Author: jbenton

Back in Dallas, after a great time in Boston. I’ll post more boring stuff about the speakers tomorrow, don’t worry.
In the meantime, my Japan story on the educational reforms is finally running in Monday’s paper (front page, I hope/think, barring big breaking news).
P.S. Before I left Boston, Fiona said indignantly, “So what, I just get a little tiny mention in your blog? Is that all I’m worth, one little mention?” So, to salve your wounded spirit: Fiona Fiona Fiona Fiona. Fiona? Fiona! Fiona. (Important note: Fiona has just informed me via telephone that the quotation above is in fact merely a paraphrasing of what she said, and not a literal quotation. [She was very upset by this and said this between sobs and angry wails of “Why me? Why me?”] I hereby retract the literal quotation, although its spirit remains true to the fact.)

Not much time to update, but today was pretty damned amazing. The sessions at today’s conference were with, in turn, Gay Talese, Rick Bragg, Jon Franklin, Tom French, and Ira Glass. As a journalism geek, those names probably mean a lot more to me than to most of you, so I’ll introduce them: (1) the man who basically invented modern magazine journalism, the man who wrote “Frank Sinatra Has A Cold,” maybe the best piece of narrative journalism ever, and a Joe DiMaggio piece that was not long ago called the greatest piece of sports journalism written in the last century, (2) New York Times correspondent, Pulitzer winner, best selling author (and, as Kim knows, someone I have a few problems with, but a very talented writer nonetheless), (3) two-time Pulitzer winner, the man who perfected the adaptation of the three-act structure of film to narrative writing, (4) a terrific writer of serial narratives from the St. Petersburg Times, a Pulitzer winner, and a great, great, great writer, and (5) the host and majordomo of This American Life, a genius at turning the lives of everyday people into beautiful drama.
That’s quite a lineup. They were collectively amazing — there are things I might nitpick with each, but they were terrific. Ira and Tom were particularly amazing, but they all had their strengths. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, the last day of this conference.
Important side note: Does anyone out there read W, the fashion magazine? I’m not sure how much the W demographic and the crabwalk.com demographic overlap, but I’ve been told that in the current issue (with Rene Zellweger (sp?) on the cover), my college roommate is listed as one of 10 people “to watch” in the future of Hollywood and/or America. I can’t find the magazine here in Boston, but I’d like to see it if someone out there reads it. (This roommate is now an agent in L.A. I lived with him for three years, years marked primarily by the fact that any girl I was interested in would invariably be more interested him than in me. Tom’s handsome, well dressed, charming, and — get this — French. I had no chance. If anybody has the article, I’d love to see it.)
More to come later.

Landed fine in Boston. (Although the flight was the scariest I’ve been on. It’s good to know the seat belts work. As the turbulence hit its height, after the meal service was cancelled and things started really shaking, the thought crossed my mind: How lame would it be to die while watching Legally Blonde? [Quick crabwalk.com review: Not bad, although I’m amazed at any movie that can turn an obscenely wealthy, beautiful, pampered blonde into a victim of discrimination and turn a bunch of nerdy academics into evil social excluders. Not how I remember college.)

I’ve gotten enough of a response to make me think the CD Mix of the Month idea might work. So here’s how it’ll work.
Once a month, I make a mix CD of music I like. Doesn’t have to be new music or have any theme, although it might. If you want I’ll give you a copy of this mix. In exchange, you make a mix CD of music you like and give me a copy. Everybody gets new rockin’ tunes, everybody’s happy. (Ideally, if we get, say, eight people making mixes, everybody could get a copy of everyone else’s mix. In other words, you burn eight copies of your mix and get eight different mixes in return. But that might be down the line.)
If you live outside the DFW area, we’ll trade by mail. If you’re local, we could either mail ’em or figure out a way to swap in person. (Or through a clandestine network of operatives specially trained in the art of polycarbonate disc exchanges. Whatever.) Lemme know if you’re interested. At d.saint‘s suggestion, let’s set an informal goal of having mixes done by Dec. 7.

I am pleased to announce the birth a new baby blog, Stupid McNupid, the creation of my friend Kelly. If I had any cigars handy, I’d be handing them out tearfully right now.

Damn! I hate the difference between Mac and PC monitors. The above photo doesn’t look so painfully dark on my Mac at home. Sorry ’bout that. Anyway, as one might guess from above, I’m off to Boston in a few hours. I’m going to the Nieman Narrative Journalism Conference at hated Hahvahd. There are some amazing, amazing journalists scheduled: my man Ira Glass (of This American Life), Gay Talese, Nora Ephron, Jon Franklin, Tom French, and more. Should be a blast. And I get to see my friend Fiona and my newly engaged college roommate Bob. Woo hoo!

No Comment Necessary Dept.: MADRID — Sevilla’s Francisco Gallardo is totally surprised that the Spanish Football Federation has opened an investigation into his bizarre goal celebration during his team’s 4-0 victory over Valladolid last weekend. Gallardo was caught on camera bending down and biting teammate Jose Antonio Reyes’ genitals in celebration of the striker’s goal early in the second half of the match. “I don’t think what I did was very noteworthy,” Gallardo was quoted as saying by Spanish media Wednesday.
“I just felt a slight pinch. I didn’t realize what had really happened until I saw the footage on television,” Reyes was quoted as saying by the French Press Agency. “Gallardo hasn’t heard the end of this. The worst thing now is the stick I’m getting from the other players,” he added.
Goal celebrations have been the cause of previous controversies. Former Valencia player Leandro once imitated a urinating dog at the edge of the field, and Liverpool’s Robbie Fowler drew criticism for crawling at a field marking and pretending to snort cocaine.
UPDATE: A photo of the offending privates-nibble.

Some of the finer search terms people like you used to find this site in November: “falwell water park ride photo,” “swedish freshman initiation,” “carrottop biography,” “where can i buy turducken,” “bono gets in debt,” “chewy and leia f—ing photo” (ewww), “old coins value indian head pennies,” “my tetris natalie portman edition,” “funny osama turkey,” “dallas debutantes,” “marlon brando personal email,” “sloan chris murphy girlfriend,” “charo+humanitarian,” “ricki and swing,” “osama’s desktop theme,” “how to ace bandage the wrist,” “kobe racing leather,” “download booty shaking contest,” “determination of benzoic acid in soy sauce,” “most frequented indian site porn,” “franklin planner daily scripture reading lds,” “12 most brilliant 3 on 3 football plays,” “pennsylvania chattanooga blog,” and my all-time favorite: “john stamos+socks.”

I had to go look over some documents at DISD headquarters this morning, and in the room where I was sitting, The Price is Right was on. I hadn’t seen the show in many years, but I was quietly pleased they’ve kept all the garish ancient sets, the ’70s typography on all the signs, and the technicolor-dream-coat back curtain behind the audience. (I was disappointed that they’re evidently requiring implants for the female “presenters” now; I see that two of the three of them are Playboy alums. Not that their predecessors were hired for their ability to deconstruct Sartre, but still.)
Needless to say, the Internet is home to at least one certifiable Price is Right obsessive.

Maybe it’s for the best that my dreams of covering America’s New War didn’t work out. After all, the number of Western journalists killed is beating the number of Western soldiers killed, 8 to 1.