At Home On Piety Hill

More lawmakers back U.S. control of Internet
Fri Oct 21, 2005 1:13 PM ET

By Andy Sullivan

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Three lawmakers in the U.S. House of Representatives called on Friday for the Internet’s core infrastructure to remain under U.S. control, echoing similar language introduced in the Senate earlier this week.

The resolution, introduced by two Republicans and one Democrat, aims to line up Congress firmly behind the Bush administration as it heads for a showdown with much of the rest of the world over control of the global computer network.

‘Turning the Internet over to countries with problematic human-rights records, muted free-speech laws, and questionable taxation practices will prevent the Internet from remaining the thriving medium it has become today,’ said California Republican Rep. John Doolittle in a statement.

Does anyone else think its a bad idea to hand over internet addressing and networking to countries like Iran and China? I like things the way they are… relatively free and open.

Jesus Letters In 12 Sports

Boy, did I ever find the site for Sadielouwho and her courageous contingent of friends who like to frolic in the waves. Get on your boardshorts or your one-piece and bathing cap… head down to the shore for some fun in the surf.

Check It Out

What an exhausting week. I actually stuck around work for a couple hours to catch up and now I’m listening to the Cowboy Junkies at a respectable volume. I’m one of those oddballs who, after a stressful day, will relax by hammering myself with some really loud music… it feels like getting tenderized.

The week started out well enough with barbecued ribs and beef brisket. Our trip to North Carolina inspired us and we had a hankerin’ for our kind of barbecue. I suppose I would classify it as Kansas City Barbecue or something along those lines. I’m not an expert… I just know I like it all. These ribs were smoked with maple from the tree behind me in the next photo.

Michele found me a wonderful apron for making smoke and searing animal flesh — I wear it with pride. Ryan, Natalie and Andrew brought Sadie and Dan over for a down home suppah’. Sadie brought punkin’ pie… she’s a country girl at heart

The table was set with plenty of sides. We had corn bread, brown bread, slaw (white), green beans, homemade applesauce and the blue crock holds Maine baked beans… yellow eye beans. Denise likes to use Jacob’s cattle beans, but hasn’t found them outside of Maine.

Later this week, I had to go to training down in Sacramento. They served lunch and it was, you guessed it, barbecue!!!!! I have to tell you, it was delicious and Chef Jake from Moveable Feast was there, so we exchanged strategies. He prefers cherry and apple wood over mesquite and hickory. I told him about my maple and occasional walnut. His tri-tip was perfect and had a great herb crust on it. I didn’t try the chicken, because… well, I get enough chicken.

It’s fall and Denise has created a holiday tree like the one my grandma Louise had at her house in El Monte (Emma Louise’s namesake). Denise started decorating with pumpkins and added fall leaves later. Grandma Louise had firecrackers on the tree for 4th of July and my dad would light them off under tin cans. That was sure a big deal back then.

I’ve been trying to spend a little more time alone with the Lord lately, walking or getting off by myself. Last Saturday I went searching around town for a taste of fall and I found it. I like the light and contrasts of fall; particularly the radiant, warm colors of the leaves against the cold, darkness of the bark on the maples and liquidamber.

This is the maple that borders the property with our neighbors. It can be spectacular in the fall, as long as it’s had enough water and doesn’t get too hot during October. It’s been a good year for fall in Nevada City. There was no color in North Carolina two weeks ago and our friends in Maine told us they just got their first frost today. This is very late for them.

We got our new iMac G5 about a month ago. We waited until the iLife suite had matured, particularly iPhoto. It is truly wonderful and it’s fun to have a computer that does anything you like, after struggling through the 80’s and 90’s — seeing the potential, but never realizing it. I have fond memories of Sam using Strata Studio, creating a 3D character and pushing the render button at about 10PM. We would wake up in the morning and it would just be finishing it up. Although we waited to get the iMac, we wanted to get it before our warranty ran out on the Powerbook. The optical drive in the iMac was DOA, so I called Applecare and a guy showed up in two days and swapped it out in about ten minutes. I was impressed. The drive is a dual layer DVD burner.

We have semi-retired the Powerbook. I will use it with Keynote for presentations and trips and such. Denise will use it around the house. Her computing habits were totally revolutionized by our wireless network. We had Camille’s old Presario notebook and installed a wireless card. Next thing you know, we had two laptops wireless with Emma networked via Ethernet and I even got my old Yosemite up. I toyed with the idea of turning it into a print server, but ran out of energy and time. Anyways, Denise enjoys the Powerbook very much, but it didn’t last too long…

I took the Powebook to work, sat down and got the screen open about .5 inch and the hinge popped and shot a piece of the monitor across the keyboard at me! Evidently, it was frozen and even cracked the case a bit. The hinges on the TiBooks are a known issue and I thought I’d escaped the scourge. I called Applecare, but got quite a different response than with the iMac. The agent told me a broken hinge is a cosmetic problem and not covered by the warranty. I became indignant, in a restrained way, and reminded him that it was a known issue and that the Apple discussions on their support site are full of accounts of people getting their hinges replaced. He checked with his boss and said they would repair it. Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a saga… I don’t need another one.

Goodnight, friends.

Art Review | Reviews: Sam Salisbury at Alison Jacques Gallery, London
Reviewed by Eliza Williams

Salisbury combines imagery from a range of sources, from his own photographs and films as well as shots from mass media, to create works where characters pass one another unseen across a canvas and women loom, both menacingly and seductively, out of night skies. His works are deliberately stylised, encouraging viewers to ponder on the narratives and tensions within the paintings, and the relationship between the sexes…

Read more in the October issue of ArtReview and view works from the show here. Newer works may also be viewed on Marc Jancou’s site by navigating to EXHIBITIONS > CURRENT

I just got home and my head feels pressurized… like it’s about to explode. So, I don’t have anything too profound except that in my meanderings this morning when my head felt like it was imploding, I came across these funny jpegs. The first one was found at Nacional sos el Decano del Futbol Uruguayo, which appears to be some sort of soccer fansite. The Salisbury’s always felt a certain kinship with the Simpson’s… perhaps that was all in my head.
Next, I found this jpeg titled “We found Nemo!” at Middle Age Madness. It made me hungry… a Philadelphia Roll, perhaps?

Anyway, that’s all I’m capable of today… I’m listening to Humble Pie Performance — Rockin’ The Filmore full blast. This, I think, is Peter Frampton at his shreddin’ best and Steve Marriott is soulful and intense. Steve will go down in history with Terry Reid as two of the most underappreciated rock vocalists of all time… They got so close.

Good night.

I’ve had a few new visitors to the site, so I thought I’d give y’all a big welcome and point you to a few items of interest. First, I got iPhoto working and uploaded my first slideshow. It happens to cover our trip to North Carolina and may be found at:

http://homepage.mac.com/bosalisbury/PhotoAlbum1.html

In the left column, you’ll find a number of goodies. First, we have the bloglings. There are four of us who started blogging at roughly the same time, although I think Levi was first. These pals are bloggeriffic:

• Sadico Junction This is my favorite kind of blog… a day in the life of a mom… a true web journal or log. She’s got a huge readership… much larger that Arianna Huffinpuff, dahling.
• culturezoo It’s hip, it’s funny, it’s downright Levitical.
• average joe Well written and a killer strategy to keep you going back… Joe’s posts are strategically doled out to keep his readers hanging on.

Next you will find some sites I created and maintain. Check out pygmies.net and the wonderful work our friends, the Kellermanns, are doing in Uganda.

Then there’s the stock Blogger stuff… previous posts and archives followed by the blogs I like. I’ll mention a few, but don’t get huffy if you’re left out… you made the left column and that’s pretty prestigious around Piety Hill.

• My favorite has to be the zombieslayer. Now, here’s a guy who writes some wondeful prose, while being alternately hilarious and thought provoking. He’s also one of the most devoted bloggers with a real job on the side. He’s so dang committed…
• Next is a new entry and he’s only got a couple of posts up. Peanut, Jelly and Butter is the blog of Patrick James Brennan… get it? If not, check it out. Pat is way smart and a way good writer… he’s also one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.
• Finally, there’s PyroManiac. This guy’s got it all… solid theology, solid sense of humor and solid design principles… He’s actually an amateur designer, but he’s done something pretty shrewd here. He’s taken the no-gamble, safe color combination of black and red on white and turned it into some pretty compelling compositions. He’s done a good job of teaching himself Photoshop.

Finally, here are some of my favorite older posts, buried deep within the archives. Hope you enjoy / hate / love / agree with / reject / embrace them!

• It’s All About Oil
• John Cipollina: Electric Guitarslinger
• Accidental Providence Installment #4
• Christians Are Guilty Gainsayers
• It Really Matters What You Believe
• Irritation of the Sith
• Week In Review July 10 – 16
• Fantastic Voyage
• 29 Years Of Marital Bliss
• Blog Break
• One More Day
• Cheney ‘08

We heard this one was good, but didn’t find it until the day before we had to fly out of Durham. Fortunately, our flight left at 1:15PM and Allen and Sons opened at 10AM. This family owned barbecue has all the amenities… a faded out, old Pepsi sign by the roadside with a burned out bulb. It’s located right next to the railroad tracks, which is always a good indicator of authentic Carolina barbecue.

The cinder block building is down-home and the sign needs paint. Out buildings include the rusting hulk of an old ice cream truck and mobile barbecue trailers, once used at fairs and stock car races and such; now, replaced by a fleet of white catering vans, they sit mute, tires flat, holding up boxes of napkins and stuff.

Mr. Allen was a butcher at an A&P Market before deciding to open up a traditional barbecue shack. He and his sons do things the old fashioned way, waking up each morning at 3AM to split the wood and begin smoking the pork; No electric oven/smoker for the Allens and that’s good news for the barbecue afficianado!

I’m glad we finished our trek here, among real country folk. The chopped pork had the smoky flavor we sought and the traditional sauce was tart and tangy, as it should be. The ribs were meaty, tender and served with a sweet sauce, more like we westerners are used to. The slaw was good and white — we never ran into the red slaw and that’s a shame. The potato salad was different than I’ve ever had. The potatos were diced small and the salad was runny. It was good, but quite sweet. We learned that sugar is in just about everything in the south. The hush puppies were great. Like Bullock’s, they leaned more toward the onion and I like that. They were also round, which is what we’re used to at Sandra Dee’s or other soul-food places in Sacramento.

We had plenty of time to savor our final grilled banquet, but it was more food than we could polish off. So, we had to get our dessert to go and eat it later. We settled on the peach cobbler, baked about ten minutes before we arrived. I chose the coconut chess pie, which is coconut shredded (looked like frozen hash browns) in a homemade pie shell. Both were absolutely perfect and a fitting farewell to North Carolina.

We had to fill up the rental car with gas down by the airport and there we saw the one barbecue that got away. Next time we visit Emma, we’ll book a flight to arrive somewhere around supper time and schedule this one first on our itinerary.

Sunday evening Denise and I got together with a community of Christians meeting in downtown Durham, Emmaus Way. This is a missional church, a plant of the Chapel Hill Bible Church. From what I can tell, it’s an emergent church… following that philosophy or bent. Tim Conder led us in a discussion of the dichotomies present in Jesus’ suffering with the two thieves on Calvary. Our reflection on the crucifixion began with Marilyn Ormsbee-Strother speaking about the inspiration for a watercolor she painted and the thoughts that were going through her mind as she created it. Then, Wade sang a wonderful song he had composed after reading The Dawntreaders titled Strip My Skin. Finally, Rebecca read an amazing story she had written, from the perspective of the thief on the cross. The gathering reached its apex in the Lord’s Supper.

The folks of Emmaus Way were mostly younger than us, which is sure to become more common as time marches on. They were warm… friendly, welcoming. It seemed perfectly appropriate for Denise and I, travelers, to find hospitality and instant kinship in Christ.

After leaving our new found friends, Denise and I resumed our search for another sampling of Carolina barbecue. What we found at Q Shack transcends human language. Beef brisket, smoked for hours the same way I do it at home. The chopped pork and beef were pink, tender and moist. Denise was enraptured as she savored the first spoonful of beans… “mmmmmmmm” was the only syllable uttered.

When I think of barbecue, I certainly don’t think “subtle.” No, barbecue by its very nature must be intense… hot… provocative. And, Q Shack was all of that from the slaw to the beans, from the smoky meat to the zesty sauce. This was our favorite so far.

Denise and I split a two-meat platter with two sides: beans and slaw. The complimentary hush puppies were excellent and the bbq was accompanied by what must be obligatory at any quality smokehouse — store-bought, cheap white bread! I suppose if you are going to sop up the mess with the bread, it should be as bland as possible so it won’t taint the heavenly flavor of that hoddgepodge that collects at the bottom of the plate (or take-out container in this case).

The reigning champ? Q Shack! But, stay tuned. Tomorrow on our way to the airport, we’re making one last stop at Allen and Sons. Thank you Jesus for barbecue and for the family of God in North Carolina.

The girls and I were returning from our drive in the country, flying down NC Hwy 421, loaded down with apples and keeping our eyes peeled for barbecue joints (down by the lake? T Bone Burnett, anyone?) A sign caught my eye: “Books 75% Off.” It was hoisted prominently over the 421 Flea Market.
This flea market (or “swap meet” in southern California vernacular) was deceptively ginormous. There were tables and pickup trucks laid out over a large field, selling used treasures from clothes to martial arts weapons and country home décor to GUNS! What appeared to be storage or industrial buildings at the rear of the property housed the actual flea market! There were hundreds of stalls displaying the tackiest junk I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know such junk existed.
Emma was understandably mortified and we could barely walk the rows, alternating between uproarious laughter and stunned disbelief. It was beyond any caricature of the south I have ever seen or heard. I think we were literally in shock for the first ten minutes before I regained my composure and began snapping these photos.
My favorite vendors were Appalachia’s answer to Restoration Hardware, Garris Gifts (did someone drop the H?) and the hillbilly chiropractor… very professional, indeed. The Hispanic community represented here was the largest I’ve seen since my youth in East Los Angeles… who would have known that I would have to go across the country to the hollows of North Carolina to find myself at home.
I’ll let the photos speak for themselves and will be happy to field any questions or comments concerning the objects d’arts on display.

The travel log continues from Addison’s Inn located in beautiful Wilkesboro NC. Today we plan to travel along the apple trail, seeking the magical fruit, as well as more barbecue.

We began in Chapel Hill and no trip with the Salisburys is complete without at least one visit to a native Post Office. The Post Office is located across Franklin from UNC and has a number of wonderful murals throughout the customer lobbies.

The rotunda at the UNC visitor’s center displays a number of wonderful paintings, an energetic sculpture of President Polk, as well as a beautifully crafted clock and barometer. The painting in the photo is a portrait of Rembrandt’s sister by the artist.

We headed east to Wake Forest University, where we reconnected with a family friend who is a student there. We continued to Pilot Mountain, which was the inspiration for the town, Mount Pilot, mentioned often on the Andy Griffith Show. From there, we went to Mount Airy — the hometown of “Sheriff Andy Taylor” and the real-life village behind the Town of Mayberry. The view from Pilot Mountain is spectacular on a clear day.

Emma and dad posing on the summit overlook.

Denise found the lawn art capital of the world just over the Virginia state line and picked up a few small treasures for the yard.

I found a quiet mountain retreat to blog from along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Here we are outside Emma’s apartment in Carrboro. She is all settled in and is acclimating to southern living. Chapel Hill and Franklin St. are only about a mile down the road and she is within walking distance of a great little restaurant that specializes in health food: grits, bisquits, red hots and fatback.
After the apartment was moved in and decorated, Emma found it a bit gloomy so she hung a few strings of lights and voila! The place is quite comfortable with reasonable rent, utilities paid, cable and high speed internet are included. Emma, like her mother, can sure shop for a bargain!
We found Emma working at a quality vision center near her home. Her optometrist and co-workers seem like a fun-loving, professional eyecare team. We brought them their first taste of See’s Candies and they were pleased.

Emma has visited a local Bible Church and tomorrow evening we will be checking out a “missional church” in Durham, Emmaus Way.

Emma is very resourceful, cheerful and organized in her new setting. It is gratifying and comforting to see our last fledgling out of the nest and doing well. Thank you, Lord.

We’re on the road in North Carolina, visiting Emma and sampling a little bit of Carolina barbecue.

bar·be·cue Pronunciation Key (bärb-ky) n.
1. A grill, pit, or outdoor fireplace for roasting meat.
2. A whole animal carcass or section thereof roasted or broiled over an open fire or on a spit.
3. A social gathering, usually held outdoors, at which food is cooked over an open flame.

The term itself comes from Haiti: “1657, from Amer.Sp. barbacoa, from Arawakan (Haiti) barbakoa “framework of sticks,” the raised wooden structure the Indians used to either sleep on or cure meat. Originally “meal of roasted meat or fish,” modern popular noun sense of “grill for cooking over an open fire” is 1931.”

Emma’s friend Jumon insisted that, if we want some Carolina barbecue, we should start with the best: Bullock’s in Durham NC.

I had the chopped barbecue, which is the traditional spicy sauce, heavy on the vinegar. The battle over red slaw vs. white slaw was settled long ago at Bullocks and I loved their mayonaise-based slaw: sweet and diced fine. The french fries were wonderful and the service was superb. I had sweettea (all one word), but I must admit… it’s too sweet for me and that’s saying something.

Let’s move away from the closeup and you can see Emma’s choice of Brunswick Stew. It was the best with all sorts of beans and distinctive flavors.

Denise had the sliced barbecue, which is pork in a sweet sauce. Every table is served as many hushpuppies as you like and they were by far the best we’ve ever had. They weren’t too dry or too moist, but just right. Onion was up front, but not overpowering.

Denise and Emma couldn’t put those hushpuppies down. Carolina barbecue is different than the barbecue we are used to. Here are a few examples…

In Sacramento, we like Sandra Dee’s the best. It’s hot/sweet with excellent side dishes and desserts. I like the corn with jalapenos and cornbread.
In August, we spent a week with Denise’s brother, sisters and nephews in South Lake Tahoe, where we found a Texas syle barbecue worth mentioning, Womack’s. The meat was expertly smoked and fell right off the bone. The sweet potato pie was killer.

Both the Short and Salisbury families grew up on Chris-n-Pitt’s barbecue, a chain of restaurants true enough — but, as the photo demonstrates, a force to be reckoned with in the universe of American cauterized cuisine.

The Times October 07, 2005
No dancing and no gays if Hamas gets its way
By Stephen Farrell

A VISION of an Islamic society that bans mixed dancing and sternly disapproves of homosexuality has been given by Mahmoud Zahar, the most senior leader of Hamas in Gaza. After controversies when a Hamas-led council halted a dance festival and Islamist gunmen stopped a rap band performing in Gaza, Dr Zahar defended the enforcement of a strict interpretation of Islam.

“A man holds a woman by the hand and dances with her in front of everyone. Does that serve the national interest?” Dr Zahar said on the Arabic website Elaph. “If so, why have the phenomena of corruption and prostitution become pervasive in recent years?”

Well, I hope all you progressives are happy about recent events in Gaza! You were ecstatic at the images of synagogues reduced to rubble and anti-Jewish demonstrations. The American flag burnings and the christophobic slogans thrilled your souls, as you witnessed the triumph of social justice for an oppressed people. But, then it happened. As in other socio-politico revolutions, when the victory is sealed the true face of the movement emerges and, in the case of Hamas, it is particularly ugly.

NO MORE DANCING. I hope you are satisfied, because now the genie of chorophobia is out of the bottle, these traditional mainstream Muslims will not rest until every disco is boarded up and every contra dance in every Grange Hall across America is silenced. When this Palestinian brand of Islam comes to America, no dancer (amateur or pro) will be safe except in their closet. Speech codes will be strictly enforced banning any talk of dance from the foxtrot to the robot. Swing dancers will be forced into the back alley.

Of all the phobias out there, chorophobia is perhaps the cruelest because it denies a human’s inborn, primal yearning to gambol with ones partner or in the language of the common man — to strut one’s stuff, y’all.

October 6, 2005
Theologians debate message of Katrina
By RICHARD N. OSTLING
Associated Press Writer

New York’s Union Theological Seminary began the academic year with an explosive speech by Bill Moyers, late of PBS and CBS television, who was introduced as ‘the most respected journalist in America.’

“Most respected journalist?” Says who? Dan Rather? Union Seminary sure has slipped since the golden days of Bonhoeffer, Barth and Tillich! And, what are they doing mixing religion with politics? Perhaps Mahatma Moyers will enlighten us.

‘The country is not yet a theocracy but the Republican Party is,’ Moyers charged.

“Etymology: Greek theokratia, from the- + -kratia -cracy
1 : government of a state by immediate divine guidance or by officials who are regarded as divinely guided. ”

Wait just a minute… he must have the Republicans confused with that other party… the party that ran a failed seminary student for President… the party of the Reverend Al Sharpton and the Reverend Jesse Jackson. And, let’s not forget the Bible totin’ Senator and President Clinton. The former First Lady used to communicate with the departed spirit of Eleanor Roosevelt… would that qualify as divine guidance?

‘Democracy is in peril.’ He compared conservative Christian activists with Muslim terrorists who can cite ‘many verses in the Quran’ as grounds ‘for waging war for God’s sake.’ America’s ‘homegrown ayatollahs,’ he stated, are deceitful bullies whose ‘viral intolerance’ undergirds ‘an unprecedented sectarian crusade for state power’ and ‘political holy war financed by wealthy economic interests.’

Please allow me to translate Mr. Moyer’s bigoted, progressive patois: Tolerance is the only remaining virtue with one exception: there will be no tolerance for the Christian who doesn’t know his place… the closet. Those Christians who take their faith out into the neighborhood, the school, the court, the public forum, medicine, the arts and to skid row are intolerable.

Moyers cited the incredible devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina and linked this with the Genesis flood. He noted that millions of conservatives believe the biblical teaching that God brought the deluge to punish human sin and also accept ‘God-ordered genocide’ elsewhere in the Old Testament. His point: It’s dangerous to ‘read the Bible as literally true,’ and liberals must resist those holding that belief.

It sounds as if Mr. Moyers is the danger to democracy and the sad thing is that, he’s so deluded by years of fawning and veneration by his colleagues, he doesn’t even know how pathetic he sounds. He debased PBS and CBS; now he’s defiled Union Seminary!

Newsday.com: Anesthesiologists Take Pride in Music: “Anesthesiologists Take Pride in Music

By LINDSEY TANNER
AP Medical Writer

October 2, 2005, 4:03 PM EDT

CHICAGO — General anesthesia or local? Hip-hop or Sinatra? These are among the decisions facing Dr. Frank Gentile in his double-duty job as anesthesiologist and self-styled DJ of the OR. He doesn’t use a microphone or speak in a fake baritone. But the eclectic range of CDs he loads onto the anesthesia cart headed for the operating room would impress any bona fide disc jockey. Gentile’s collection is between 50 and 100 CDs, and his iPod holds about 5,000 songs.

‘I choose my music strategically. I know my surgeons’ tastes,’ says Gentile, the anesthesiology chairman at Edward Hospital in Naperville. There’s Eminem and 50 Cent for one surgeon who likes rap — the songs are ‘cleaned-up’ to avoid offending anyone. For another doctor it’s Metallica. Others prefer oldies or opera. Gentile picks different types of music for different stages of surgery. Many surgeons prefer up-tempo beats for the final stage and one doctor Gentile works with ‘always closes to J-Lo.’ Many U.S. operating rooms have sound systems, so playing music during surgery has become commonplace. Some doctors say it relieves the tension; studies have shown it can also benefit patients, even reducing the need for anesthesia somewhat during surgery. ”

Finally, they must believe me!

Everyone seems skeptical when I tell them about surgeons and music at UC Davis. The first time I was wheeled, conscious, into the OR I spotted a desktop stereo system perched high atop some shelves, against the pale green tile. I asked, “do you guys use that during surgery?” The answer was in the affirmative and I learned later that the trauma team under F. William Blaisdell listened to classical music, while other trauma teams preferred classic rock. Thank God I wasn’t being grafted to Free Bird! Having your skin “harvested” with the dermatome is torture enough without being subjected to classic anthems such as Black Dog or Highway To Heck!

I was also informed that the plastic surgeons listened to rap and hip-hop, but I was skeptical… until my friend with necrotizing fasciitis confirmed this fact to me months later. Some of the younger doctors were prepping him for the “peel and stick” operation and the collapsible gurney did just that as they were preparing to move him to the operating table. While this was going on, some gangsta rap was blaring at about 113db. He told me that he was cursing a blue streak when the plastics surgeon ran in and turned off the music. “I want a real surgeon,” he shouted. “These guys aren’t even old enough to buy beer!”

Okay, so why does a hip, swingin’, fashion-conscious guy like me shop at Ross?

Obviously, there’s the value angle. Your clothing dollar will go much further at Ross than at some boardshop boutique or Harajuku mercantile where a sullen raggedy Ann or Andy, with black lipstick, scans your purchases while singing along with Green Day’s American Idiot. For me, it’s all about fashion. Where else could you hope to find a stylish RATT* t-shirt like the one I’m wearing in the photo? The moment I pulled it off the rack, my right arm involuntarily thrust it’s self heavenward and my butane lighter ignited. Awesome!!!

*Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever enjoyed RATT or the music of RATT. I am an afficianado of late ’80s screen print t-shirts.