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Why scarcity of Greg Abbott signs in my red-ish neighborhood? His consultant answers

I wrote a little something yesterday about seeing Wendy Davis signs in equal number near my house as Greg Abbott signs. Only two each. That was surprising to me, since my area goes red over blue.

Now see this email from Abbott consultant Craig Murphy, who breaks down the economics of yard signs. Live and learn. He wrote:

You won’t many yard signs for statewides these days because of two graphs:

1) Cost per vote of a yard sign vs. all other ways to spend money.
2) Affordability of yard signs vs. all other options.

Those sound like the same thing, but they are not.

With regard to number 2) above, Abbott can afford anything, so he does not have to choose simply based on what he can afford.  So, he chooses based upon 1) above, which is essentially “efficiency.”  Yard signs are hugely expensive for Abbott (while still affordable) but very inefficient.

So, Abbott would HOPE people do not ask for yard signs and will not often suggest it.  He will have signs available at HQ, but not push it.  Where does he put his money? TV.  NOT MUCH MAIL NOR SIGNS.

Meanwhile, the Koop campaign pays about the same as Abbott does for a yard sign effort.  So, cost per vote is about the same for her. On the surface, inefficient.

But on affordability, signs look great to a Koop campaign.  She can AFFORD signs while not being able to afford DFW TV.  So, where does she put her money? Signs. Mail.

And one last thing about signs.  They have no message (other than “I am voting for Abbott, if you like me or like to go with the crowd, vote Abbott”).  Signs = Name ID.  A down ballot candidate like Koop needs name ID.  Abbott and Davis do not.

It used to be that these top of Ballot races like President and Governor needed yard signs.  Those days are gone.  I could drop 5,000 signs in houses around a huge county like Dallas County and you would have a hard time driving around and finding one.  To make a real dent in perception, you need to get 10s of thousands of signs up in Dallas County which is massively expensive and requires a huge organization to get them all to the right houses (and replace them when they are broken or lost).  And when you are finished, you have not increased your name ID or support by a bit.

That is why what is happening in your neighborhood is happening.

Why the scarcity of Greg Abbott signs in my fairly red neighborhood?

This is the political sign that's omnipresent in my neighborhood. Greg Abbott's signs are conspicuous by their relative absence. (Rodger Jones)

One thing that jumps out in my fairly red Richardson neighborhood are Wendy Davis-for-governor signs. There are a few. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised about that, given the fervor of some of her supporters. But I would naturally expect the Greg Abbott signs to outnumber the Davis signs. They don’t, and that’s curious, until you think about his understated candidacy.

Mi esposa and I took a pre-dinner walk yesterday through the neighborhood to get exercise and eyeball landscapes. We live in Richardson, in House District 102, now represented by Stefani Carter and soon to be represented by her fellow Republican Linda Koop.

Yes, you think that’s presumptuous of me, since the votes have yet to be counted. But know this: the district went Romney over Obama 53-45 percent two years ago, and Carter won 57-43. Koop signs were within eyeshot of every point along on our little jaunt yesterday. The zone is flooded with Koop signs. You can bet your house and the car on Koop beating Democrat George Clayton next week.

Anyone else’s signs were harder to find. We saw two Wendy signs and only two Abbott signs. One of the Abbott signs shouldn’t count, because it was in a yard crowded with signs posted for every GOP candidate in big races — maybe 8-10 of them. Abbott seemed to get a sign there by default.

Why do Abbott yard signs not appear in proportion of the GOP strength in my neck of the woods? I read into this picture all my predilections.

The major one is that Abbott is not a terrifically inspiring candidate. He hasn’t galvanized people who live near me to make a statement in their front yards.

Abbott’s careful, in a lawyer-like way, like the judge that he used to be. He’s understated and organized. His well-paid team has the bases covered, and all Abbott has to do is circle them. He does that, with no dramatic flair, nothing memorable.

From his staff’s point of view, nothing memorable is a good thing. Abbott hasn’t wandered into hazardous territory, like the overconfident Clayton Williams did with his disrespect of Ann Richards and oafish remarks about rape.

Greg Abbott has run about the safest campaign for Texas governor that I can remember, using a classic frontrunner’s strategy of taking no risks.

If you questioned voters about their image of Abbott, I’d guest most would have only a vague notion of what he’s done and what he stands for. Ask them what the unifying theme is for his campaign, and most people might be stuck, beyond knowing that he’s a Republican who dislikes Obama and other things associated with Washington.

Abbott’s the standard bearer of the political status quo. “Steady as she goes” is not an exciting message, but it’s a winning one to imply for today’s red Texas. Plus, it can be interpreted as “Not Wendy.”

But that strategy could put Abbott at a disadvantage in office. Say he wins by, more or less, the 13-point margin that Rick Perry had over Bill White in 2010. Would Abbott claim a mandate? If so, where would he now say his passions lie and would become his signature issues?

The problem is, given Abbott’s passion-less campaign, it will take a neat political transformation to rev up his engines to burn hot for governing. But, you know, given the competence of his organization, they’ve probably got that scripted out, too.

They better have. The truly passionate Dan Patrick, whose jets burn white hot for governing as elected lieutenant governor, has been clear about his priority issues — border security and education choice.

If Abbott doesn’t want to be upstaged politically by Patrick later, he better start rehearsing that passion thing now. It’s too late to produce more yard signs, but it’s not yard signs Abbott will need in vying for attention with the the silver-tongued Dan Patrick.

I wonder if Ebola is really the scare of Brett Giroir’s professional life

Texas Task Force on Infectious Disease Preparedness and Response director Dr. Brett Giroir, right, announces two Texas medical facilities to isolate and treat victims of Ebola and other health threats, at UT Southwestern Medical Center Tuesday.(Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)

Nicole Stockdale wrote the other day about Brett Giroir, the Texas physician leading the state’s preparation against the spread of Ebola and other virulent diseases. Giroir is the head of Texas A&M’s Health Sciences Center, the latest entry in a truly stunning resume. It includes service as a top official at DARPA, the defense research agency whose bywords are “Creating and Preventing Strategic Surprise,” and as chief medical officer at Children’s Medical Center of Dallas.

It was at Children’s that Giroir did work on infectious diseases that brought him renown. His work there in fighting an outbreak of meningococcal disease appeared to ignite his jets on making maximum professional impact on fighting pandemic threats.

I did some reading on Giroir and interviewed him a few years ago, when this newspaper named him a finalist for DMN Texan of the Year. At the time, he had helped attract to Texas A&M one of three federal Centers for Innovation in Advanced Development and Manufacturing.

That meant this, as we published in an editorial:

Giroir’s job is to get a new federally funded center running to mass-produce drugs and therapies to repel biological agents so insidious that they might have leapt off a Hollywood script.

Get the picture? Perry’s choice of Giroir a few weeks ago to lash together a response to the Ebola threat made perfect sense to me. So did his group’s quick action in organizing two centers in Texas — one in Richardson — to isolate and treat people who contract Ebola and other health threats.

I thought back to things I had read about him at Children’s, how the hospital treated young people who came from across Texas for treatment of meningococcal disease. The cause is a bacterium that attacks the brain and spinal cord. It can be deadly within hours, typically in children or young adults. Or it could cause a young patient to lose arms and legs to amputation. There are about 3,000 cases in the U.S. a year.

The Children’s ICU saw several new patients daily during one stretch, Giroir said in a NOVA documentary about the outbreak.

One quote of his, from the NOVA transcript:

There’s nothing more intense than the 24 hours when a patient comes in with meningococcal sepsis—the battle between life and death. They literally hang on the edge of a cliff just waiting to fall over.

And this:

We’ve always had the dilemma: How could a disease be so bad and kill so many children and adults, and leave many children and adults maimed? How can it be so bad when we know that the bacteria that causes it is so very susceptible to antibiotics?

And this:

We’re going to make a difference in this disease. It may take a few years to do it because it’s very complex, but this is the right point in time with the right amount of science—everything pointing in the direction that we’re going to impact it. We’re going to change it and—I’m sure we are.

After Children’s, and after his stint with DARPA, at the request of the Defense Department, Giroir returned to Texas to continue building infrastructure against pandemics. See this recent coverage from The Eagle, which references a drug in development at a manufacturing facility that Giroir helped piece together. It’s the type of big impact that he seemed to be talking about in fighting disease in Dallas.

I wonder, in his heart of hearts, what struck more terror into the core of Brett Giroir — the steady stream of young people into Children’s, or the outbreak of the dread Ebola virus among medical personnel at Dallas Presby.

Either way, Texas has a hardened medical warrior on the front lines.

 

Why I’m current on the latest sex research (or, how the sausage is made)

One of the things I do for this newspaper is compile the weekly column of snappy or evocative quotes. It’s called “Talking Points,” and it appears on the front of the Sunday Points section.

My ideal “Talking Points” compilation consists of one item from each of these categories, definitely not in this order of priority:

Sex

God

Sports

Business

“How we live”

Hollywood/entertainment

Politics

Big breaking news stories (war, Ebola, domestic strife, etc.)

Generally, I think, these things make a link with readers. Problem is, the sex category doesn’t always produce something printable. My standard is that it’s got to be tame enough so grandma will not want to cancel her subscription.

I think grandma’s OK with some titilation, and bona fide news often presents that opportunity. Here are recent quotes that made the cut:

From Oct. 12:

What do I sentence a guy who has sex in a squad car to?” – Oconto County, Wis., Circuit Court Judge Jay Conley, at a hearing for a man who had a tryst in the back of a police car with a woman after a drunk-driving arrest; he got 90 days for the DWI, nine days for sex episode (USA Today, Tuesday)

From Oct. 5:

“Negotiating Successful Threesomes” – Title of a free seminar during the University of New Mexico’s first-ever “Sex Week” activities, held to teach students safer and better sex (KOB-TV, Monday)

From Sept. 14:

“The reliance on air power has all of the attraction of casual sex: It seems to offer gratification but with very little commitment.” – Retired Air Force Gen. Michael Hayden, former chief of the CIA and National Security Agency, on Obama’s military strategy (U.S News and World Report, Thursday)

From Aug. 31:

“Who’s got a pelvis?” — Cleveland Browns rookie quarterback Johnny Manziel, dressed as a workout instructor in a Snickers ad, to a room of gyrating women (Dawg Pound Daily, Thursday)

From Aug: 24:

“Plaintiff … was shocked, horrified and outraged to observe this intrusion into her privacy for all to see.” – From a lawsuit filed by “Dating Naked” TV show contestant Jessie Nizewitz, claiming producers failed to fully blur every body part as she cavorted unclothed (Entertainment Weekly, Thursday)

From Aug. 17:

“I’ve got my hands on their butts probably more than their wives, so, you know, it’s a pretty unique trust and relationship you have.” – New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady, on working with the team’s centers (CBS Boston, Thursday)

Some weeks the well is dry. Those weeks I turn to Google and hit the words sex and research. That, I tell myself, gives me cover. It raises my standards a hair above the clickbait that oozes across most web pages I’ll see in a day. It keeps me from websites where my boss wouldn’t want me lingering.

It also keeps me up on the latest important discoveries on the sex frontier (or at least the ones that busy journalists and web mongrels understand well enough to write). I don’t always excerpt those, because they’re often devoid of snappy quotes.

Example from today that I pass along as a reader service (not that you’re the least bit interested):

Rubber ducks can kill your sex drive

There was no good quote in that one. Darn.

Luckily, I had seen a story a few days earlier about cyborgs — those people who are implanting technology into their bodies and brains. It’s out-there stuff that deals with developing super-human abilities.

One inventor foresees mass global Internet orgies through implantation of spinal devices.

I wouldn’t bet against it. Think of the profits possible selling cyber-sex.

And so I used his quote for this Sunday’s Talking Points. Go through the story (if you already haven’t). The quote is a natural. It takes awhile to find, but it’s a window into where technology is leading us.

It’s a good thing for my wretched soul that I found a good quote from Pope Francis to balance all that out.

Bless me, Father, for I was only doing my job …

Why Wendy Davis’s pitch on public education isn’t working

Texas gubernatorial Democratic candidate Wendy Davis talks to the media after casting her vote on the first day of early voting at the Charles Griffin Sub-Courthouse, in Fort Worth on Monday. (AP Photo/The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Max Faulkner)

Wendy Davis has two main campaign thrusts that, on occasion, cross paths.

One is that Greg Abbott is a corrupt schmo who would be the ruination of Texas. The second is that she’s for strong public education, while he isn’t.

Conventional wisdom might say negative campaigning works, but Davis’s attacks on Abbott have been turgid and monotonous. Her people look desperate to find good material, most recently insinuating that he might be a closet segregationist who’d defend a state law against mixed marriages. That’s a hard one to make stick against an Anglo who’s married to a Latina.

Before that, the Davis campaign burned up a lot of calories on his alleged lack of scrutiny of Texas Enterprise Fund applicants. That was too complicated to make a dent in Abbott’s lead, and it fell of its own, complicated weight.

If Davis wants to make headway among swing voters on top issues identified in polls,  she’s without a legitimate opening on most of them, given her Democratic politics. Likely voters in the Lyceum Poll cited immigration, border security, education, jobs and health care — in that order — as the state’s top problems.

She could never order stiffer medicine on border issues than Abbott, and her economic policies amount to an endorsement of the low-tax status quo. Since Abbott carries the GOP standard, he’s running as Mr. Status Quo. If you think Texas is heading in the right direction economically, Davis hasn’t made the case to switch parties.

That leaves education and health care for Davis, but health care has “Obama” written all over it, so it’s not a horse to ride to victory in Texas.

That leaves education. Davis’s strategy breaks down like this: 1) Insist she’s more serious about education than he is, and 2) use his record against him.

Davis talks a good game on public ed. She’s more aspirational. She aims for a Mars landing with her call for all-day universal pre-K. She wants to pay all teachers near the national average. Trouble is, her lack of attention to the bottom line makes her look un-serious. She’s never been able to answer why she hasn’t developed a strategy for funding, complete with price tag. Problem is, the cost runs into many billions, and she doesn’t want to go there.

In contrast, her fellow Democrat Leticia Van de Putte, running for lieutenant governor, aims for a mere Moon shot with her call for fully funding half day pre-K. That’s something that’s do-able in Austin next year, she says. The contrast makes Davis looks like she’s overreaching for effect.

That leaves Davis relying on the ploy of accusing Abbott of personally gutting public education to the tune of $5 billion-plus, as alleged proof that he’s not serious about educating kids. That has three problems with it.

First, Abbott can defend himself with his detailed, costed-out plan to boost public ed.

Second, Abbott didn’t have a vote in the Legislature and didn’t cut the money out of the budget. Yes, he defended the defendants in the suit against the state’s funding formula, but I think swing voters can distinguish between cutting the budget and serving as the state’s lawyer. Davis’s accusations here have become white noise. She might fire up a few somnolent teachers, but I doubt this campaign device lures persuadable voters to her column.

It pains me to write about the last problem with her education strategy. It boils down to this: I don’t think most voters care so much about public education that they’d want the state to write a bigger check.

It hurts to say that, because I’m married to an educator and my son is a teacher. I’d love for them to take home paychecks that reflect their value, commitment and contribution. But that’s not going to happen any time soon.

The public, I think, has become acculturated to think that teachers are out for the steady paycheck (such as it is) and the summers off. Teacher bashing has taken a toll. Blame Arne Duncan and other “reformers” of both political parties. Dallas Super Mike Miles once estimated that a third of DISD teachers aren’t up to standards.

“Reformers” will have you think that bad, lazy teachers are the cause of low performance in public schools. They’ll have you think that unions call the shots in public schools. People even think that about Texas, where membership in teacher groups is voluntary and where there is no collective bargaining for them.

When voters identify “education” as a top issue in polls, what do they mean? I wonder. I think it’s a reflex, borne of negative news stories about student achievement. Or it’s a sympathy vote for the neighborhood school. Or it’s a protest vote against “too much testing,” which has become a bi-partisan talking point.

I do not think most people consider schools underfunded, by and large. Superintendents and school boards aren’t out there crying for money. In the courtroom, yes, but not in the public. They’re making do, because they have to.

The result is the appearance of stability. There’s no apparent financial cliff. Districts are taking bond proposals to voters. Class-size waivers have leveled off since the budget cuts of 2011. When is the last time you heard of a laid-off teacher? Did the public even sympathize with laid-off teachers during the depths of the recession?

No, Wendy Davis doesn’t have the appearance of an education crisis to campaign on, and it’s hard for a candidate to gin one up.

Is someone who’s involved in the Ebola drama our DMN Texan of the Year?

Several dozen nurses from Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital gathered in front of the hospital to show support for their employer October 20, 2014 in Dallas, Texas. Three nurses delivered prepared remarks defending the hospital. (Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)

Many readers assume the Dallas Morning News Texan of the Year is going to be someone who’s been involved in the fight against Ebola. That’s a good starting point for our editorial board’s annual deliberations. It’s a local story, and a scary one. It’s also one with global and national implications.

A few months ago, I said a good TOY candidate would be Dr. Kent Brantly, of Fort Worth, who got the disease while working in a West African missionary clinic.

How things change. One newsroom journalist said cynically the other day that Brantly was yesterday’s news.

Is he? There’s a big difference between Brantly and personnel at Presby Hospital in Dallas. He signed up to go overseas, to a hot zone of a deadly virus that was raging through a vulnerable population. Medical personnel at Presby — and don’t take this wrong — were treating Thomas Eric Duncan because they were scheduled to work certain shifts there. I admire their commitment, but they didn’t put themselves in harm’s way like Brantly did. Tell me I’m wrong.

There are other TOY candidates from this Ebola threat. Perhaps the people at the Galveston National Laboratory, at UT’s Medical Branch in Galveston. How about County Judge Clay Jenkins, who caused a stir with his decision to drive a family exposed to Ebola to temporary quarters?

Are there others we should be sure not to overlook? Or others who have nothing to do with this disease or related panic?

Email me ideas, or add them as comments to this post.

Think broadly. Think arts, sports, law, public service, research, academia, politics. Don’t forget farming and ranching, religion and volunteerism. Education, especially. What teachers or thinkers are making a profound difference in a classroom?

Here is the list of nominees so far this year, based on ideas from readers:

Cathy McMullen, Denton activist who spurred vote on city anti-fracking ordinance

DeMarco Murray, Dallas Cowboys running back

Annise Parker, mayor of Houston

Stan Marek, construction executive and immigration reform advocate

Tea party in Texas

Gary Kelly, Southwest Airlines CEO

Maurie Levin, capital punishment defense counsel

Texas Defender Service, capital punishment defense counsel

Mark Cuban, of Shark Tank fame

Charlie Strong, UT football coach

Ron Washington, former Texas Rangers manager

J.J. Watt, Houston Texans defensive end

Anthony Graves, death row exoneree and justice advocate

Jim Harrington, director of the Texas Civil Rights Project

Wallace Hall, UT regent

Bill McRaven, UT chancellor

Kent Brantly, missionary doctor stricken with Ebola virus

Ebola researchers at the Galveston National Lab, UT Medical Branch at Galveston

Zachary Thompson, Dallas County health chief

Mike Rawlings, mayor of Dallas

Laura and John Arnold, Houston philanthropists

Ted Cruz, U.S. senator

Wendy Davis, state senator/candidate for governor

Clayton Kershaw, Dodgers pitching phenom

Kinky Friedman, humorist

Julian Castro, HUD secretary

Rick Perry, governor/potential presidential candidate

Phil Collins (honorary), pop singer who donated trove of Alamo memorabilia to Texas

Tim Duncan, world champion San Antonio Spurs player

Greg Popovich, Spurs coach

Dan Patrick, state senator/lieutenant governor candidate

Leticia Van de Putte, state senator/lieutenant governor candidate

Greg Abbott, attorney general/governor candidate

Laura Bush

George W. Bush

St. Vincent, singer-songwriter

Jim Parsons, TV actor on The Big Bang Theory

Lori Baker, Baylor prof whose project IDs the remains of immigrants who died crossing into Texas

Steven Polunsky, open-government-savvy former committee director in Texas Senate

Rick Lowe, MacArthur fellow, artist-in-residence for Nasher Sculpture Center

John Henneberger,, MacArthur fellow, housing advocate specialist in post-disaster rebuilding

Patrick Kennedy, urban planner

Dallas County Judge Clay Jenkins

Mark Phariss, gay-marriage litigant

Lawrence Wright, author

Jerry Allen, Dallas City Council member, payday loan reformer

John Dietz, judge who found Texas school-finance system unconstitutional

Johnny Manziel, Cleveland Browns quarterback

Carol Biedrzycki at Texas ROSE, fights for electricity reform

Alex Winslow of Texas Watch, fights for insurance reform

Janet Ahmad, of HOBB, which fights protect homebuyers from crooked builders

James Derr, A&M geneticist with American bison specialty

When do we see where a bullet train station could be in downtown Dallas?

The Central Japan Railway's Shinkansen N700. A later model of the electrified bullet train is proposed for service between Dallas and Houston. (JR Central)

The Federal Railroad Administration and TxDOT are conducting the first public meeting this evening on the private Texas Central High-Speed Railway’s plan for a Dallas-Houston bullet train. This newspaper is an editorial fan of the project.

If you go on the FRA’s website to look through project materials, you can see potential routes the service could take between the two cities. The company aims to use lots of existing rights of way, be it the state’s, another railroad company’s or a utility company’s. The train would be electrified and run along elevated tracks.

What you don’t see on the FRA website is detail on possible routes into and within downtown Dallas — or where the train station might be. Those details will be divulged later today at the FRA/TxDOT meeting, called a “scoping” meeting. I inquired of Texas Central VP Travis Kelly, and he told me this, via email:

The presentation to be given by the agencies tonight will show areas where station locations have been identified, both in Dallas and in Houston. The evaluation criteria and scoring matrix that resulted in the downselect from many alternatives to two will also be shown and spoken to. …

The agencies may wait until after the final scoping meeting to make these materials available on their website.

If you’re curious about “scoping” this out, I may see you tonight at the Infomart.

What are ‘informatics’ and how could they have helped Dallas’ Ebola patient?

Dr. S. Claiborne Johnston, dean of the Dell Medical School at The University of Texas at Austin and university vice president for medical affairs. Photo courtesy of Majed Photography.

We had the pleasure of an editorial board meeting this week with the first dean of UT-Austin’s new Dell Medical School, Clay Johnston. It so happened to coincide with this city’s biggest medical story in memory, and it was fascinating to hear some of the concepts spinning around in his head.

“Informatics” was one. At first I thought he was garbling syllables from a few familiar words, but he kept on mentioning “informatics” as a big thing in medicine. Google it. There’s a whole frontier out there for how we handle massive, complex pools of information and build systems to extract things in ways that help us, rather than inundate us.

To illustrate how informatics could have helped in treatment of the Ebola patient, Johnston said to think about the credit card. You can use it to charge items as part of your everyday routine. But let’s say you visit Canada and run up charges there. The credit card company has built systems to notice things like that. Somewhere a computer decides there might be a threat and the system needs to shout these words at the card holder: “Canada! Canada! Canada!”

Now consider the visitor to this country who went to Presby Hospital with a bad stomach and a fever. Johnston said ER personnel see countless cases like this, and sending them home with antibiotics is routine. Somewhere, it seems, his travel history from West Africa became part of the hospital record, but no system had been built to notice and decide there might be a threat. No system was in place to shout these crucial words to the physicians: “Liberia! LIberia! Liberia!”

In what U.S. hospital does that kind of informatics alert system exist? It doesn’t, Johnston said. It’s one area where he wants to lead the Dell school to prominence. The first class enters in 2016 and are hatched as physicians in 2020.

Hearing from people who dislike me for what I wrote about a watering warning

The mysterious glow of my sprinkler system's control center

It’s easy to rub people the wrong way, isn’t it?

I recently shared the experience of getting a warning from the city of Richardson because, as I said, my sprinklers were sprinkling when they shouldn’t have been sprinkling. That wasn’t enough of a mea culpa for some readers.

The real reason for the item was to convey the sense of how weird and vulnerable it feels to be the object of complaint from anonymous neighbors and surveillance by the cops.

Here are a couple of emails (signed, in both cases, but I’ll leave their names out of it) from people who didn’t like what I had to write. It looks like I needed to show more remorse, or vulnerability, for their sensibilities. But you know, my conscience is a lot clearer that that. Owing to my tiny yard, I’m not a big water user, and a couple of slip-ups doesn’t make me feel like I’ve flouted the spirit of the water restrictions, which I respect. I have the watering schedule on the side of my refrigerator and everything.

Oh, well. Here’s email No. 1:

I guess what I’m getting out of your blog entry is: You were breaking the law. We really do have a water shortage in North Texas; it’s not a trivial issue.

Someone reported you. There are those who might think that’s a legitimate thing to do. (You also might add to your list of “suspects” the Richardson Water department cars that drive around looking for these things. Are you sure it was a “neighbor”?)

Anyway, that person is now, as you say, your “enemy”. I don’t see how that follows, but is the message “You squeal on Roger, he’s your enemy. You don’t want Roger for your enemy. Oh wait … unless you have a badge and a gun.”

And this is because you got a legitimate warning notice (not a fine, not a “hauled into court” occasion, just a pretty mannerly notice that might be a cue to something you might not even have been aware of).

I guess I’m wondering if you meant to come across the way you did.

I responded in kind with this emailer, since he threw out a civil question. I told him I meant to convey a sense of shock for being the source of complaints and police surveillance after slipping up and failing to control my smart sprinklers. Sometimes I didn’t know I had slipped up, since they went off at night. You know, the surveillance makes you feel kind of paranoid. Try it sometime.

Emailer No. 2:

I am having a hard time getting past the comments you made about watering your lawn and getting a citation.

I don’t know if you have the attitude that I’m a good guy so making an occasional mistake is ok.  Or, I follow most of the laws so missing one once in a while is ok.  Or if it is more sinister or cynical and that you think you are too busy, too important or too whatever to have to obey the rules the rest of us follow.

And why do you assume it is an “enemy”?  There are newspaper, TV and radio stories constantly concerning how little rain we’ve gotten, the continued drought and how low are lakes are.  A reliable source of water for the future is a constant worry.  Could the person(s) who turned you in have just been worried about this?  And/or maybe they figured here is someone not complying by the rules and should.  Do you want everyone to start deciding which rules apply to them and which shouldn’t?  Again, I’m not sure why you just assume you have an enemy.  Could make for an interesting analysis.

You are typically one of the most conservative members of the DMN.  Hasn’t a constant theme of the conservatives been that you need to admit your mistakes?  Take responsibility for them, accept the penalty or make the changes needed and move on from there?  Something about personal responsibility?

 I know you stated that you fully admit mistakes were made.  But then you make excuses and implicitly place the blame on others and take it off yourself.  I don’t really think the conservatives believe all of that. I think it is just a good PR slogan to get people to their side.  Because in so many cases the conservatives show they don’t really mean it.  They are just hypocrites.  Like yourself.

Owwwww! Man, I think I’ll quit sharing. The guy gets personal. He wants to analyze me. He brings up politics.

I wonder if he has looked in my window to see if I’ve been watching O’Reilly as opposed to Rachel Maddow. Not that I’m paranoid now.

Does Bill Clinton help Van de Putte more than Michelle Obama helps Wendy Davis?

Bill Clinton (Photo by John Moore/Getty Images)

Gut reaction to news that Bill Clinton has gone public for Leticia Van de Putte in the lieutenant governor’s race and that Michelle Obama cut a radio ad for Wendy Davis in the campaign for governor.

As a Texas politician, who would you rather have in your corner — the nation’s foremost bubba or the wife of a very unpopular president and former Chicago community organizer?

Van de Putte comes out ahead with Bubba. It could help get potential votes from the undecided middle, those Yellow Dog Dems or independents who look at the name “Van de Putte” and wonder: “Is she one of us?”

Bubba Clinton gives her the seal of approval. It might be important to the Yellow Dogs who are attracted to Dan Patrick’s spiel on immigration but may be looking for reasons not to vote Republican. Bubba from Arkansas might get those votes.

Michelle Obama doesn’t help Wendy Davis with Texas bubbas. That’s a lost cause. The president has spoken condescendingly about people who “cling to” guns and Bibles. He was speaking of Texas bubbas right there. The fact that Davis got Mrs. Obama to do a spot all but announces she’s all but forsaking the bubba vote (even though she came out for open carry, in one very strange, un-liberal impulse).

What the First Lady’s spot is about is turning out the vote in Davis’s strongest categories, minority voters. Maybe the Davis calculus says Mrs. Obama helps her pump up her womens’ support.

But with Obama’s approval ratings at such a low spot and with former cabinet members openly sharing their disappointment with him, does the White House seal of approval do much for a Texas politician?

Van de Putte got the better deal of the two.

Does ‘new’ John Carona look like a mayoral candidate, or what?

John Carona’s people sent out an email that said this and only this:

Visit the new JohnCarona.com!

Here’s what the promo looks like:

Carona lost his bid for re-election to the Senate in a nasty GOP primary in which he was outflanked on the right by tea partier Don Huffines. Now, the “new” Carona says he’d like to “continue my record of service to you …” He says this is a “launch.”

With a decision pending by Mayor Mike Rawlings on whether to seek a second term, isn’t this a clear signal from Carona that’s he’s ready to saddle up?

The DMN’s Gromer Jeffers broached the subject with Carona a few months ago, and here’s what he said then:

“Serving in such capacity would be both a great honor and an opportunity to further give back to the city where I was raised. … However, I am not yet ready to seriously consider such a race. I am a good friend and supporter of Mike Rawlings and would, of course, yield to whatever Mike’s future plans might be.”

Given the additional time to consider the race, it looks to me like Carona is primed.

 

 

Setting record straight-ish on cost of Greg Abbott’s education plan

Greg Abbott (DMN file photo)

An item I wrote on the comprehensive education plan posted on Greg Abbott’s campaign page said he didn’t add up the cost, at least to my satisfaction.

In response, I got an email today from his deputy communications director, Amelia Chasse. Here’s what she said:

The total for all four plans is $775.5 million. Total for the first three plans (not including higher ed) is $387.5 million.

Phase 1 (pre-k—third) contained $118M for gold standard pre-K plus $64M for professional development proposals, totaling $182M.
Phase 2 (governance) will cost $41.1M over the 2016-17 biennium.
Phase 3 (digital) will cost approximately $164.4M for the first biennium.
Phase 4 (higher ed) will cost $403M.

Each of these numbers are contained within the relevant sections of the plan.

I think her last sentence was a nice way of saying, “Look, fella, you’d have seen the big numbers if you had read the plan more carefully.”

Well, I did read it fairly carefully. And just now I went back and key-worded for those four numbers. I found the $118 million in Phase 1, but my search didn’t pick up the others.

No matter. We have them now. And the exercise makes my point: Greg Abbott’s education plan covers a lot of bases — far more than Wendy Davis’s — but it could use better display when it comes to the bottom line.

Wendy Davis has expanded one-pager on education, now links it to blog posts by campaign aides

Wendy Davis (DMN file photo)

You’ve got to give credit where it’s due. Since I posted an item last week about Wendy’s Davis’s thin written outline on public ed, her campaign website has bumped it up a half a notch. It has taken the one-pager and created links to blog items that campaign staffers wrote over the months during the roll-out of Davis’s education plan.

One link takes the reader to a “guest post by Kelsea, a DFW-area student teacher.”

The one-pager can now transport the reader to a few additional one- or two-pagers, some that include bullet items of policy goals. I suppose that shows effort on the campaign’s part to give a fuller look to Davis’s education plan.

Still, it doesn’t compare to the careful, 91-page education blueprint that voters can find on Greg Abbott’s website. Abbott didn’t tabulate all his individual cost estimates and come up with an overall price tag for his blueprint. That’s too bad, but at least he had individual cost estimates.

The bigger failure in this regard is Davis’s, since she’s got bigger-ticket items. For example, go to her aide’s blog post on the Davis education pitch called “Great Teachers, Great Texas.” It lists a bunch of things that will look appealing to teachers. Here are two:

– “Expand the Teach for Texas Loan Repayment Program.”
– “Attract and retain highly-qualified teachers by bringing Texas teacher pay in line with the rest of the country.”

Both are money matters in a far longer list that hasn’t been costed out. These two were announced by the Davis campaign in January. There’s been plenty of time to put a figure on them and incorporate the specifics into the education plan.

Plus, shouldn’t Davis tell teachers just how big a raise she thinks they should have — in dollars? Professional educators in my family would be interested. Heck, maybe Davis could even pick up a vote from within the Jones clan.

It’s not that hard to find data on teacher pay. Google the National Center for Educational Statistics, and you’ll find a page listing the national average for teacher pay, along with a state-by-state breakdown.

It appears that the Texas average lags the nation by $8,000 or so. I’m sure the Davis people know this, so what exactly does she advocate, and how would the raises be applied?

Should every teacher get an $8,000 raise?

What would that do to performance-pay schemes in, say, Dallas and Houston, where districts are trying to make sure higher pay actually rewards something specific?

We will have to ask Sen. Davis when she visits our editorial board tomorrow. She will have plenty of uninterrupted time, since Greg Abbott has declined our invitation to sit and talk politics and policy.

Has Greg Abbott not costed out his education plan? I bet he has (and it might be big)

Attorney General Greg Abbott (file photo)

Yesterday my fingers got to typing about Wendy Davis and her thin education plan, at least those few parts that are committed to writing. I got on her case for not doing the important thing of costing it out. It would be expensive — billions just for universal pre-k and teacher raises to the national average.

It’s not fair, though, to forget about Greg Abbott’s failure to put out a cost estimate on his extensive education blueprint. He was asked about the price tag at the debate, and he said something about “$1,500 more a student” just for the pre-K element of his plan.

He trailed off at that point, appearing uninterested in talking about total cost and how to come up with the money. There are deep weeds he could get lost in there, and it might have been smart for him to clam up. It’s not snappy stuff, and Abbott doesn’t have the knack — say, Bill Clinton’s knack — to make dull stuff interesting.

Still, given the staff time put into the 91 pages of education plans, I have a suspicion that his consultants — and there’s no doubt he had some good consultants on this — could have come up with a price tag for a lot of the elements. And there are a lot of elements.

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Do we REALLY want to know which neighbors squeal on us?

Warning I got from the city of Richardson about watering on prohibited days

I have something in common with the author of last week’s fascinating Points essay, a woman who got raked over the coals by authorities for letting her kids play in the nearby park, unsupervised.

There were no coals in my case and no raking, really. What we had in common was the fact that a neighbor squealed on us for something.

In her case it was the accusation that she put her kids in danger.

My alleged sin had to do with the sprinklers that were sprinkling when they shouldn’t have been sprinkling.

I fully admit that mistakes were made. And somebody in the neighborhood was happy to point that out to the authorities.

Here’s what the notification says that was hung on my door:

“Multiple complaints about watering on prohibited days. The latest complaint was called in to the police and observed by an officer.”

Holy cow! “Multiple!” Police! I was under surveillance and everything. And it was at night, since that’s typically when the sprinklers go off when I forget to switch them to “off.”

That’s the essence of what my defense would be if I’d have been hauled into court for prohibited watering. I’ve lived in this house for a year-plus, and I have yet to master the fancy sprinkling system. I think it knows when it hasn’t rained in a while. I have a manual with details, but who could stay awake to finish it?

The thing I kept forgetting was that after watering “manually” on the allowed day, I needed to turn the darn thing off. Otherwise, the system springs to life all by itself later and neighbors will turn me in.

Now about those complaints: I’m curious about who squealed to the police, but I wonder if I really want to know. My chief suspects are the Garland city constable who lives across the street and the Dallas cop who lives next door and works nights. Either way, they make their living as sticklers for rules.

I suppose that official complaints to the city are a public record, and I could do an open-records request. They’d have to give it to me, no?

But what would I do with the information? Would I want to let nosy neighbors know their cover was blown? If it came to this, would I want to alienate a neighbor who wears a gun and a badge.

I think it’s best to find out the truth. Better you know who your enemies are on your block.

Why can’t I find Wendy Davis’s complete education blueprint?

Texas State Senator Wendy Davis (right), Democratic candidate, and Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott (left), Republican candidate, during the final gubernatorial debate in a KERA-TV studio in Dallas Tuesday September 30, 2014. (Andy Jacobsohn/The Dallas Morning News)

During the gubernatorial debate Tuesday, Sen. Wendy Davis unwittingly drew attention to her campaign’s failure to assemble and publish a comprehensive blueprint on public education.

Here’s how: As she’s done for months, Davis accused Attorney General Greg Abbott of planning to administer standardized tests to 4-year-olds. (That’s a regular sound bite of hers, but I believe it’s fiction; more on that later.)

Davis said she found evidence backing up her claim “on Page 21″ of his education plan.

As this newspaper’s editorial on the debate said this morning:

To which we say, at least Abbott has published a detailed blueprint for education, although he struggles to convey its essence to TV viewers.

Actually, the preschool item in question was on Page 21 on one of Abbott’s four written plans on education and higher ed. The point is that you can study all 91 pages of the Abbott plans for improving education and make up your own mind.

Compare it against the one-pager on education that Davis has on the “issues” section of her site.

Before we published the above editorial remark, I checked with the Davis campaign on where I could find the senator’s full written manifesto, if it exists. I couldn’t find it then, and I can’t find it now.

I called and emailed her chief spokeswoman and emailed another top spokesman, clarifying that I was interested in the Davis blueprint. I never heard back.

Continue reading →

Bests and worsts in gubernatorial debate

Davis’s best was Abbott’s worst — when she talked over him and eventually shut him up on the Texas Enterprise Fund business. That was odd, because I think it was his question to her to begin with, and he let it get away. He sounded almost cowed.

Abbott’s best is a low bar, because he’s not the most inspiring speaker. I suppose it might have been the recitation to the base there at the end. You know, the Ten Commandments, fighting for liberty, and excellent child-support collections. Unfortunately, for him, he said he accomplished that “as your governor.” Then he went into low taxes and jobs, always a winning close.

Davis’s low, for me, was her refusal to put a price on the long list of education goals she had. The questioner asked her twice, the first time asking where the money would come from. She used her time to chop away at Abbott, looking evasive in doing so.

Obama declares, on intelligence miscues: ‘The buck stops there’

President Barack Obama, interviewing with Steve Kroft on "60 Minutes" Sunday. (CBS News)

Ahead of yesterday’s “60 Minutes” broadcast featuring a sit-down with President Obama, I saw headlines suggesting the administration had been surprised by the ISIS threat.

I tuned into the show, expecting to hear Obama take responsibility. In cases like this, a president might utter the words Harry Truman made famous: “The buck stops here.”

With President Obama it was more like: “The buck stops there.”

The quote in question, from the president on “60 Minutes” (my underlines):

“Well, I think our head of the intelligence community, Jim Clapper, has acknowledged that I think they underestimated what had been taking place in Syria.”

I believe the country knows this already. Shoot, ISIS came roaring out of Syria, and in a matter of a few months, controls major provincial cities across Iraq. And they used bunches of materiel made in the U.S.A.

What I’m more interested in, from the president, is why mistakes were made. Do we have insufficient “assets” on the ground there? Did we misread the signs? Were we too optimistic?

Better yet, Obama should have taken responsibility.

For a role model, the president could watch an interview with a coach from any sports team right after a shellacking on TV. The coach couches things as “we.” As in, “We need to do a better job on special teams,” or “We have to take care of the ball better.” Or, “We have to be more productive with men on base.” He takes ownership, as part of the team.

Obama’s “they” quote makes him sound estranged somewhat from the intelligence forces.

I don’t know which is more unsettling — that, or the fact that this country was surprised in the first place that a renegade jihadist group could take enough territory to assert nationhood.

State fairs and me, and the makings of a Texas song, now sung by Shoot Low Sheriff

This is me, showing a front page story I wrote for my old newspaper in Ohio, in 1976. I quoted an "expert" saying the Ohio State Fair had the edge over the State Fair of Texas.

I fancy myself an expert in state fairs. At least the big ones. Let me explain.

In my pre-Texas days, in Columbus, Ohio, I was proud to be my newspaper’s official state fair reporter for a few years. That was a big deal. The way Ohio folks counted attendees, they figured it was the biggest state fair in the union.

Ohio State Fair belt buckle given to me by Gov. James A. Rhodes. His name's engraved on back.

The governor moved his entourage to the fairgrounds for a few weeks and tried to make news every day with his face in it. Other days, I tried to stir something up without him.

Once I sought out an “expert” to compare the Ohio State Fair to the State Fair of Texas. I was happy to report that the guy, whose concession company worked big fairs, said things like this about Ohio’s: “This fair has more to offer than any other fair in the country.” That gave something readers to feel superior about. And readers like to feel superior.

On the other hand, my expert put the Dallas fair ahead on things like grounds and the midway, which he called “the world’s finest.”

I could only wonder what he meant.

Fast forward a decade and the beginning of my 28 Texas years. The wondering stopped about the State Fair of Texas.

New Big Tex, the day he was dedicated in 2013. Photo by Rodger Jones. (Photo by Rodger Jones)

I now have as firm a handle on the Texas fair as I did as official correspondent for Ohio’s.

Just ask my kids. Just ask my grandkids. Just ask mi esposa. I’ve dragged all of them back and forth across Fair Park with the certitude of a tour guide who knows the must-sees and must-dos from the tourist clap-trap.

The experience has all but erased the memory tapes from Columbus. And it’s installed terabytes of new ones.

Most of them are sensual. Isn’t that what the fair is all about — a smorgasbord for the senses? A galaxy of sights, sounds, aromas and tastes. You go back to stoke those senses again and again.

You have your favorites. I have mine.

Here’s a few: Onions and sausage sizzling. The leather smell where they sell wallets in the Embarcadero. The hush inside a Cadillac in the auto show. The look of terror on people’s faces on that killer ride with the foghorn. The look of wonder on people’s faces when they see miracle knives do miracles.

Here’s a favorite: The place between Big Tex and the Midway where you can stand at the intersection of six or seven different loudspeakers. You call it a racket. I can listen  as long as it takes. Sometimes it takes a long time.

Me, and Old Big Tex just days before the conflagration in 2012. (Photo by Rodger Jones)

Don’t forget feels. Feels, of course. You feel the lamb’s back after it’s shorn for the ring. You grip the softball before slinging it at the dead weights on the Midway.

This was the stuff kicking around in my head eight years ago when I volunteered to write our annual editorial heralding another state fair.

I couldn’t help but dip into the memory bank. It needed structure of some sort, and I went for a musical backbone. And what better song than “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

We published the lyrics that came out of my head in 2006, on the editorial page, and we gave it the name State Fair Romp. (I anguished over the title for maybe an hour.)

I suppose a few people read it and may have sung it to themselves. Maybe it said something to them on the way to the dustbin of Dallas past. Or so I thought.

A few days ago, I overheard talk in my department about someone wanting to reprint the thing. Oh? That old song?

You know, it really seemed better than the dustbin. It’s not just my memories. I know that. I think people might relate.

And so I asked my boss whether we’d want to reprise the verse this year — not for me, but for fans of the fair, of which there are a few. She was game and said I should bounce the idea off dallasnews.com’s Robert Wilonsky. In a heartbeat, he said we should get real talent on the case. Shoot Low Sheriff, he recommended.

Man, our folks can deliver. DMN marketing maven Alison Draper was on the case. Shoot Low Sheriff was in the recording studio.

What a delight to have them perform this song.

Ask mi esposa. When we take a Texas road trip, I reach for vintage Bob Wills and Gene Autry CDs. It just seems right. I love the heck out of Asleep at the Wheel and the Quebe Sisters.

Shoot Low Sheriff is right there. Texas swing. Fiddle and horns. Carries you away. Isn’t that something for a guy from Cleveland?

Shoot Low Sheriff will perform at the fair on Monday, at the Chevy Main Stage. You can catch them at 4, 5:45 and 8:30. SLS’s Erik Swanson said he was still learning the lyrics but the band just might play the Romp at all three sets.

I’ll be there in the evening to say hello to them. I just can’t wait. What a monster treat.

And yes, I almost forget. We’re reprinting the lyrics in Friday’s paper. It’s always a kick to cheat the dustbin.

Should Richardson and Dallas lament that we’re (partly) pass-through communities?

I don’t know enough about the controversial Northeast Gateway turnpike project to have a decent opinion, other than this: Folks who live in the country for lifestyle reasons sure do resent being run over by reminders that they’re part of a big-city organism.

I can sympathize, sometimes. I can sympathize during my morning commute when I behold the screaming traffic on U.S. 75 in Richardson. I can and do ignore that highway, by moving on to the nearby DART station to catch a train downtown. But lots of people can’t, or won’t, do that.

A few days ago, some survey-takers greeted me at my DART rail platform and asked if I’d help with data-collection for planning the next generation of U.S. 75.

Sure, I said. What’s in it for me?

A $10 Amazon gift card, they said. I was all in.

The survey still awaits, but I can re-state my position here on the next-generation Central Expressway and email it to TxDOT.

First, I have some sorting-out to do: Is it fair for me to resent and demonize the very presence of this massive road through my community, in the way highways are sometimes blamed today as the fulcrum for gross civic malpractice?

Truth is, I don’t like the roar of the freeway or the way it bisects my neighborhood, but the utility of it for tens of thousands of commuters — many of them “outsiders” — can’t be denied. Richardson both benefits from Central and suffers its impact.

Richardson is, by a wide margin, a net importer of workers for its employment base of 130,000 jobs. It needs far in excess of twice the number of its own working-age residents to keep its businesses, schools, government offices and a university going.

Northbound traffic enters Richardson during evening rush hour on Jan. 12, 2012. (Louis DeLuca/DMN)

And when the huge CityLine development is fully functioning, with its cluster of State Farm Insurance highrises and the new Raytheon campus, thousands more will be working a mile up the road from me. Most may use the two highways that run alongside. Richardson might soon have more employment than downtown Dallas.

If I understand arguments from opponents of rebuilding downtown Dallas’ I-345, highways are the reason that many employment centers like these exist in neighboring communities, and not in Dallas. I don’t get that, really. It’s as though people are suggesting you could stuff the entire metroplex in the Dallas CBD.

Plus, many employers want a campus-like setting for their HQs, and they value freeway access. Downtown was never an option for them. I suppose that goes for Toyota, now headed to Plano. That certainly goes for Jerry Jones’ new Cowboys HQ and related amenities planned for Frisco.

Just as Richardson’s economic needs exert a pull for workers far beyond the city’s limits, employers to the north and south of us (in Richardson) do the same. Their workers pass through on Central.

In that sense, Richardson is not unlike central Dallas. We both are fed by freeways and act as corridors for pass-through commuters headed elsewhere.

Who of us doesn’t live in a pass-through community? And where does a pass-through community not benefit to some desirable degree? Rural people in the path of the proposed turnpike might say that’s them.

Back to Central Expressway’s future through Richardson: What I’d like TxDOT to do with this road is something our city leaders, along with Plano and Allen folks, have said about the next-gen U.S. 75: No higher, no wider. Dig a big trough and put the freeway down there. Cover it with some Kyle Warren-style deck parks. Tame the beast. Help Richardson foster civilized activity on the margins of Central, as opposed to today’s freeway frenzy.

That’s a similar position to the one held by Mayor Mike Rawlings and other Dallas leaders on rebuilding I-30 as it skirts the Fair Park neighborhood. Urban freeways can be better neighbors as they go about doing their jobs.

But my posture toward Central Expressway is way different from the one advanced by proponents of tearing out I-345. To my ears, they dismiss the utility of the roadway and would force traffic to find another way. They object that downtown is a pass through community as well as a destination.

Richardson is both, too, yet my community knows that decommissioning Central Expressway would be an unrealistic traffic blockade. Central is part of the economic landscape for thousands of workers and businesses, near and not so near. As is I-345.

No one community segment deserves veto power over the ability these workers and businesses to thrive.

I’m not sure where that leads me on the turnpike linking Hunt County. That road is not in the ground yet, so there’s no blockade, really, that enters the equation. Is it wise and fair planning? I sure don’t know.