Maddie - Guitar Goddess

From my Guitar Hero collection:
Anna's daughter Maddie rockin' out! (Blame her momma for the blurry picture.)
(There's a great video with the whole family - Anna & Maddie on guitar with 3 year old Nathan on drums, but I have to have the "go" from Anna to post and I'm thinking I'm not getting the "go". Plus, she can hurt me - so no sneaking it on. :( )

Your Guitar Hero Photo Here

...it's not too late to get yours in!





(Big love to the sneaky photographer.)

Top 10

The year is wrapping up, which means only one thing –Top 10 lists and I hate Top 10 lists for the most part because they tend to be pieced together by art house know-it-alls who want to make sure you feel stupid for enjoying The Fantastic Four by beating you down with a list of movies that were shown in four major cities to an audience of about 62. Doubtlessly, they golf-clapped at the end, drank some wine and threw around many multi-syllabic words to express their profound appreciation of the masterpiece they just enjoyed then made plans to jet to Cannes.

After talking to April and receiving her personal Top 10 of “Why I Hate Top 10 Lists” (by far, the number 1 Top 10 List of 2007 as determined by me) and then later reading my first genuine Top 10, I decided to chime in with my own completely subjective list. Unfortunately, I can’t find that person’s Top 10 – and it was great because it pushed me over the edge and made me realize I couldn’t walk away from my own list – all with one whiney little statement about the 300 being one of the worst movies of the year and how we didn’t need to see another war movie.

So, here you go – some lists.
Movies
“No Country for Old Men” – everything about this movie is solid from the acting to the set design to the sound effects – I’ve stood in front of those counters, talked to those people, walked on those floors, opened those doors – I’ve never seen a movie get so much right in terms of “flash” and sounds.

“Pan’s Labyrinth” – I know, you saw it last year. Well, I saw it this year and this is my list.

“Children of Men” – my stub says 1/21/2007, so this one counts, too. For the record, I think it’s cheating to sneak things in at the end of the year before the rest of us can see them. I hate the pressure of trying to see everything before Oscar Night that Top 10 lists have told me is good. I’m talking to you limited release “There Will Be Blood” and “Butterfly in the Bell Jar”

“300” – complete eye candy and not just the CGI-ed abs – I feel no shame in listing this – just take one look at the Frank Miller graphic novel and compare the frames to the movie – their special effects team deserves a standing ovation.

“The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Bob Ford” – I hope I didn’t ruin the end for you.

“3:10 to Yuma” – We like all things Christian Bale in this household. (Well, I wasn’t too keen on American Psycho, but I’ve liked him since Henry V.)

“The Last King of Scotland” – again, saw it this year. It’s not my fault I didn’t want to go to the one theater it showed in here.

… and for the record, I really enjoyed “Transformers” and “Live Free or Die Hard” – take that movie snobs.

The worst movie for an action junkie like me: War - you shouldn't be able to go wrong with Jet Li and Jason Statham, yet they did.

TV
“Dexter” – America’s favorite serial killer

“Battlestar Galactica” – by far the best Science Fiction serial show and I’m going to have to go with “ever” on this one. Your Star Treks (any version), original BSGs, Space 1999’s, Stargate’s, Farscape’s, Cleopatra 2525’s, Andromeda’s just don’t hold a candle to this show.

“Chuck” – FUNNY and it has Adam Baldwin

“Heroes” – Last season, not this one (well ok, I really like the addition of Dan Anderson’s Kensei)– and since last season wrapped this year, it counts.

“The Daily Show” – could someone PLEASE pay the writers what they’re worth? I miss you Jon – so much in the news, so little mocking

Books
Gates of Fire – Ok, I really sucked in terms of reading this year – my life blew-up and I have a backlog. Anyway, this is fictionalized story about the Hot Gates or the Battle of Thermopylae. In other words, it’s the story of the 300.

Music
Best CD according to ME: Rodrigo y Gabriela – album by the same title

My favorite songs that I was introduced to this year:
“Ina Mina Dika” – it’s a RHYMING song from Bollywood and an old standard.

“Hold On” – KT Tunstall

“Wagon Wheel” – The Old Crow Medicine Show

“Myriad Harbour” – The New Pornographers

Honorable mention to the Brian Setzer Orchestra (you know him from Stray Cats) for “One More Night With You”

If I missed something you enjoyed, good. Go make your own list.

Mid-Life Crisis

I really miss school – not homework or projects or tests or, God forbid, anything that involved me standing in front of people and speaking. I miss the learning. I miss changing up subjects every hour all day long from English to science to math – and I loved it all – maybe not all of my teachers, but almost all of the subjects.

In college, I loved deciding which classes I’d take and my first few years looked a lot like my high school schedule with all the usual suspects including orchestra and PE, but in college I could focus on particular areas – biology became zoology – government became international law – and PE was modern dance or Tae Kwon Do depending on the semester (I’m so out of shape now I can’t wrestle the cat off my desk without her pinning me to the ground while hissing “you want some of this? Hmm? You think you’re a tough human? Whose a tough girl, now? Is it you? Hmmm? I didn’t THINK so!” then she lets me up and I go sulk in the living room.) The only thing I hated was picking a major and the way I decided was to review all the classes I’d taken and determining that “ahhh, I have more government than anything else”, because I didn’t want to be in school forever. I wanted to get out and enjoy the freedom of having a “job” – forget learning anything useful, any ol’ job would do. Choosing a minor was a little more difficult – I had an equal number of classes in biology, anthropology and English so it came down to “eh, English is ok”.

(Just for clarifications sake – when I say I have a minor in English that does not mean I have any special skills at either writing or editing. For some reason, when people hear I have a minor in English, they think I can critically analyze their writing and begin to actually worry. Unless you’re using the word “irregardless” trust me when I say you’re safe from me. What an English minor actually means (at least in my case) is that I’ve read a lot of poetry, short stories and books. In fact, I need some of you to sit down for this next revelation, you see, I cannot even diagram a simple sentence. I know, I know, I single-handedly make English teachers across the globe weep, but I didn’t become a run-on sentence, comma splice abuser because I could identify an indirect object. I prefer a more stream-of-conscious Dickens approach to a sentence. (C’mon, that first paragraph in a Tale of Two Cities (aka that sentence) is blatant abuse and they paid him by the chapter.) In fact, every year in high school would open with our English teachers berating us for our poor skills, snarking about our previous lax teachers, then they’d set aside two weeks to drill the basics into our head, throw their hands up in disgust, declare us all hopeless and begin throwing books our way. If we could survive a couple of “who” “whom” or “which” and “that” chapters in the Little Brown Handbook, we were home free. The next year, they’d start this whole cycle anew and we’d always be rewarded because ultimately they wanted to read books, too.

Now I have a job and it’s nice – it pays the bills – it keeps me off the streets, but I am missing all of the exposure I once had to history, social sciences, geography, geometry, etc. Sure, I can relive the orchestra experience by practicing and joining a group. I can try to recapture that English feeling by joining a book club, but that has a few drawbacks which will only serve to make me sound more arrogant than I already do. But I really can’t break away and find a group that wants to sit around solving algebraic equations, working matrices, figuring out a complicated proof – those mathematical puzzles that are equally stimulating and fun. There’s no special hour to devote to the discussion of ethics or Eastern political thought or compare death rituals across the various tribes in Africa. The only group that might come close is MENSA and what do you really do there other than compare the size of your score? “Well, mine’s bigger!” Go Big Brained You! Plus, I’ve met some of the MENSA folks here in town, and they’re also proud members of the B&D Society. Personally, I don’t need a little spanking with my Chaucer, thank you very much – “Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote…” doesn’t inspire me to become anyone’s filthy little love pony – and if it does for you, go you – I know a great club you can join.

Sure, I could go back to school, take a class here or there but I really can’t recapture that same feeling nor can I carry 12+ hours of classes, live in a dorm and think that Ramen every day is ok by me. Call this my mid-life crisis. I’m just missing the sports car. (I already got the hot young man. Go old me!)

Birthday: The Models

Shadow Box
Originally uploaded by Beth Doughty

Those at my birthday may have noticed the picture below didn't have the shadow box. This deserves special mention especially since one of us might have had a mini-meltdown at the birthday party over it.

You see, I have a rare phobia involving model robots in small spaces....
No wait... I'll start at the beginning. A small story for my friends/family who were at my birthday since I couldn't choke it out.

When my mother was growing up in the 40's they lived in a big house with their grandmother, aunt, uncle and her cousin Philip. Mom & Philip did everything together so it was only natural that when Philip and his dad got together for model building that Mom would join them. Well, Uncle Phil explained to a young Mom that girls didn't build models, which was a lot like saying "as soon as you're on your own kid, you're going to build as many models as you can get your hands on" and after being deeply offended that's what she set about doing.

Mom has built all sorts of ships, shuttle craft and when the Star Wars phenomenon hit the 70's she grabbed up these models - putting in more work than was called for on C3PO and possibly R2, but that's actually not the original R2 that she put together - he disappeared - and somewhere in the 90's we went on a mission to find a duplicate kit. These were the models I took with me for show-and-tell; the envy of all my classmates at the time. In fact, for that one day I was popular - everyone wanted to play with them. (Not that I was old enough in the 70's to take them anywhere, mind you.) These are the models that always stood on her shelves even when she started to loose everything and had to drastically reduce what she owned to what she could fit into a single bedroom. I would say that of all the models my Mom built, and there were many impressive ones, these meant the most to her.

My cousin Kim used them in part of the display at the funeral to remind people of who Mom was and I remember Kim saying she wanted to do something special with them and I completely forgot about them.

Then my TWENTIETH birthday party came along and I'm pulling out gifts, working my way to opening my "Box o' Beth" and get to this. Kim had placed Mom's models in a shadow box, lit up the back with stars and there R2 and 3PO stood before me on the sands of Tattooine.

Kim, I will never be able to express how much this gift meant to me - how incredibly thoughtful - how deeply it touched me. Thank you!

Birthday Loot

Loot
Originally uploaded by Beth Doughty

My grandmother was a firm believer that you didn't go around bragging about your gifts. The kid next door might have only gotten handpainted rocks and a Chia Pet compared to your Solid Gold album featuring Dionne Warwick (well, not mine because that would make me VERY old and I just turned 20 - who was Shawn Cassidy? I have no clue, I never had a poster. *cough*) Of course, my grandmother also had some crazed notions about how girls wouldn't date if they showed the slightest signs of intelligence either, so I take what my grandmother taught me with a huge grain of salt. In other words, I'm about to brag.

That there, that there up above, that's a sample - something I'd like to call the best birthday presents ever. What you're looking at represents poems, pictures, CDs, comics, haikus, original drawings, original stories, food and a fresh wreath of pine - all of it from my friends and family for my TWENTIETH birthday.

By far, I have the best friends and family a person could ask for and since I have this blahg, I have to brag on them. This was one of those occasions that I will never be able to properly express how grateful I am for all of them.

Thanks guys, for giving me so much of yourselves for my birthday. It was by far the best birthday EVAH!

NPR's Story Corps

Stretching a Christmas Dollar

I'm a huge fan of Story Corps, as I've mentioned in the past. Since I don't have anything of my own to post at the moment, I want you all to take a moment and listen to this one family's story about Christmas.

(It's tempting to just read, but resist the urge and listen by clicking on the Listen Now button at the top of the page.)

Killer Crocs of Uganda

Shameless plug for Lance's band and their first CD release party (see him in the opening shot - no, not that guy you're looking at - and then later - some fine air work - that's Lance on vocals, too)

Emo's Lounge
6th and Red River (603 Red River)
Friday January 11
Doors at 8pm; Music starts at 9pm
Lineup: D.E.M.O., Killer Crocs of Uganda, She Craves, Steamroller

Some highlights prior to the show:

We'll be on Austin's music network ME TV, cable channel 15, once or twice the week of the show (including the “Red River Rocks” show). We don't know the dates yet.

Listen for show details on 93.7FM KLBJ-FM Local Licks on January 1 at 10:30pm. Tune in for a chance to hear a KCoU song live on the air.

KLBJ will be giving out passes and copies of the CD the week of the show.

Tito's is sponsoring the night and offering $3 vodka drinks all night long.

INsite Magazine will have a front page mention in their January issue, and A List will be doing giveaways at the show

We'll have CDs, posters, and we're working on T-shirts.

Nice Lance!

The Top Ten

Dad and I were recently joking about one of those serious family matters - the ones that are easier to take with a smile because otherwise it's too serious and a tad too painful. Dad suggested I turn it into a story for my blah-g, which made us cackle a bit, because again it's one of "those" stories that would make your grandmother gasp if she read that dirty laundry hanging out there for the world. We went back and forth until Dad suggested a "Top Ten Reasons My Family is Crazy" or "...Crazier than Yours" or my favorite "...Should be Characters in a Faulkner Novel".

I ran with the Faulkner idea then spent some time working that up trying to eek some funny out of it. But here's the thing... Faulkner wasn't exactly a humorist (well, maybe in a dark, stomach-churning, awkward way that makes you want to intervene - you know - that kind of funny) and shoving my family into roles that would suit one of his novels was becoming really un-funny. I laid out our Southern creds that would establish our claim, mentioned the family tree that occasionally looked more like a trunk (I think that makes us more rednecks, but that's another top 10) By #7 I had - "Some family members only recently got electricity." I think that makes us... Amish? but not really funny. I moved down to #2 "We buy our children to help-out less fortunate relatives." Ok, a good family story, but maybe not funny. The guy that the relative attempted to buy would agree. Finally, I made it to #1. But here's the hitch or the rub or whatever you want to call it - the #1 reason we'd fit in perfectly with Faulker recently made the local press, it involved a corpse and some jail time. Thankfully CNN wasn't having a slow day, because it read like one of the headlines that might have followed Britney Spear's womb. And I just couldn't make my fingers type that story. Sure, it was funny in that "OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT" way but didn't have that "universal" appeal.

So, you're going to have to trust me when I say that My Family Is Crazier... Would Make Better Characters in a Faulkner novel, etc and, if pressed, I could give you 10 reasons in a flash. Apologies to Dad that I can't do more with it - we'll have to recite the list to ourselves and snicker quietly. (To the Cearley's, it's not just Dad's side of the family that made that list. ;) You don't get off that lightly.)

Delusions

Dabbling with a dream...
Silently Watching

(...and when I grow-up, I want to be a real writer.)

Looking for Viola Instructor

For some time now I've been trying to find a viola teacher - going through music stores, the Austin Lyric Opera and finally resorting to Craig's List. Part of the problem has been that I'm difficult. Every high school student who plays an instrument is convinced they're ready to teach and while that's great, I appreciate their chutzpah, it's not what I personally need.

So, a few weeks ago I wrote-up exactly what I was looking for - my dream viola instructor - and stuck it out there on Craig's List. I wanted someone with a graduate's degree who played viola as their first instrument (not some violinist who got stuck playing viola because the section needed them - plus, I could do a whole story on personalities types in relationship to the instruments they choose - suffice it to say serious violinists make me grind my teeth) - someone who had taught adults and had some inkling of what String Project was. Then I waited... and waited... and I began to think I'd really set my sites too high and that's when Jason responded.

Jason truly had me with his signature:

"The bull-fiddle players were solemn men who played the notes set before them, however difficult, in a dogged and uncomplaining manner,
The cellists were also pretty reliable fellows,
But in the viola section, one began to encounter boozers, communists and even spiritualists."
-H.L. Mencken, The Tone Arts, 1903

... and then he sent me a link to his website, and my jaw hit the floor. It was decorated with banners like "Viola by Choice" and showcased his playing. He's played with some of the local off-beat groups in town, the Dixie Chicks and performs on the soundtrack for "A Scanner Darkly".

I really felt like an idiot calling this guy and admitting my viola skills are currently the pits and almost apologized for having the sheer audacity to think I deserved a teacher of his caliber. In fact, by the time he picked up the phone, I'd worked myself into such a fit that I blathered and couldn't stop despite my brain saying "SHUT UP, YOU BOOB!". I had to end the conversation by pretending I was still considering my options. This prevented me from screaming "OH MY GOD YOU ARE AWESOME! BE MUH TEACHER NOW KK!" I did manage to slip in, "I'm obnoxious. Do you handle obnoxious people well?" He really was forgiving and when he told me what his rates were (which he seriously undervalues and could probably get twice what he asks) he humbly offered, "I think they're competitive". Of course, I can't tell him that because it makes him affordable and I'm greedy.

Anyway, come January 7 I will be back in lessons. I'm excited! I have a beautiful instrument (I LOVE my viola) that will once again see the light of day. My goal is the Austin Civic Orchestra (if I can make myself practice) or at the very least a quartet and this time next year I want to play part of Handel's "Messiah" in one of the community groups. (Once upon a time, a long time ago I was paid to travel and perform this - up until then, I had played with full orchestras, but let me say that having that added element of the choir is amazing - so many voices - choral, winds, strings, brass... beautiful.) I wish everyone could have the opportunity to be "in" a piece of music - to be one voice among many coming together to create a sound; it's so much different than just listening. (My grandmother played stand-up bass and was touring when she met my grandfather who sang opera in his day and on the other side of the family that grandfather played 17 musical instruments. I absolutely cannot escape my love and appreciation of music.)

Big Tis

Seriously, I'm jealous of Seth. You type in the phrase "DHL Sucks" in Google, and you find his site in the top 3. (I think it used to be #1, but it looks like a more dedicated rabid DHL hater has unseated his site for the moment.) Still, if I were to forget Seth's URL, one short little phrase will set me right again.

That inspired me to find out where the traffic to my website comes from, and do you want to know the #1 search on Google that will land you on my page? Big Tis - I have no idea what that means, and you really have to work through all the "big tis" hits on Google to get to anything I wrote - you have to be serious about your "big tis" hunt and there really isn't much big about the tis on my site! Even if there were, what does it mean? Big tis? Is there a small tis? An average sized tis? When I went to Metacrawler to try to figure out what it meant, I was questioned with "are you over 18?" So, I'm thinking it must be some sort of typo. Let's run with the typo notion then, let's say you're looking for something big and of the mistyped, augmented, quadruple D variety - how do you get distracted by my site? Anyway, the whole "big tis" thing is just going to have to remain a mystery unless one of those searchers cares to comment.

So, today I'm looking at where traffic came from expecting a couple "big tis's" and I find something new "sixteen candles smell good big boobs". Huh. My first thought was, "wow, my searches are really lame by comparison" followed by "Tarzan have access to internet, meet girl, watch movie." Again, you're trying to find your smell good big boobs with your sixteen candles and you say "hey, here's the place"??

I'm here to tell ya, there's just no "smell good big boobs" here and stop that sniffing! It's creepy. Also, learn to type. It's not tis, it's tits unless you're looking for a holiday site, and that's not here either.

Don't Say Anything at All

Remember when you were younger how grown-ups had to occasionally remind you, "if you can't say something nice..." And they reminded you because you just threw-up socially with your uncomfortable little bout of Tourette's or you spoke "the thought bubble" - the one you're supposed to keep under wraps in polite company.

Then, one sad day your family turned you loose on the rest of us and you had to be responsible for your own mouth. Sometimes the warning lights would make you pause, while other times you'd see the red light and floor-it only to realize it wasn't worth it after the bar brawls or the local gossip advertised your little embarrassing gaffe in neon to the rest of the world, sending you on your way to being a social outcast.

Well, I'm here to tell you that phrase didn't simply mean "don't say "ugly" things - it also covered the "non-compliment". Basically, the phrase literally amounts to say nothing, nada, zip if it's not "nice" - and by nice, we're not talking drooly, over-the-top, blathering flatter - it's just what it is, it's "nice".

With that in mind, I'd like to addres a few comments I've received this week regarding my hair (note all comments were not followed by anything resembling the phrase, "it looks nice"):

"Did you dye your hair?" No, this is what a week's worth of non-washing will get you. So far, I'm digging the results and the freedom from the shower. LIBERATING!

"Your hair is darker." CRAP! I distinctly remember saying "blonde". Seriously, is it not blonde?

"Did you do it on purpose?" Oh hell no, that hairdresser tied me down and made me pay. I'm filing assault and aggravated kidnapping charges and don't think I'll forget about the emotional distress. I need therapy!

"It matches your shirt." Oh hey, I thought I wore the black shirt - must have accidentally grabbed the chocolatey-eggplant one by mistake.

"Did you do it yourself?" Yes. Well, I had some help from an epileptic chimpanzee. We'd like to do yours next. Sleepover? You should see what we can do with a needle and some ice.

Seriously, if you can't say something nice (or at least not inane), don't say anything at all. Inane just doesn't count as "nice".

Hey, Don't I Know You?

I really like the idea of reincarnation – the notion that maybe in a past life I was somehow cooler, played a minor role in history, or have always been around the same people over-and-over again (the ones I like, not those “other” ones) – that maybe my friend Jonathan was once my twin sister Helga and we merrily yodeled together in the alps while dancing our quaint dances and holding the occasional puppet show. My only problem with this idea is that it seems that everyone who believes in it, and who discusses it openly, seems to also believe that they were someone famous. This leaves me convinced that Cleopatra, bless her heart, must have become the most fractured soul in the universe. I was Cleopatra, our dog Sam was Cleopatra, the mailman… Cleopatra. In fact, I can’t throw an asp without hitting Cleopatra. This must be hell on the reincarnations of Julius Ceasar and Mark Antony. “Et tu, Cleo?” “Et tu?” “Et tu, et tu, at tu? Oh crap, I give up! Cleo, you’re like hangars and dust bunnies! I’m off to the local sports bar to find Octavius for a stiff drink. Steer clear of women throwing asps. Best of luck!”

I’ve riffed on this to friends earlier, but once upon a time I had my very own stalker. (Every girl should be so lucky!)

In college, my one and only stalker announced (right after sharing, "Beth, I know where you are every hour of every day") that he had known me in a former life. I was fascinated – someone knew little ol’ Egypt ruling me back in the day. But no, he didn’t know me when I was the infamous Queen of Egypt. On this particular go around I had been his concubine. Mmm hmm. I apparently fought at his back. (Very common in the middle ages - sword wielding females stomping through ick and gore on the battlefield, disemboweling, decapitating and removing pinky fingers. I doubtlessly wore a leather bikini and had skin, though supple and tanned, that could deflect nastiness such as arrows, swords and maces. I was probably both exceptionally hot and tough - a lethal combination in battle. Go me!) Let’s assume, for arguments sake, that this happened on a regular basis - that women were commonly found in battle, we are still talking "me" – see, there’s an inherent flaw in this notion – were I to mosey onto a battleground, I would get dirty and I would sweat and of course, there'd be all the stomach churning gore I was wading through. I don’t like any of those things and I’m pretty sure past life me didn’t care for them either. If we took the magic bus to crazyville and could see my past lives, I'm fairly certain they involved ridiculous ways in which I died - and if we're talking the Middle Ages - it was probably: plague, plague, plague, scarlet fever, plague, rat lovings, plague, badly abscessed tooth (when I wasn’t distracted by yodeling with Jonathan). People didn't live all that long back in the day, so I'm sure I had at least 10-20 misspent lives in that time period alone. So, to set the record straight, I’m certain I was no one's sword wielding concubine. (See, that can be the ugly side of being a full blown geek – all of your past life fantasies somehow resemble a Boris Vallejo oil painting. Psst geeks, Boris doesn’t typically paint historic figures.)

When I apply my reason to the whole thing, I have to face the fact that I might not have been Cleopatra (that was all of my readers) or a sword-wielding bimbo, but I’m still holding on to the dream that my name was once Heidi and I used to call to my sister Helga across the Swiss Alps while shepherding our flock of golden fleeced sheep and we once had adventures after growing this amazingly tall beanstalk… no wait, that was that other life.

Something Bad Happened...

Something bad happened in the state of Texas as things do every moment of every day in some part of the world. And it may have happened because the people involved made poor decisions, had a mental imbalance, or were quite simply “bad” people. I was drawn to the story in part because the article said “Texas” and because one of the news sites I frequently visit leans heavily towards the salacious and sensational. When I step out of my car I am cut off from NPR and left in the hands of online journalists. And in truth, maybe I read it because those stories make me feel a small bit better about myself.

In the beginning, I noticed there really wasn’t much to it – a handful of facts strung into a story about a couple who came together and did something horrific that they will never be able to take back. No one knew why, and the story could have ended in a few sentences. The journalists had done their duty and answered their who, what, when, where and why, but no good story could end in one paragraph. No reasonable journalist would end it there, and so where the story lacked meat, an overdose of fluff was inserted to ensure we readers had to scroll past half a dozen advertisements for home loans and weight loss miracles before we could move on to the next bad thing that happened somewhere else.

In the middle of the story a whole paragraph was devoted to the following line: “…and the couple met playing the online game, World of Warcraft”. You could hear the investigative journalist’s “gotcha” after they revealed the big “ah hah” to the reader. Online games – the journalist’s new Dungeons and Dragons – the why to all anti-social, psychotic, sociopathic behavior – the internet’s boogey man.

I’m here to tell you that of all the possible “whys”, I am almost certain the “how” of how they met played only a small part into the “why” of what they did.

I’ve met people online and trust me when I say that upon that meeting we didn’t Mickey & Mallory it across the country. Nothing snapped inside of me where I lost site of my moral compass. And to the best of my knowledge, the people I’ve known who have met their spouses online don’t kick puppies, litter, swear at the elderly or sit around poking holes in the ozone layer simply because it’s a slow day and it feels like the right thing to do (and they definitely don’t stick toddlers in a plastic bin and float them in Galveston Bay). It’s just another way of meeting people – it’s neither inherently good or bad, nor is it inherently safe or dangerous – it quite simply “is”. You can meet both good people and bad people, likeable and distasteful just like you can walking down the street.

And I’ll say again, something bad happened in the state of Texas, but it had nothing to do with how the people met and everything to do with who the people are.