Barack Obama, in which he captured the hearts and minds of enough of the electorate to result in his election to be the POTUS.  This has been even more unbelievable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hasn't been three weeks since election night, but the memory of that night will be burned indelibly on my memory.  I missed election day, having chosen that time to visit BoilerBaby 1 in Spain.  I voted early, as I could proudly confirm to all of the people in Spain who asked upon verifying my status as an American.  I fretted all day that Tuesday, wondering if the polls showing Obama leading were accurate.  Would people actually show up to vote, especially if it meant standing in line for perhaps hours?  Would the votes be counted accurately?  Would there be a repeat of the 2000 Florida debacle? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the time difference in Spain, it was excruciating waiting for voting to even begin.  BoilerBaby 1 and I spent that morning at the Alhambra and that night at a flamenco performance, which helped to take my mind off of the election some.  But that night, as we turned in for bed, the first returns were just coming in, and McCain was ahead in the electoral count.  We set the alarm to awake at 5 a.m. thinking that there might news by then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have waked everyone on the hotel floor when I turned the tv on and saw the "breaking news" that CNN had called the election for Obama.  McCain's concession speech was well-written and well-delivered.  From the moment Obama took the stage,  he looked and sounded presidential.  There was no triumphant pumping of his arms; there was no gloating;  there was Obama, fully cognizant of that moment in history and fully aware of the challenges that lay ahead.   It wasn't about Obama, but about the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was totally caught offguard by the response of the Granadiers to the election results.  From the florist to shopkeepers to random people on the street to BoilerBaby 1's host family, there was joy and excitement about Obama's election.  One shopkeeper came out of his shop to ask if we were Americans and to shout a gleeful Obama!!!  The florist described how he danced around his living room upon hearing the results.    It was incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an incredible time to be alive in America.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3630108668288379073?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3630108668288379073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3630108668288379073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3630108668288379073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3630108668288379073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/11/historic-autumn.html' title='A Historic Autumn'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7167727241290411356</id><published>2008-08-27T23:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T20:46:24.335-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DJ Needed.  Contact the DRC IMMEDIATELY!</title><content type='html'>What a slacker I am. But alas, life's busy. I have, however, found time to watch and mostly enjoy the Democratic National Convention. Michelle Obama and Hillary both rocked the house on their respective nights. I liked Kerry's speech.  There've been others that were good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a good, except for the music. What's up with that, especially tonight?  I was disturbed when shortly before President Clinton took the podium, I could hear Aretha Franklin's &lt;em&gt;Chain of Fools. What????&lt;/em&gt;   &lt;em&gt;Who???  &lt;/em&gt;I was a little slow to pick up that the so-called "chain of fools" was the Bush administration, something that had been touched on in the preceding speech. Still, not a wise music choice under the circumstances. Too subtle, by half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then came Bill. A decent, not great speech, followed by . . . &lt;em&gt;Addicted to Love.&lt;/em&gt; Are you kidding me? Only the first verse played, stopping just short of "you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love." But that didn't stop the crowd from voicing the lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, note to the DNC: you have four years to really give this music thing some thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7167727241290411356?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7167727241290411356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7167727241290411356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7167727241290411356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7167727241290411356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/08/dj-needed-contact-drc-immediately.html' title='DJ Needed.  Contact the DRC IMMEDIATELY!'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5176599593931677282</id><published>2008-07-10T08:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T08:35:06.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God, I'm a City Girl</title><content type='html'>There's a reason we don't live in the country.  We're not country people.  This past weekend is proof.  We had a nice weekend planned.  Saturday in Canton, shopping at First Monday trade days, and then hanging out a resort/ranch for some R&amp;amp;R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything went fine in Canton--it's still urban enough that we were in our element, plus it's shopping.  What an experience.  Part carnival/part flea market times 1000--everything is bigger in Texas.   We mostly looked, but found some good bargains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the ranch was another story.  We got hopelessly lost, spending nearly 90 minutes on what should have been a 15 minute drive.  It wasn't totally our fault.  Blame Google maps; blame the lady at the ranch; and blame the fact that the county apparently renamed all the little backroads that we needed to take to get to the ranch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The county renamed all of the roads, ostensibly to make it easier for emergency personnel to find their way around (wonder how that's working).  Of course, that screwed up Google maps, but that doesn't fully explain why Google maps was so off.  When we googled the name of the ranch, sure nuff, Google brought up an address, with driving directions to get there.  Unfortunately, the address was wrong, and the instructions landed us in some back woods some 20 miles from where we needed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Determined to get there, we finally called the ranch to get directions.  She gave us directions alright.  They would have been perfectly correct &lt;em&gt;if we'd been coming from the opposite direction!&lt;/em&gt;  Although we told her we were coming from Canton, she gave us directions as though we were coming from Dallas.  When she told us to turn right, we should have turned left.   She gave us the same [wrong] directions a second time when we called back, still lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, BoilerHusband sought directions from some shirtless old guy (he should have kept his shirt on; it wasn't pretty).  I was a little worried when BoilerHusband disappeared into Scratchy's garage for a time, since Scratchy (my name for him) could have been typecast in a movie on lynching.  But BoilerHusband indeed returned, armed with directions that turned out to be correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voila!  Scratchy to the rescue!  We found the ranch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should have left well enough alone thereafter.   Swimming in the pool was fun, but we can swim at home.   We wanted to go fishing in one of the many ponds at the ranch.  All was well until BoilerBaby2 found a perfect specimen of a praying mantis.  The younger BoilerBabies were intrigued, and so was I, until I felt the little stings that signalled that I was standing in a fire ant pile.  Aaagh!!  I was covered.  "Put your feet into the pond," I was advised.  Unfortunately, I understood that to mean, put your shoes into the pond.  In went one shoe, where it proceeded to float away from the edge, beyond my reach.  Now what?  No one could reach my shoe easily and I wanted my shoe back.  So, into the muddy pond I went, with a big stick, to retrieve my shoe.  Success, but I expected to go fishing for fish, not shoes.  And my shoe was the only thing we caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even going to recount the golf cart incident.  Suffice it to say that it involved a decline, a big bump, and two members of the Boiler Family who were on the golf cart, ending up on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole trip started to feel a little surreal--like we were in some weird show where Candid Camera meets reality tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a fun trip when it was all said and done, but it's good to be home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5176599593931677282?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5176599593931677282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5176599593931677282' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5176599593931677282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5176599593931677282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/07/thank-god-im-city-girl.html' title='Thank God, I&apos;m a City Girl'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-945052528409004066</id><published>2008-06-25T21:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T21:31:09.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this child abuse?</title><content type='html'>I saw snippets of the new reality show--did we really need another--called &lt;em&gt;The Baby Borrowers.  &lt;/em&gt;What an interesting premise, a twist on the old high school project where you you had to care for a sack of flour as though it were a baby, ensuring that your bag wasn't damaged and was otherwise cared for according to various assignments.  In the show, they used real babies!  Imagine that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As expected, the teens found that caring for a baby is hard work.  But as the babies cried and looked distressed, I couldn't help but wonder if this was fair to the babies.  Their parents were near by so maybe it was no different than a night out for the parents, but I'm sure if the babies could have talked, they might have said, "Are we having fun yet?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-945052528409004066?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/945052528409004066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=945052528409004066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/945052528409004066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/945052528409004066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/06/is-this-child-abuse.html' title='Is this child abuse?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5948047950827660652</id><published>2008-06-21T22:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T22:59:31.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a talented child</title><content type='html'>"You should have heard me.  I  burped like a dog!" So Boiilerbaby 4 announced.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I've ever heard a dog burp, but no doubt they do.   What was just  tad astounding was his clear pride at his accomplishment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep.  That surely earned him his apprentice Guy Card.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5948047950827660652?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5948047950827660652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5948047950827660652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5948047950827660652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5948047950827660652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-talented-child.html' title='What a talented child'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7509879544275153852</id><published>2008-06-17T19:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T19:24:27.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Must do better, must do better</title><content type='html'>I have been such a slacker about keeping up with this blog.  Must do better; must do better.  This is supposed to be my musings and record about what's happening at any given time.   Must do better; must do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just  reminded about how the circadian rhythyms of a college-aged child differ from those of real adults.  Last week, I suggested that since one of the Boilerbabies would be out of the fold on Father's Day, we get up early and all go to breakfast before the official day (key word, "early").  Boilerbaby 1's response, "I have to be at work at 11 a.m.!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be that age where 9 a.m. is the equivalent of the crack of dawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7509879544275153852?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7509879544275153852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7509879544275153852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7509879544275153852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7509879544275153852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/06/must-do-better-must-do-better.html' title='Must do better, must do better'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6180134597986666690</id><published>2008-05-11T17:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T17:39:34.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The best mother's day gift this year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCd0NJUkf5I/AAAAAAAAAQA/naVosna3-g0/s1600-h/FrostedMiniWheats_Cereal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199252064011845522" style="WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" height="200" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCd0NJUkf5I/AAAAAAAAAQA/naVosna3-g0/s200/FrostedMiniWheats_Cereal.jpg" width="168" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Having a 4 year-old in the house at gift-giving time always makes for a memorable holiday. First, there's the challenge to "keep the secret" about what my gift was. BoilerBaby 4 was about to burst with the secret he knew. He came close to telling me, but managed (just barely) to keep it in. It only took a reminder an hour to not tell. But to make Mother's Day especially special,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCd0NJUkf5I/AAAAAAAAAQA/naVosna3-g0/s1600-h/FrostedMiniWheats_Cereal.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BoilerBaby 4 picked the best gift, Frosted Mini-Wheats.  My own box!  Oh yeah, I'll be living large, enjoying my Frosted Mini-Wheats. Every mom should be so blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6180134597986666690?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6180134597986666690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6180134597986666690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6180134597986666690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6180134597986666690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/05/best-mothers-day-gift-this-year.html' title='The best mother&apos;s day gift this year'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCd0NJUkf5I/AAAAAAAAAQA/naVosna3-g0/s72-c/FrostedMiniWheats_Cereal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7114197971781086115</id><published>2008-05-08T16:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T17:02:43.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The real me???</title><content type='html'>If you don't know me and wonder what I look like, this is me!  If you already know me, this is what I look like without make-up.  Didn't know that I wore so much make-up, huh?&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCN2Kh_KXoI/AAAAAAAAAPw/seVEMaRKbjQ/s1600-h/PersonImage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198128318209744514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCN2Kh_KXoI/AAAAAAAAAPw/seVEMaRKbjQ/s320/PersonImage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was rather surprised when I found this picture on ZoomInfo, allegedly of someone who shares my name.  My name's pretty common,  so that wouldn't even be noteworthy except that part of the information provided about this person is my information.  According to the listing, she has my degrees and my job, and has served on some of the of the same professional and community boards as I have.    There are some "facts" that don't describe anything about me.    In fact, if it were describing one person, this would be a very busy person--she has two jobs!  According to the site, this info was gathered from 20 references.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does that mean I shouldn't believe everything I read on the 'net?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7114197971781086115?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7114197971781086115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7114197971781086115' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7114197971781086115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7114197971781086115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title='The real me???'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/SCN2Kh_KXoI/AAAAAAAAAPw/seVEMaRKbjQ/s72-c/PersonImage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4545949361535495714</id><published>2008-05-06T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T17:15:03.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Geez, I didn't know that</title><content type='html'>Schools are generally proud of their alums who enjoy success.  So I was rather surprised to learn that Jerry Springer was a Northwestern Law alum.  Jerry Springer, that icon of tabloid TV. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the Jerry Springer Show is still on the air, but it never ceased to amazed me that people so craved their 15 minutes of fame that they would allow it to be announced to the world that although everyone thought Becky Sue's baby had been fathered by her husband's best friend, with whom she'd been having an affair with the full knowledge and consent of her husband, the child was really fathered by Becky Sue's mother's ex-boyfriend.   Everyone should aspire to host such a show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why Northwestern Law never bothered to send out any updates about Jerry in the alunni news.  And maybe that's why the 2008 graduates are less than pleased about Jerry being their commencement speaker, as reported &lt;a href="http://www.abajournal.com/news/northwestern_law_students_object_to_jerry_springer_as_commencement_speaker/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The commencement speaker for my graduation was former Senator Dale Bumpers, also a Northwestern alum,  and he gave a very good and inspirational speech.  Perhaps the only blight on the day was that somone failed to plan for the fact that my class had 25 more graduates than in past years requiring that there be 25 more hoods.  As we approached the end of the alphabet (with me only three or four away from the end), there was a mass commotion on the stage as someone was literally ripping hoods from the faculty and guests who were seated on stage to make those hoods available to the graduates.  I am convinced that I actually got Senator Bumpers' hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all that aside, what is going on at Northwestern?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4545949361535495714?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4545949361535495714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4545949361535495714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4545949361535495714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4545949361535495714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/05/geez-i-didnt-know-that.html' title='Geez, I didn&apos;t know that'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-838845718529404974</id><published>2008-05-05T19:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T20:16:30.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mildred Loving 1939-2008</title><content type='html'>By all accounts Mildred Jeter and Richard Loving were madly in love.  They had grown up near each other and fallen in love at an early age.  First comes love, then comes marriage, so the saying goes, and that's what followed for them.  Nothing particularly unusual about that--just an old-fashioned love story.  Except that their union was illegal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until 1967, the Commonwealth of Virginia had the audacity to criminalize interracial marriages.  The so-called Racial Integrity Act made it a &lt;em&gt;felony&lt;/em&gt; for blacks and whites to marry, as Mildred and Richard discovered.  Mildred, black, and Richard, white, had married in Washington D.C., but returned to Virginia, and the Commonwealth just wasn't going to have any of that race mixing.    Police officers invaded the Lovings' home in the dead of night and upon finding them in bed, arrested and convicted them.  They were sentenced to 1 year in prison,  suspended, if they would leave the Commonwealth.  The U. S. Supreme Court overturned their convictions, finding the statute unconstitutional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Mildred and Richard didn't set out to make history or even to make new law.  They just wanted to be married and to live in the community in which they had grown up.   That's not much to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mildred died several days ago.  Richard has been dead since 1975, killed in a car accident caused by a drunk driver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-838845718529404974?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/838845718529404974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=838845718529404974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/838845718529404974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/838845718529404974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/05/mildred-loving-1939-2008.html' title='Mildred Loving 1939-2008'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6414993141680741864</id><published>2008-04-19T22:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T22:55:57.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Red letter day</title><content type='html'>A beautiful day for a jog?  Yes it was.  And BoilerBaby 3 completed her first 5k, taking first place in her age group.  It helped that she was the only female in that age group, but, it was still pretty special for her, especially since our time wasn't too bad.  It was a rather tough route--rolling hills with &lt;em&gt;lots&lt;/em&gt; of wind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finishing the race meant we deserved a good breakfast.  Cafe Cappuccino.  Mm-m-m.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6414993141680741864?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6414993141680741864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6414993141680741864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6414993141680741864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6414993141680741864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/04/red-letter-day.html' title='Red letter day'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8520147272662259924</id><published>2008-03-16T20:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T20:41:03.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R93L1Jl7KwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/4SljCZxQ87o/s1600-h/baylor+bear+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178519260514429698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="108" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R93L1Jl7KwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/4SljCZxQ87o/s320/baylor+bear+4.jpg" width="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R93JHJl7KuI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WE_R0W50Yno/s1600-h/purdue+pete+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178516271217191650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="125" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R93JHJl7KuI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WE_R0W50Yno/s320/purdue+pete+2.jpg" width="91" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like everyone else, I anxiously awaited the news of the fate of the Baylor men's basketball team. Would they get a bid to the Big Dance? The suspense mounted as the teams for the other three brackets were announced. When Purdue was announced, I was excited, but it was to be expected. Everyone knew Purdue would get a bid. Nonetheless, a big cheer escaped my lips. And then. . . the news that Baylor would be going also! YIPPEE!!! But then the reality sunk in. My Boilermakers would be playing the Bears. Who should I cheer for? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As BoilerBaby 1 lamented, it's too bad that one of our favorite teams will be out after the first round. Drats!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8520147272662259924?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8520147272662259924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8520147272662259924' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8520147272662259924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8520147272662259924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-again.html' title='Not again!'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R93L1Jl7KwI/AAAAAAAAAO8/4SljCZxQ87o/s72-c/baylor+bear+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8022369269509421179</id><published>2008-02-27T20:21:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T08:25:41.955-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too pretty to fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R8YflTxp5vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/M06VRnZStsw/s1600-h/too+pretty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171855947905754866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R8YflTxp5vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/M06VRnZStsw/s320/too+pretty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These two 18-year olds claim that Southwest discriminated against them because they're "too pretty." Southwest has already been guilty once of wrongful conduct. And one only needs to fly Southwest to know that it hires no pretty, young flight attendants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's a clear gap in the antidiscrimination statutes--that there's no liability for discrimination against the young and the beautiful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure that Southwes's decision had nothing to do with the girls' conduct which, according to the &lt;a href="http://www.tampabays10.com/news/watercooler/article.aspx?storyid=74549"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt;, makes them seem snotty, with a sense of entitlement. That couldn't be it  at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8022369269509421179?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8022369269509421179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8022369269509421179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8022369269509421179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8022369269509421179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/too-pretty-to-fly.html' title='Too pretty to fly'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R8YflTxp5vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/M06VRnZStsw/s72-c/too+pretty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8140858319200167150</id><published>2008-02-26T22:05:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T22:40:21.797-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's in a name?</title><content type='html'>What's in a name?  When it comes to the names of people, plenty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the 9/11 attacks, hundreds of new parents in the Mideast named their babies "Osama" in some perverse, demented tribute to bin Laden.  After Hurricane Katrina, the popularity of Katrina plummeted.   We once fostered a little girl named "Passion" which always evoked interesting reactions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when Bill Cunningham, in warming up the crowd prior to John McCain's appearance in Cincinnati, repeatedly referred to "Barack Hussein Obama", (as reported &lt;a href="http://firstread.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/02/26/702467.aspx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;) it is either naive or disingenuous to suggest, as some have, that Cunningham was simply using Obamas complete name.  We know what he meant, in his anything-but-subtle way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To McCain's credit, he was unaware of Cunningham's statements before he took the stage, and when he learned of them, he immediately and repeatedly apologized to Obama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cunningham's conduct demeans the political process, but may be a taste of things to come.  Maybe it's better to get this kind of stuff out of the way now so that if Obama is the Democratic nominee, it has lost any sting it may have.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, it's been only little more than a month since the country celebrated Martin Luther King's birthday, and we were reminded repeatedly of King's dream that one day his children would be judged by the content of their character, rather than the color of their skin.   Maybe Dr. King's statement should be modified to add name as another irrelevant consideration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8140858319200167150?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8140858319200167150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8140858319200167150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8140858319200167150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8140858319200167150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a name?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-4357598829544330836</id><published>2008-02-24T19:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T19:42:50.647-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops, I did it again</title><content type='html'>Once again, I attended a Baylor-Purdue athletic contest--the baseball game this weekend.  And once again, BoilerHusband and I were clad in our Boiler-wear.   What a fun way to spend Saturday afternoon.  The weather was perfect.  The kids enjoyed sitting out on the grass, where they were free to roll down the big hill or run around.  There were lots of hits--in the game that is.  The only thing that could have improved the afternoon would have been Purdue winning.   Unfortunately for us Boiler-people, the Bears swept Purdue in the three-game series. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time a Purdue team came to town, BoilerHusband and I went out to support the Lady Boilers, who won a preseason basketball team tournament, beating the Lady Bears.  I still occasionally get grief about sitting in the Baylor section, cheering for my alma mater. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't get to gloat this time.  It's alright.  Wait til next time.   Go Boilers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-4357598829544330836?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/4357598829544330836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=4357598829544330836' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4357598829544330836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/4357598829544330836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/oops-i-did-it-again.html' title='Oops, I did it again'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6277531092485576385</id><published>2008-02-14T21:02:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T21:23:10.373-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate when this happens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7UElDnlh-I/AAAAAAAAAOc/rTVS4QmALSg/s1600-h/naked+cowboy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167041182150526946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7UElDnlh-I/AAAAAAAAAOc/rTVS4QmALSg/s320/naked+cowboy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing is worse than having a good idea, implementing it, watching it take hold, and then having that idea stolen. And so it goes with the Naked Cowboy, who can be found in New York City. All those years of walking around Times Square. On the one occasion I saw him, it was cold outside--it was November! Neither Rain, nor Sleet, nor gloom of night--oh, that's the mailman. Either way,  a little weather doesn't seem to faze the Naked Cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now comes M&amp;amp;M/Mars, dressing an M&amp;amp;M as a naked cowboy. Stealing a man's underwear--how could they. Either way, as reported &lt;a href="http://www.abajournal.com/news/nycs_naked_cowboy_says_candy_corp_stole_his_trademark_skimpy_outfit/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, the Naked Cowboy, aka Robert Burck, has filed a trademark infringement in federal court. Not the typical IP case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6277531092485576385?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6277531092485576385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6277531092485576385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6277531092485576385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6277531092485576385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-hate-when-this-happens.html' title='I hate when this happens'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7UElDnlh-I/AAAAAAAAAOc/rTVS4QmALSg/s72-c/naked+cowboy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5869680471265196349</id><published>2008-02-11T18:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T20:53:14.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7EJ_znlh9I/AAAAAAAAAOU/85AcgyVgFoc/s1600-h/stand+by+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165921239363323858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7EJ_znlh9I/AAAAAAAAAOU/85AcgyVgFoc/s320/stand+by+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, the answer is &lt;em&gt;Stand by Me. &lt;/em&gt;Good job Operalawguy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that movie. It has many great lines, including one that always cracks me up, "Did your mother have any children that lived?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, the family law trivia. &lt;em&gt;Stand by Me &lt;/em&gt;has a soundtrack straight from the late 1950s, including the song, &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqhqBwGED1w"&gt;Come Softly to Me&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;/em&gt;by the Fleetwoods. The male vocalist and co-writer of the song was Fleetwood member Gary Troxel. Troxel is petitioner in the case &lt;em&gt;Troxel v. Granville, &lt;/em&gt;a case that went to the Supreme Court on the issue of a grandparent's right to have court-ordered visitation with a grandchild. &lt;em&gt;Troxel &lt;/em&gt;is assigned for Family Law students later this week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Law trivia to impress your friends and family! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5869680471265196349?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5869680471265196349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5869680471265196349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5869680471265196349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5869680471265196349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/and-answer-is.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R7EJ_znlh9I/AAAAAAAAAOU/85AcgyVgFoc/s72-c/stand+by+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2198157195740526962</id><published>2008-02-10T22:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T23:03:31.725-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Famous first  and last lines--Name that movie</title><content type='html'>Can you name the movie that starts with this line:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" I was 12 going on 13 the first time I saw a dead human being. It happened in the summer of 1959 - a long time ago, but only if you measure in terms of years."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another hint--the last line:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?&lt;/strong&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're welcome to put your answer in the comments or to keep it to yourself.  Either way, I'll post the answer tomorrow evening, along with a bit of Family Law trivia to start the new quarter off right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2198157195740526962?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2198157195740526962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2198157195740526962' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2198157195740526962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2198157195740526962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/famous-first-and-last-lines-name-that.html' title='Famous first  and last lines--Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-592473719976281723</id><published>2008-02-09T22:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T23:32:47.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Race</title><content type='html'>Is there any doubt that African Americans can compete with whites on the basketball court? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems odd to think that just a generation ago there were those who seriously believed that whites were naturally superior in basketball, chief among them, Adolph Rupp.  The movie &lt;em&gt;Glory Road&lt;/em&gt; was a good reminder.  The show that we watched today on ESPN evidenced even more clearly the racial divide in sports that existed in 1966 when Texas Western started five black players in the NCAA championship game and ultimately beat Rupp's Kentucky team.    I was just a child at the time, and had no idea of the significance of that game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, only the most ignorant would suggest that race is determinative in any way of the likely success of a particular athlete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, we're still caught in making judgements about people based on their race.  That's becoming clear in the Democratic primaries and caucuses.   Some blacks will choose Obama simply because he is black; others will not consider him because he is black.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't yet know for whom I'll vote in the primary.  What I do know is that Obama will not get my vote simply because he is black--nor does he want it for that reason.  Rather, I believe that Clinton or Obama are both accomplished and both are capable of leading this nation, notwithstanding their&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;race or genders.  I would have considered Edwards if he hadn't dropped out.  Which one of the remaining Democrats will get my vote will be decided on issues other than race or gender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be nice if race weren't an issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-592473719976281723?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/592473719976281723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=592473719976281723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/592473719976281723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/592473719976281723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/race.html' title='Race'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1460813846282383480</id><published>2008-02-02T21:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T21:45:08.851-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My take on the New Baptist Covenant Celebration</title><content type='html'>As Osler noted in his &lt;a href="http://oslersrazor.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;, the New Baptist Covenant Celebration was truly something special.  I'm not sure what I expected, but I found the past three days more inspirational, more affirming, more provocative than I  ever imagined.   President Carter and Mercer President Bill Underwood are to be congratulated for having conceived the idea of a convocation, where the goal was to unite black and white Baptists, as well as Baptists of other races, while celebrating the diversity in worship traditions and looking for ways by which we all might actively do the work of God on earth.  They are to be commended for bringing their idea to fruition and inviting preachers and other speakers who challenged us to be more Christ-like.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those who criticized the Celebration as a political event for liberals, they would have been disappointed at the distinctly non-political character of the Celebration.  That someone might characterize an issue like the environment as  political doesn't make a discussion on the environment necessarily so.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the special interest sessions I attended were conducted by knowledgeable people who offered fresh perspectives on their individual topics.  It comes as no surprise that Osler did a wonderful job as one of the speakers on the Engaging the Criminal Justice System panel--and I'm not just saying that because I'm his deacon (and responsible for his spiritual development, as he likes to remind me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The challenge will be to translate the good feeling into action. I look forward to the next steps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1460813846282383480?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1460813846282383480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1460813846282383480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1460813846282383480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1460813846282383480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-take-on-new-baptist-covenant.html' title='My take on the New Baptist Covenant Celebration'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5539183308705472327</id><published>2008-01-28T21:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T21:53:24.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Us too</title><content type='html'>My first impression on reading this &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22846013/"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; was, "cool idea." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second impression was, we need something like that here.  Instead of water pumps, can't we hook up a few kids directly to a generator?  Slap a few ads on the kids to generate some revenue, just for the heck of it, and send them out to play. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this idea has potential.  Cheap, renewable energy and maybe a solution to the childhood obesity problem to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5539183308705472327?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5539183308705472327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5539183308705472327' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5539183308705472327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5539183308705472327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/us-too.html' title='Us too'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7259316091925996812</id><published>2008-01-22T22:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T23:07:12.317-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Better Invocation of Reagan</title><content type='html'>Last week, Barack Obama invoked the memory of Ronald Reagan. Big mistake. Not because of what Obama said, but because no matter what he said, it was sure to be misconstrued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, if Obama was going to raise the spectre of Reagan, he would have done better to quote Reagan's 11th amenmdent, appropriately modified: Thou shalt not speak ill of a fellow Democrat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He might have done Reagan one better and added, "Stick to the issues!" Hillary's and Barack's back-and-forth jabs are silly and distracting. Stop it already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R5bK0Yy2UDI/AAAAAAAAAOM/n86yeVbs_Zc/s1600-h/bill+clinton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158533424557215794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R5bK0Yy2UDI/AAAAAAAAAOM/n86yeVbs_Zc/s320/bill+clinton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And while we're on the topic of distracting, the former prez needs to banish the orange tie to the back of the closet, or better yet, the trash bin. Orange is for clowns, jack-o-lanterns, and traffic cones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hillary's stock would go up immediately if she would show some leadership on this issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7259316091925996812?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7259316091925996812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7259316091925996812' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7259316091925996812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7259316091925996812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/better-invocation-of-reagan.html' title='A Better Invocation of Reagan'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R5bK0Yy2UDI/AAAAAAAAAOM/n86yeVbs_Zc/s72-c/bill+clinton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-9006241986514225892</id><published>2008-01-16T21:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T22:59:07.376-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts on a hot button issue</title><content type='html'>If I were to ask who benefits from affirmative action or preferential college admissions, I'd bet thatthe majority of respondents would answer either racial and ethnic minorities or women.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at the risk of over-generalizing, I'd bet that many who oppose affirmative action or preferential admissions favor merit-based decisions, based on objective measures, like SAT, GPA,  etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/22687704#22687704"&gt;clip&lt;/a&gt; from the NBC Nightly News talks of another group that may in fact be beneficiaries of preferential ttreatment,  namely men.  Some colleges are lowering their admissions standards for men in an attempt to close the gender gap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my random thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Affirmative action is always difficult to discuss because it means different things to different people.   I assume that all of the men selected are "qualified" notwithstanding their SATs or GPAs.  In other words, the preference is exercised to select from a pool of individuals, all of whom are qualifed.   That one applicant may have scored 30 points higher on the SAT or accomplished a GPA 2/10 of a point higher than the next person doesn't make that applicant necessarily "more qualifed"  such that it is wrong or even unfair to choose the one whose numbers are lower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  The concept of preferential treatment for men probably challenges the views of many on the whole issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  It's official:  now everyone is preferred somewhere.   One just has to find the school where their gender or race or ethnicity, etc. is under-represented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Many minorities can tell of the times when someone, based on scant evidence, assumed that they were admitted only because of affirmative action.   Will men, particularly white men, start to have similar experiences? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I agree with what the colleges are doing.  The environment in which one learns is important for all concerned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-9006241986514225892?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/9006241986514225892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=9006241986514225892' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/9006241986514225892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/9006241986514225892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/random-thoughts-on-hot-button-issue.html' title='Random thoughts on a hot button issue'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8733823341078357711</id><published>2008-01-15T19:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T19:51:10.222-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering MLK</title><content type='html'>Today is the actual birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr.   One of my favorite quotes by Dr. King is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Cowardice asks the question, 'Is it safe?' Expediency asks the question, 'Is it politic?' Vanity asks the question, 'Is it popular?' But, conscience asks the question, 'Is it right?' And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but one must take it because one's conscience tells one that it is right."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a powerful quote.  How much better would the country, indeed the world, be if all sought to do the right thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8733823341078357711?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8733823341078357711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8733823341078357711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8733823341078357711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8733823341078357711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/remembering-mlk.html' title='Remembering MLK'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7446198191771783842</id><published>2008-01-13T20:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T20:08:15.629-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to hang up the cleats for another year . . .</title><content type='html'>So the Cowboys lost today.  I'm sort of sad, but I also kind of don't care.  Despite the 'boys having one of the best seasons in recent years, the whole NFL Channel controversy has cooled my passion for professional football overall, and that includes the Cowboys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cowboys will always be my favorite team--I don't see that changing ever.  And I'll always root against the Packers.  But despite the various claims flying between the cable companies and the NFL owners, no one cares more about me, the common fan, than they care about squeezing every last dime out of the business.  So, I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll watch the Superbowl.  I may even care about the outcome, but not much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7446198191771783842?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7446198191771783842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7446198191771783842' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7446198191771783842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7446198191771783842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/time-to-hang-up-cleats-for-another-year.html' title='Time to hang up the cleats for another year . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3182984361309440149</id><published>2008-01-07T21:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:03:47.430-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The Breakfast Club.  &lt;/em&gt;John Bender, the "criminal" has some of the best lines of the movie.  I can't believe it (nor &lt;em&gt;The Karate Kid) &lt;/em&gt;made the AFI's top 100 movies.  Unbelievable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3182984361309440149?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3182984361309440149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3182984361309440149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3182984361309440149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3182984361309440149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-answer-is_07.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3541939261395283411</id><published>2008-01-06T22:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T22:56:13.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that movie</title><content type='html'>"Hey, how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up, it'll be  anarchy. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know the movie in which that line was uttered?  You're welcome to put your anwer in the comments or keep it to yourself.  Either way, I'll post the answer tomorrow night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3541939261395283411?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3541939261395283411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3541939261395283411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3541939261395283411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3541939261395283411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/name-that-movie.html' title='Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3305012018603919866</id><published>2008-01-04T18:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T18:57:00.667-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is a true story--really</title><content type='html'>Apparently, if you don't actually declare that your story is true, you're allowed to tell a story. That's the explanation of the mother who wrote a compelling, but false, essay to win Hannah Montana concert tickets, as described &lt;a href="http://www.abcnews.go.com/GMA/WinterConcert/story?id=4068368&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. What a witch! And her defense that "we never said it was true" that the child's dad died in an Iraq roadside attack is no defense at all. The mom has since apologized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand wanting to give your child something that she so dearly wants. And having an 8 year old, I can sort of understand the Hannah Montana phenomenon, although the mere thought of Miley Cyrus (who plays Hannah Montana) reminds me of Billy Ray, which reminds me of &lt;em&gt;Achy Breaky Heart, &lt;/em&gt;and I'd rather eat a bowl of glass than have that song stuck in my head. But how a mother can fail to see the myriad wrongs with her scheme until she was busted is beyond me, and makes me sad for the child who has an excellent chance of growing up confused about the difference between truth and fiction, right and wrong, etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3305012018603919866?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3305012018603919866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3305012018603919866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3305012018603919866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3305012018603919866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-is-true-story-really.html' title='This is a true story--really'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2759841289216460287</id><published>2008-01-02T21:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T23:01:00.199-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The continuing drama of the writers' strike (snore)</title><content type='html'>Forget &lt;em&gt;Alien vs. Predator.  &lt;/em&gt;The late night shows return tonight, notwithstanding the ong0ing Writers' Guild strike.  As described &lt;a href="http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/tv_and_radio/article3121064.ece"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, Letterman cut a separate deal with the Guild, so he will actually have writers and his show will carry on the same as always.  Leno,  on the other hand, will have no writers and will be limited in what he can do during the show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who will the viewing public choose?  If Letterman is a smashing success and Leno continues to lose viewers, will that put pressure on NBC suits to settle with the writers?  Will A-list celebs cross the line to be on Leno?    Does anyone really care one way or the other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked about a month ago whether unions still have any relevance.  I got some interesting responses from my Labor Law students.  Most who responded believed that unions were still relevant although there were different ideas about which industries held promise for unions in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe that unions have and will continue to have relevance.  However, I believe that the union officials will have to think more realistically and innovatively to accomplish the traditional union goals of job security, top wages and benefits, and safety.  I also believe that unions in general need to do a better job on the PR front to be more attractive to younger workers who seemingly see little need for a union if they do not hail from union families.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2759841289216460287?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2759841289216460287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2759841289216460287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2759841289216460287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2759841289216460287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/continuing-drama-of-writers-strike.html' title='The continuing drama of the writers&apos; strike (snore)'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3195066432714228677</id><published>2008-01-01T22:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T22:26:53.942-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Superstitions and resolutions</title><content type='html'>We've had our black-eyed peas.  I think BoilerHusband was the first to come through the front door, and he qualifies as dark-haired and good-looking in my book.  So I think The BoilerFamily is in good shape for the coming year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for resolutions, to the usual list of eating better; being more patient with slow drivers; taking more naps, etc., I add one more:  to be more faithful in writing on my blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the most important resolution:  to enjoy the present and be thankful for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3195066432714228677?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3195066432714228677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3195066432714228677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3195066432714228677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3195066432714228677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/superstitions-and-resolutions.html' title='Superstitions and resolutions'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-5829769124917698066</id><published>2007-12-31T23:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T08:54:58.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>Well, of course, &lt;em&gt;The Karate Kid--&lt;/em&gt;the movie of the 1980s. Good job, Adjunct-san.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's rather hard to believe that &lt;em&gt;The Karate Kid&lt;/em&gt; is not on AFI's top 100 movies. Throws everything about the list into doubt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-5829769124917698066?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/5829769124917698066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=5829769124917698066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5829769124917698066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/5829769124917698066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-answer-is.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7643810936253827618</id><published>2007-12-30T21:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T21:07:43.757-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that movie</title><content type='html'>"Sweep the leg."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is pretty easy, I think.  As usual, you're welcome to include your guess in the comments or keep it to yourself.  I'll post the answer tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7643810936253827618?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7643810936253827618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7643810936253827618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7643810936253827618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7643810936253827618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/name-that-movie_30.html' title='Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7535464430094971258</id><published>2007-12-29T22:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T22:46:33.709-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hidden Talents</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R3cifUt1JAI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zCe8fdvIoZw/s1600-h/guitar_hero_2_hr_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149622620453676034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 201px" height="224" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R3cifUt1JAI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zCe8fdvIoZw/s320/guitar_hero_2_hr_3.jpg" width="269" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who knew that I could be a Guitar Hero? Oh yeah--I have discovered a new facet of my musical side, and I rock! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so I'm only on the medium level of Guitar Hero. And so what that I miss lots of notes. A few days ago, BoilerBaby 4 could be heard doing a mean imitation of me bemoaning that, "my song failed!" But I'm sure I have a future. I just know I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7535464430094971258?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7535464430094971258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7535464430094971258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7535464430094971258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7535464430094971258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/hidden-talents.html' title='Hidden Talents'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R3cifUt1JAI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zCe8fdvIoZw/s72-c/guitar_hero_2_hr_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1545006430066671647</id><published>2007-12-26T00:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T00:45:18.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I was a Christmas sous chef</title><content type='html'>Today was a great day. Being with the fam was lovely. I think everyone was happy with their gifts, and that includes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;\And dinner was wonderful, cooked mostly by BoilerBaby1. That waasn't the plan--it just worked out that way. She normally helps with holiday cooking, and that was the plan. I just suggested that we switch off on cooking so that she would cook some of the things I usually cook and vice versa. I was tired and distracted, and fretting because I thought I flubbed the dinner rolls. I think she was a tad frustrated that I seemed to be operating in slow motion and was overly-concerned about the dinner rolls. So she sort of took over. She's that kind of kid. So, at her direction, I boiled and peeled the yams; she did the rest. I seasoned the salmon; she did the rest. And so it went with most of the meal. And it was good--really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this division of labor. I think I might be tired and distracted at Easter too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1545006430066671647?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1545006430066671647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1545006430066671647' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1545006430066671647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1545006430066671647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-was-christmas-sous-chef.html' title='I was a Christmas sous chef'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-534688246631240790</id><published>2007-12-10T20:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T20:20:35.339-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Minority Report, &lt;/em&gt;starring Tom Cruise.   The line is spoken by Dr. Hineman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, TomCruise is in the news today because someone in Germany wants to ban Scientology, Cruise's religion, on the grounds that it is unconstitutional, as reported &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7133867.stm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  Wow!  These are the times I'm glad I live in the US.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-534688246631240790?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/534688246631240790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=534688246631240790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/534688246631240790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/534688246631240790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-answer-is_10.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6569942800365644780</id><published>2007-12-09T21:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T21:29:26.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that movie</title><content type='html'>"Sometimes, in order to see the light, you have to risk the dark. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what movie this line is from?  You're welcome to add you guess to the comments or just keep it to yourself.  I'll post the answer tomorrow evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6569942800365644780?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6569942800365644780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6569942800365644780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6569942800365644780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6569942800365644780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/name-that-movie_09.html' title='Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1912114717872404102</id><published>2007-12-09T14:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T21:20:36.353-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor, poor rich lawyers</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://www.abajournal.com/news/wealthy_lawyers_take_social_nosedive"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; almost tugs at my heartstrings. Earning seven figures and still not quite cutting it in the social register. Life is tough all over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1912114717872404102?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1912114717872404102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1912114717872404102' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1912114717872404102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1912114717872404102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/poor-poor-rich-lawyers.html' title='Poor, poor rich lawyers'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8780232266131465106</id><published>2007-12-04T21:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T22:02:42.185-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's in charge of that Micky Mouse court anyway?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R1YgZlaYOqI/AAAAAAAAAN0/djyuEiN6V0Q/s1600-h/micky+mouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140331648601569954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R1YgZlaYOqI/AAAAAAAAAN0/djyuEiN6V0Q/s320/micky+mouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So why should Micky Mouse avoid testifying, just because he lives in Orlando? If Micky Mouse were really smart, he'd be on the plane now, jetting off to Naples, to comply with the court summons and hang out with his pals, Donald and Daisy Duck and Tweety Bird. According to this &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/12/04/AR2007120400710.html"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt;, a clerk in Rome indeed summonsed Micky and the gang to testify in a counterfeiting case. Oops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I needed to do a trial observation for PC, this trial would have been my choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8780232266131465106?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8780232266131465106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8780232266131465106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8780232266131465106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8780232266131465106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/whos-in-charge-of-that-micky-mouse.html' title='Who&apos;s in charge of that Micky Mouse court anyway?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R1YgZlaYOqI/AAAAAAAAAN0/djyuEiN6V0Q/s72-c/micky+mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8659449362086877721</id><published>2007-12-04T20:33:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T20:34:11.371-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm a day late, but the lines are from the best Disney movie, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Lion King,  &lt;/span&gt;uttered by Scar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8659449362086877721?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8659449362086877721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8659449362086877721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8659449362086877721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8659449362086877721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-answer-is.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6805655825274739451</id><published>2007-12-02T22:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T22:41:11.961-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that movie</title><content type='html'>"Life's not fair, is it? You see, I, well, I shall never be king. And you shall never see the light of another day.  Adieu."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you name the movie in which these lines are said?  You're welcome to include your answer in the comments or keep it to yourself.  Either way, I'll post the answer tomorrow evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6805655825274739451?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6805655825274739451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6805655825274739451' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6805655825274739451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6805655825274739451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/12/name-that-movie.html' title='Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6447221049849945911</id><published>2007-11-29T22:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T23:12:21.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Baylor to compete in Quidditch World Cup Competition"</title><content type='html'>Will this be the headline we'll read one day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After another dismal football season, maybe we should consider a new sport. Apparently college quidditch is catching on, albeit without flying brooms, as described in this &lt;a href="http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/arizonaliving/articles/1129quidditch1129.html"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt;. There's even an intercollegiate competition. Surely, we could take Middlebury College.  Plus, maybe I could watch re-runs of the quidditch match on nights like tonight when because of the greed of the NFL and Time Warner, I CAN'T WATCH THE 'BOYS!  But, I'm not mad or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to quidditch.  I see an opportunity for Baylor to take the lead within the Big 12 (or excuse me, the Big XII). So fresh off his success finding us a new football coach,  maybe our AD could get us a quidditch coach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6447221049849945911?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6447221049849945911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6447221049849945911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6447221049849945911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6447221049849945911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/baylor-to-compete-in-quidditch-world.html' title='&quot;Baylor to compete in Quidditch World Cup Competition&quot;'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7187010231994046634</id><published>2007-11-28T22:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T22:19:28.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What is the future of labor unions?</title><content type='html'>This is the question I’ve posed on the bulletin board for my labor law class. I’ve asked them to look into their crystal balls and predict the continuing relevance of labor unions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recent strikes by the New York stage hands and the TV writers in California have garnered publicity, but seemingly little strong feeling from the public in support of or in opposition to either side. I’d guess that many of my students have never belonged to a union, don’t expect to ever belong to a union, have no close relatives that belong to a union, and don’t know anyone who currently belongs to a union. That we’re in Texas is only part of the explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So are unions on their way out? I look forward to reading what my students predict.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7187010231994046634?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7187010231994046634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7187010231994046634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7187010231994046634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7187010231994046634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-is-future-of-labor-unions.html' title='What is the future of labor unions?'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-1752113802819003112</id><published>2007-11-27T14:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T14:45:35.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in my own reality show</title><content type='html'>The past two days, I feel like I've been competing in my own version of the Amazing Race, and not doing so well.  Yesterday began with what should have been a mid-morning flight to New York, only to find that my flight had been cancelled because of weather along the East coast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I took a detour to Raleigh-Durham, courtesy of a reservation agent who thought I might get to New York quicker by connecting there.   Nice lady that she was, she did put me in first class--that's always fun.  Two hours and one grilled salmon entree (a la airline chef) later, I arrived in Raleigh-Durham, to learn that my connection was delayed for several hours, once again for weather.   Alas, I boarded the plane and buckled my seatbelt, settling in for a quick hop on a puddle-jumper only to find that I (and everyone else) had been U-turned!  That's right, taken off the plane because at the last minute "dispatch canceled the flight." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to a hotel to spend the night and try again this morning, with time winding down.  I had about as much success in canceling  my NY hotel reservation for one night as the real Amazing Race contestants have in trying to communicate with locals who speak only Bantu.  Well, of course I couldn't cancel my reservation.  I hadn't met the 24 hour advance notice requirement.  Too bad that I didn't predict a day ahead that my fight would be canceled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, another attempt to get to New York this morning.  Once again, flight delays abounded.  The crews all got in late last night and needed to complete their "crew rest" before flights could take off.  Finally, the flight departed and I arrived at JFK Airport with just barely enough time to get to midtown Manhattan to make my CLE presentation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, concerned that I wouldn't make it at all, the program director went to plan B, and a good thing she did.  I landed in the only taxi cab in New York City where the cabbie drove like he lived in, say, Mayberry.  He actually drove the speed limit and stayed in his own lane the whole way!  I finally arrived right about the time I should have been underway, so, the only thing missing from my own Amazing Race was Phil Keoghan greeting me with his pronouncement that I'd been eliminated from the race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  Tomorrow's another day, or something like that.  Another CLE presentation that should go off without a hitch.  We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-1752113802819003112?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/1752113802819003112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=1752113802819003112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1752113802819003112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/1752113802819003112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/life-in-my-own-reality-show.html' title='Life in my own reality show'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3723113310477596514</id><published>2007-11-26T20:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T21:12:50.332-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;All the King's Men&lt;/em&gt;, by Robert Penn Warren.  In addition to the book, there are a couple of movie versions of the story.  I wouldn't waste my time on the more recent one starring Sean Penn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, while browsing the airport book store--I had lots of time after my flight was cancelled--I enjoyed paging through a book of quotes by Archbishop Desmond Tutu.  Ponder this one: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3723113310477596514?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3723113310477596514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3723113310477596514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3723113310477596514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3723113310477596514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-answer-is_26.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-6554194682484222331</id><published>2007-11-25T23:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T05:09:52.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that book</title><content type='html'>Can you name the book that starts out this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To get there you follow Highway 58, going northeast out of the city, and it is a good highway and new. Or was new, that day we went up it. You look up the highway and it is straight for miles, coming at you, with the black line down the center coming at and at you, black and slick and tarry-shining against the white of the slab, and the heat dazzles up from the white slab so that only the black line is clear, coming at you with the whine of the tires, and if you don't quit staring at that line and don't take a few deep breaths and slap yourself hard on the back of the neck you'll hypnotize yourself and you'll come to just at the moment when the right front wheel hooks over into the black dirt shoulder off the slab, and you'll try to jerk her back on but you can't because the slab is high like a curb, and maybe you'll try to reach to turn off the ignition just as she starts the dive. But you won't make it, of course."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, you're welcome to put your guess in the comments or keep it to yourself. I'll post the answer tomorrow. I'll go back to movies next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-6554194682484222331?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/6554194682484222331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=6554194682484222331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6554194682484222331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/6554194682484222331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/name-that-book.html' title='Name that book'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-2117439872085928590</id><published>2007-11-19T22:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T20:25:13.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How to annoy your older siblings, tip no. 37</title><content type='html'>Sing the following song, in the car, non-stop, for at least 20 solid minutes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Lucy had a baby, she named him Tiny Tim&lt;br /&gt;She put him in the bathtub to see if he could swim.&lt;br /&gt;He drank up all the water, he ate up all the soap.&lt;br /&gt;He tried to eat the bathtub; it wouldn't fit down his throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Lucy called the doctor. Miss Lucy called the nurse.&lt;br /&gt;Miss Lucy called lady with the alligator purse.&lt;br /&gt;Out came the doctor. Out came the nurse.&lt;br /&gt;Out came the lady with the alligator purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This tip brought to you by K4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems to me Miss Lucy is a negligent mom, but it is only a song, and I've learned to block.  But K2 hasn't. K4's incessant singing prompted the following interchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K2: "Stop singing!"&lt;br /&gt;K4: I'm singing a song. You're not the mommy or the daddy. You're just the big brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well okay! How do you argue with a 4 year old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these little exchanges between the Ks is just one of the things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-2117439872085928590?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/2117439872085928590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=2117439872085928590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2117439872085928590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/2117439872085928590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/how-to-annoy-your-older-siblings-tip-no.html' title='How to annoy your older siblings, tip no. 37'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-7299942753473651778</id><published>2007-11-19T18:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T22:39:33.621-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the answer is . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R0JVNT33FFI/AAAAAAAAANg/fibsfk_0m0k/s1600-h/elmer+gantry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134760212317017170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" height="140" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R0JVNT33FFI/AAAAAAAAANg/fibsfk_0m0k/s200/elmer+gantry.jpg" width="117" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elmer Gantry, the movie that is almost always referenced whenever there is a church scandal. Having watched it agian this week, it's as relevant as it was when the movie was released in 1960 or when Sinclair Lewis wrote the book in 1927. Plus, it's got a great gospel song near the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie is available on Free Movies on Demand, if you have Time-Warner cable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-7299942753473651778?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/7299942753473651778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=7299942753473651778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7299942753473651778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/7299942753473651778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-answer-is_19.html' title='And the answer is . . .'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WohNHmLcxwQ/R0JVNT33FFI/AAAAAAAAANg/fibsfk_0m0k/s72-c/elmer+gantry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-8686758324644056163</id><published>2007-11-18T20:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T20:28:31.360-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that movie</title><content type='html'>"You think religion is for suckers and easy marks and molly-coddlers, eh? You think Jesus was some kind of a sissy, hey? Well, let me tell you, Jesus wouldn't be afraid to walk into this joint or any other speakeasy to preach the gospel.  Jesus had guts. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you name it?  As usual, you're welcome to include your answer in the comments or keep your answer to yourself. Either way, I'll post the answer tomorrow evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-8686758324644056163?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/8686758324644056163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=8686758324644056163' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8686758324644056163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/8686758324644056163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/name-that-movie_18.html' title='Name that movie'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3374267580995779920.post-3177948101172834510</id><published>2007-11-18T16:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T16:31:22.891-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random observations on my recent trip to NYC</title><content type='html'>1.  A hotel that doesn't have Bravo in its cable line-up, forcing your's truly to miss Project Runway, should automatically lose at least one star in its hotel rating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Running in Central Park, when there are still beautiful fall colors, is wonderful, even if you get caught in a downpour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Tourists still seem to be having a great time in Times Square, notwithstanding the Broadway stage hands strike.  I think the retailers are the beneficiaries of the money that might have been spent seeing a show.  The striking stage hands looked kind of lonely walking the picket line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Quality Meats, a trendy restaurant near Central Park, has good steaks--but not as good as Diamondback's.    But the corn creme brulee was to die for (no, it didn't have the blow-torched sugar on top!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  If you buy two Screwdrivers on American Airlines, the third is free?  That was the experience of the guy seated next to me, who started with two, tried to buy a third until the flight attended comped him one, which then allowed him to spend his $5 on a fourth Screwdriver when she came by another time.  Then the same flight attendant gets annoyed with me for simply asking to have the whole $.25 can of cranapple juice rather than being happy with the cup she poured for me.   Just call me pushy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I like to visit New York, but I'm always glad to get back to Texas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3374267580995779920-3177948101172834510?l=boiler-babe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/feeds/3177948101172834510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3374267580995779920&amp;postID=3177948101172834510' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3177948101172834510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3374267580995779920/posts/default/3177948101172834510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boiler-babe.blogspot.com/2007/11/random-observations-on-my-recent-trip.html' title='Random observations on my recent trip to NYC'/><author><name>Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16988479574193376157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
