It's the Super Bowl: Do you know where your team is?

The Super Bowl is this weekend. Do you know where your team is?
Yeah, me too.
Bummer.
I used to hate sports as a kid. I have no eye-hand coordination to speak of and the kids in my neighborhood were athletic and prone to cheating. So if a ball was involved, I wasn’t.
Then came the Super Bowl between the Denver Broncos and the Dallas Cowboys in 1977. Living just north of Denver and having a rabid fan for a father, I got caught up in the excitement. I watched the Super Bowl. It was the first football game I ever watched. Two things happened to me that day. I became a Broncos fan for life. And I became a Cowboys hater – for life.
A couple years later I was attending Faith Baptist School in Longmont, Colo. The coach there made me go out for football since I was the biggest kid in junior high. It was only eight-man flag football, but I had a great time. I nurtured a love for the game and went on to be an all-state bench warmer for Niwot High. That’s what happens when you’re a 5-10, 150-pound lineman (dripping wet in pads). I also played behind two guys who eventually earned all-district honors at center (one was a year behind me).
My love of the game grew through college. As a journalist, I photographed every single home football game at Adams State College my four years there. And I won a few awards for the effort.
My parents eventually became season ticket holders for the Broncos. I have seen 21 of the 32 NFL teams play live. I’ve photograph a couple of NFL games, as well as some United States Football League and World League of American Football games.
It’s now that time of year when I usually get excited about the big game. It’s been hard to do that for a few years, and this year is no exception. I don’t care for either team, though I’d like to see the Arizona Cardinals pull it off.
While I will always first and foremost be a Broncos fan, I am taking a liking to the Houston Texans. I’ve followed the team from afar from the start. I became more interested when Gary Kubiak was hired as coach and brought a boatload of Bronco castoffs with him. Now I live here and feel an even closer connection. In fact, I’ve already developed that optimistic attitude that lingers in the hearts of all Texan fans – just wait’ll next year!
In the meantime, there is a meaningless championship game to be played followed by a long off-season called “baseball.”
I got my first taste of the major leagues while living in Minnesota in the late 1980s. The year I went to my first game was the year the Twins won it all. From then on I was hooked. I’ve still got a soft sport for the Twinkies, but my first love is the Rockies. I even worked for them briefly as a ticket-taker between journalism jobs. I’ve seen 21 or so of the teams play. I lost count when I was working for the Rockies. I saw lots of baseball that summer.
I don’t know that I can warm up to the Astros, but my wife has to a degree (but she was born in Houston). I hope to see a game or two this summer, especially when the Rockies come to town.
I know there are other sports out there, some of them even professional, like “basketball.” I’ve been to one NBA game. I wasn’t impressed. I had more fun watching the Harlem Globetrotters.
Hockey has been even harder to watch. The first game I saw on TV was the final game of the Stanley Cup a few years ago when the Colorado Avalanche won it all. I went to my first live game last season to watch the Amarillo Gorillas play. That was OK, but hard to follow when you don’t know much about the game.
My children like going to baseball games. They’re not much into football – yet. I’ve still got time to convert them. I doubt they’ll take the time to watch the Super Bowl this weekend. It’s just as well. When you don’t care about the teams that are playing, ad-watching becomes the name of the game. Last year was a let-down, but who knows what will happen this year.
I’m hoping for a few laughs, a close game, a Cardinal victory and perhaps some bonding time with my sons.
In the meantime, my team is in the same place as yours – in front of the TV watching someone else play.

No longer a white man's world

The Great White Father is no longer in Washington.
As of now, there is no Great White Father, as the presidents of the early United States became known to the Indians (or Native Americans as they are now called). Today a black man, the son of an immigrant from Kenya, is the leader of the free world.
This is the time that we’ve always been told will come, but never expected to see. This is a time of change. I have to ask myself, can I be a part of that change? Can I do my part to make this new world order a better place?
My whole life up until now I have lived with the smug confidence of a white man in a white man’s world. I’ve always believed in equality and the notion that anyone, regardless of their race or gender, could become president. I just never believed it would happen – yet it has.
This week was a first for me. I covered the Martin Luther King festivities on Monday and then went to Prairie View A&M University on Tuesday to cover President Obama’s inauguration.
What I witnessed really opened my eyes. I got to see first-hand what Obama’s ascension to the presidency means to people of color, especially blacks.
I really didn’t know what to expect being a white man entering the world of African-Americans. I was nervous to be sure, but experience taught me to be on guard. My only experience as a minority came back in the early 1990s when I was living in Elizabeth City, N.C. At that time and in that place, racism was rampant on both sides.
I know of blacks who hated all whites with a passion. I also know of whites who felt the same way about blacks. Many were the times that I was called either a racist by blacks or an N-word-lover by whites. I guess that meant I was doing something right to be branded that way by both sides.
I’ve always tried very hard to be respectful of all people regardless of their race or gender. I believe and live by the Golden Rule. But as I’ve said, I’ve always had the perspective of being in the white male majority. I don’t have that luxury anymore.
In covering the local events this week I got to see in the faces and hear in the voices what it means to blacks to have one of their own in the highest office in the land. I say “their own” for lack of a better word. Obama is an American, like me. Yet he is not like me. He is part of a minority race, a group of people that “my people” – whites – have historically looked down upon and treated as second-class citizens.
I hope that this will be the beginning of the end of the “Us and Them” mentality in this country. I hope that the next time a black person is elected president that we do not have to celebrate the occasion with this historical perspective of race, but rather celebrate the accomplishments of the man – or woman.
As I listened to Obama’s speech, I could feel his desire for unity in this country. I’ve always wanted unity, but always felt it should be the minorities unifying with the majority. Can we do it the other way around? We’ll see.
Obama issued a challenge for people to perform acts of service. That has been a hallmark of my life and will continue to be. I think working together toward a common good is what makes us stronger and more unified. Obama knows this and uses this action wisely.
One of the things that struck me this week was how often Obama was looked at as the fulfillment of the dream of Martin Luther King Jr. Obama is not the fulfillment of the dream. He represents the promise of the dream.
Realization of the dream will come in the next four years as we learn whether our faith in him is justified. Obama’s rise to the presidency is not the achievement of the dream but his positioning himself to accomplish that goal.
What Obama does in the next four years – what we do together as a nation under the leadership of a black man – will determine if the dream has truly been realized.
Still, I can’t help but look back on the events of this week and try to put myself into the shoes of a people who have been a downtrodden and second-class citizenry for centuries to try and figure out how they feel about Obama becoming president.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure out how Native Americans must be viewing these current events.
The Great White Father is gone indeed.

Some movies are life-changing

Every so often a movie comes along that changes your life.
For me, that movie was “Star Wars.” I was not quite 12 when I saw it for the first time. I knew then that my life would be different somehow. My whole world was different. It was bigger and more exciting.
No other movie affected me quite the same until “Dances With Wolves.” Where “Star Wars” gave me a sense of awe and wonder, “Dances With Wolves” filled me with peace, respect and pride. I was reminded of these two films last weekend because they aired at the same time on television. I clicked back and forth mercilessly. Commercial breaks never stood a chance.
There have been other films to affect my life over the years. More recently, “Passion of the Christ,” “Facing the Giants,” and “Fireproof” have really inspired me. So have the “Spider-Man” and “Pirates of the Caribbean” trilogies, but to a much lesser degree.
This past year I found myself drawn to “The Dark Knight.” It’s not a life-changer and it won’t rank in my top 20 all-time favorites. What got me more than anything was the performance by the late Heath Ledger as the Joker.
It wasn’t that long ago and I was condemning Ledger and the rest of Hollywood for “Brokeback Mountain” and a host of other pro-gay movies. Were it not for Ledger’s role as the Joker, I wouldn’t have given his passing a second thought. Having seen the movie a couple times now, I really feel the loss of his remarkable talent.
Oscar nominations will be coming out soon. If Ledger isn’t nominated, I’m not watching the ceremony this year. Somehow I don’t think that will be a problem.
Of course, what this tells you about me is that in addition to being an Old West fanatic, I’m a sci-fi junkie (or dork, as my friend Travis Pryor would interject here).
I have never in my life knowingly worn pointy ears or foam rubber forehead ridges, though I have to admit to having dressed up as Captain Kirk and Luke Skywalker for Halloween.
I am one of those geeks who attend Star Trek conventions, giving Vulcan hand signs and quoting freely from the original “Star Trek.”
I have seen “Star Wars” more than 100 times. I have figurines of C-3PO and R2-D2 in my office. I have met or seen in person more science-fiction actors than I can count on my fingers and toes.
When “Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace” came out I attended the midnight showing and then took the next day off from work so I could spend the entire day in the theater watching it back-to-back-to-back.I first talked with my wife about getting married while standing in line with her at the Star Wars Celebration in Denver in 1999.
I have been a science-fiction fan longer than I can remember. I was almost 4 years old when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon (I’ve met Buzz, by the way). I remember my folks calling me over to watch it on TV.
At the time I didn’t see what the big deal was about landing on the moon because we already had starships way out there in outer space. That was when mom had to explain to me the difference between real TV and fiction.
As a young man I had to nourish my sci-fi fetish on “Star Trek,” “Godzilla,” “Planet of the Apes” and comic book heroes such as Spider-Man, Batman and Superman. Eventually Hollywood served up more dishes like “Battlestar Galactica,” “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century” and “Space: 1999.”
Along with movies and TV come all the toys and collectibles. As a youngster I had the entire collection of “Star Trek” action figures (I can’t bring myself to use the word doll).
Later on, I acquired the entire collection of original Star Wars figures, including the mail-in Boba Fett. I let them all go at a garage sale for 50-cents each — one of the biggest regrets of my life.
Now, my collection of sci-fi memorabilia isn’t what it could be, but it’s satisfying nonetheless. I get to do most of my collecting through my kids. Buying them gifts makes a great excuse for me to continue buying action figures, space ships, models and posters.
And this year will be a great year for sci-fi movies with the return of “Star Trek” to the big screen.
So, Trek-on, good buddy and may you live long and prosper!

Just plain stupid by design

I’m stupid.
It’s nice to know that for a documented fact. I learned that on two different fronts last weekend (and it had nothing to do with being the father of two teenagers).
The first indication of my stupidity came in a story I read (or dare I say, had my wife read to me) in the Sunday edition of the Houston Chronicle. It was headlined “Dumbest generation? Not who you think it is.”
The story, written by author Neil Howe for the Washington Post, basically said that the least-educated and poorest performing generation of our time is not the one in school now, but their 40-something parents, particularly those born in the late 1950s to the mid 1960s.
I was born in 1965. I am 43. I was in the class of 1983. According to Howe and a political consultant named Jonathan Pontell, I am part of the “early Xers,” or “Generation Jones.” I’m in that sliver group not fortunate enough to be a baby boomer or young enough to be in generation X.
To be honest, I’m more than happy to not be in either generation. One is identified as self-serving overachievers and the other as self-serving slackers. I can take pride in being from a generation of self-serving morons.
According to Howe, “Early Xers are the least bookish CEOs and legislators the United States has seen in a long while. They prefer sound bites over seminars, video clips over articles, street smarts over lofty diplomas. They are impatient with syntax and punctuation and citations — and all the other brainy stuff they were never taught.”
Golly!
He continues: “Want proof? Start with the long-term results of the National Assessment of Educational Progress … On both the reading and the math tests, and at all three tested ages (9, 13 and 17), the lowest-ever scores in the history of the NAEP were recorded by children born between 1961 and 1965.
“The same pattern shows up in SAT scores. The SAT reached its all-time high in 1963, when it tested the 1946 birth cohort. Then it fell steeply for 17 straight years, hitting its all-time low in 1980, when it tested the 1963 cohort.
“Ever since, the SAT has been gradually if haltingly on the rise, paralleling improvements in the NAEP. In 2005, teens born in 1988 scored better on the combined SAT than any teens born since 1956 — and better on the math SAT than any teens born since 1951.”
The story is long and it goes into detail offering theories and statistics to show how me and my ilk were basically neglected (can you say latchkey?) and put down by our superior boomer intellectuals.
We early Xers are the first generation to not exceed the financial and social success of our parents. At least that’s what Howe says. And he should know. He’s a baby boomer who has co-written several books about American generations.
Of course, TV newsman Tom Brokaw wrote “The Greatest Generation” about the generation that pulled itself up by its bootstraps during the depression of the ’30s, saved the world in the ’40s and parented the baby boomers in the ’50s and ’60s.
As much as I love, respect and honor my elders, I submit to you that this “Greatest Generation” is the one that moved women out of the home and into the workplace and allowed their unsupervised children to leave the church, experiment with drugs and have their every wish given to them on a silver platter.
This was the generation that tired of working jobs outside the home and parenting, so left us early Xers to our own devices and the boob tube. Rather than raising the bar for us, it lowered it in hopes of boosting our self-esteem.
Of course, what this all means is my generation now has an excuse for our stupidity. We’re victims! Bring on the entitlements! Woo-hoo! Homer Simpson, you’re my hero!
Of course, having the Lone Ranger and Tonto as my role models didn’t help. That is where the second dose of stupidity hit me last weekend. My wife’s grandfather (who is from the Greatest Generation) loaned me his copy of “Cosbyology” by that great philosopher Bill Cosby.
The last chapter details how he discovered that the word “Tonto” means “stupid” in Spanish. That led him on a quest to find out what Kemosabe – the name Tonto called the Lone Ranger – means. While the legend says it means “trusty scout” or “trusted friend,” Cosby was unable to find an Indian definition for it.
So he broke it down into parts and, with help, came up with a translation that means “Who no know,” or “He who knows nothing.”
So there you have it, as an early Xer and president of the Lone Ranger Fan Club, I am truly Kemosabe.

Changes coming in 2009

It’s hard to believe that it’s been 10 years since we were going to “party like it’s 1999.”
Ten years ago we were on the countdown to Y2K (and the end of civilization as we knew it).
The year 1999 was memorable for me in many ways, none of which had anything to do with the Millennium Bug. My beloved Broncos won the Super Bowl. “Star Wars” returned to the big screen. I went on my first mission trip -- a week-long adventure to build houses in Honduras. And Sandy became my wife.
Here we are in 2009 and we’re still trying to figure out what to call the 2000s. We got used to ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, but we still fumble around for a way to say whatever it is we call the last nine years.
This year is going to bring with it a lot of change. We’ll have a new president who promised us that.
Locally, I anticipate many changes. It’s a hard prediction for me to make being new here, but maybe that’s why I can say that. Everything I have seen so far indicates this area is growing. Growth brings change. There will be new public officials – some starting today and other yet to be elected or appointed.
Closer to home, you can expect many changes in the News Citizen this year. You will not recognize the paper within a few weeks if I have anything to do about it. I think the people in Waller County deserve better than they’ve been getting and I plan to do my best to make this paper a vital part of the community and an important part of your week.
I like to think I am bringing fresh eyes and ears and a new perspective to the paper. Like I said last week, I want this paper to be interactive with the community.
If you have something you think might make an interesting story, please let me know.
I am especially interested in feature stories. I like to talk to people about their odd collections, interesting hobbies, unusual happenings and such.
Another thing I’d like to feature is photographs of hunting and fishing trophies. If you were successful with your pole or gun, please feel free to submit a picture and to tell us how and where you made your catch.
The easiest way to reach me is by e-mail. My address is jsouthern@hcnonline.com. You’re also welcome to come by the office or give me a call at 979-826-3361.
Who knows, 10 years from now we could be looking back at the interesting things in your life and marveling at how much things have changed since now. But that won’t happen without your participation. And if you have any suggestions for things you’d like to see (or no longer see) in the News Citizen, please feel free to let me know.This is, after all, your newspaper. In order to print the news that’s important to you, we must first know about it. Don’t be shy. Your public is waiting.