My morning ritual is pretty set by now. Around sunrise the cats jump up and down on me so I get up. Throw on yukata, stagger into kitchen, start coffee. When I'm flush, it's Peet's Maduro; in leaner times, it's Starbucks Morning Blend. This morning it's Starbucks. Put the beans in the grinder, and try to remember to put a filter in the cone before dumping in the coffee. When I remember the filter bit, I know I'm on top of my game. While the coffee is brewing, I exit through the garage and get the paper from the foot of the driveway and take a weather reading, then amble back in while scanning the headlines and sneak the first cup amidships.

The ritual was going pretty good—I didn't dump the coffee on the counter—and I was almost back in the house when I saw the headline in huge 72-point bold type and couldn't believe my eyes. No, it wasn't the Venezuela thing, which is awfully important, and it wasn't the Israeli shelling thing, and it wasn't the O'Neil resignation. No, the headline read:

Tide left high and dry
Franchione leaves Alabama
for the Texas A&M Aggies

The Digital World

It isn't Hollywood, according to the LA Times. There's an amusing story here about how the new Star Wars film almost missed out on an Academy award nomination because it was filmed in digital.

Back in its Beverly Hills offices last June, the governors ceased their discussion over the definition of digital in a "Star Wars" world, raised their hands and voted unanimously. The rules are clear: In the eyes of Oscar, "film" is not required to make a motion picture.

The Cozy World

It's so cold outside that the First Fire of Winter is warranted. The Raven went out and wielded an ax and made kindling. This task makes us men feel macho, and needed. Then I set up the fireplace with my patented Firemaster technique. Touch one match to that baby and all you gotta do after that is toss a log on every now and then. NPR is running a Coltrane special tonight, so the plan is a roaring fire, a couple of glasses of red wine, and A Love Supreme.

7:04:47 PM       

A strange and cold morning down here in the tri-states area off the Gulf Coast panhandle, which means our exotic deck-dwellers are refuging in the garage and living room. Note to interior design pros: A kafir lime tree makes for good feng shui and a stand of lemon grass infuses a festive citrus scent just right for the holidays. An odd morning scan turned up an assortment of stories that we hereby submit to your judgement.

The Party Animal

At least it still appears to be animate, since we ruled out vegetable and mineral for the time being. Strom Thurmond turns 100.

Here you see the D-Day veteran presiding over the Blowing-Out of the Candles. A check with an online birthday-party supplies distributer reveals that with an average box containing 36 candles, Strom's cake required 3 boxes' worth, plus a gang of designated blowers to extinguish the subsequent roaring inferno. Against all odds the "Thurmond-ator" maintains his reputation as a Ladies Man:

"I love all of you—and especially your wives," Thurmond told his colleagues in a November farewell address on the Senate floor.

The Money People

You ever notice how in stories about illegal aliens, you usually hear that they're sending money home to their families somewhere? I never thought much about this, but if you're an illegal, you can't exactly walk into a bank and ask 'em to do a wire transfer for you because they want you to have an account, and that means ID. Turns out there's an entire underground banking system called hawala, that not only handles these kinds of transactions, but offers better rates and faster service.

The linked story is an Interpol briefing on hawala with an angle on how it's used to launder money by criminals, but I found the explanation of how they manage to move cash around without moving any cash to be utterly fascinating reading. Unlike a bank, with all those guards and vaults, a hawala broker can set up shop with a notebook and a cell phone. [Prentiss Riddle]

Justice, Uzbeki-style

According to an article at Reuters this morning, the Uzbek authorities are pretty rough when they get their hands on you. They want a confession, they're gonna get it. The headline is what drew my interest: "U.N. Rapporteur Says Uzbek Torture 'Systemic'." A rapporteur? Is that a professional troublemaker? Nope, turns out this is an old word from the 1500s meaning "one who prepares and delivers reports for an administrative body." From the looks of what they dug up, the Uzbekis got their know-how from the KGB.

The Cringing Dog

Here in the States, we have the Federal Trade Commission to oversee trading activity. In Japan, they have the Fair Trade Commission. In theory, if a Japanese company engages in illegal trading practices, the FTC is all over 'em like Norwalk virus on a cruise ship. Anyway, a story at The Asahi Shimbun this morning titled "New teeth proposed for FTC" got me laughing. These guys are wimps, and even their internal documents admit it: "The Japan Fair Trade Commission actively submits its views and opinions on other government agencies' regulations which fall under the jurisdiction of such agencies."

Since the FTC now has just 14 outside investigators, including attorneys, among its 269 investigation staffers, the council recommends hiring more private-sector specialists...

Sleep Away the Pounds

Everybody wants to eat, and we also want to be thin. But nobody likes having to put in those hours on the treadmill. Here's an NYT story about a lawsuit filed on behalf of our FTC and two states against Mark Nutritionals, a San Antonio-based outfit that's been marketing the "Body Solutions Evening Weight Loss Formula."

The weight-loss formula is a liquid that consumers are instructed to drink before going to bed and at least three hours after eating or drinking.

Turns out it was just substantial hooey mixed with "aloe vera gel and various herbs." But enough people bought it to net the company $190 million over the last three years. While there's breadth, there's hope.

11:21:12 AM