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Today I was interviewed as an “expert” on domestic partnership laws in northwest Ohio — a matter I had given no thought to before today — and as a “cool older guy” by a Pennsylvania high school newspaper.
I need a drink.

An unfortunate accident has befallen my previous date for tomorrow night’s Calexico concert — namely, that she won’t be able to attend with me. (Could there be anything more unfortunate?)
For those not familiar with the pure magic of Calexico: “conjures images of sand-blasted fence posts, cattle skulls, and wind-blown expanses of rock and sand…draws nearly as much from Mexican musical traditions as it does from American indie rock…Burns and Convertino have rapidly crafted what began as a side project into one of the best bands on the American indie rock landscape…great lyrics…resonates in gloriously cinematic tones…virtually everything bears an obscene attention to detail.”
If anyone else wants to join me, lemme know. After a few days of working on this beef jerky project, I need a little mariachi-postrock.

I’m working on another supersecret project this week. I can’t tell you much, but it involves a superconducting supercollider, a bunch of PhDs, and two piles: one of scrap tin, the other of beef jerky.
All I can say is the tin pile keeps getting smaller, and the jerky pile keeps getting bigger.

And oh yeah, happy birthday to me.

Strange how the newsroom’s a lot quieter at 7:30 a.m. after an election than it is at, say, midnight the night of.
No big surprises here in Texas: a G.O.P. sweep statewide, all the local incumbents winning without difficulty. (Here’s my uninteresting contribution to the day’s news.) Nationally, the Dems got whooped up more severely than I’d expected, but then again, that’s why I cover education, not politics.
Unfortunately, last night was just hectic enough that I couldn’t do a bunch of things I needed to, so after a few hours sleep, I’m back. After mid-morning, I may be out of the office for the rest of the week, so posting may be minimal.

Remember that woman a few years ago who had uncontrollable seizures every time she heard the voice of Entertainment Tonight’s Mary Hart?
I’m the same way whenever I see Liddy Dole.

Breaking news: Rick Perry elected governor of Texas.
In related news: sun rises in east, milk left out too long spoils, dogs and cats “not the best of friends,” and a stitch in time saves nine.

Damn that Jack Shafer! He points out something I’ve been meaning to, that the Sunday Boston Globe’s new Ideas section is top-notch. (It’s done by the ex-editor of Lingua Franca.) It’s aimed at the “casual brainiac,” in Shafer’s words.
Meanwhile, I’ve jonesin’ for reliable exit-poll data! How can I relax without knowing who’s leading the New Hampshire Senate race? Calgon, take me away!

Go out and vote, people.

I think the days immediately before a major election are often when journalism is at its worst. In close races, it’s when political operatives are most trying to play reporters for fools with last-minute revelations. (I’m still a little bitter over one of those four years ago, when I was covering the ’98 Ohio governor’s race.) But it’s also the time when editors are most cautious — because they don’t want to unduly influence the outcome of an election — and end up burying newsworthy items inside the paper.
Sadly, it’s also the time when politicians’ minions do their dirtiest of dirty work, which we in the business often don’t catch until it’s too late. So bravo to Josh Marshall, who’s found a nasty attempt at voter intimidation in Maryland. (Here’s the document in question.)