METRO COLUMNISTS

My column today is about Dallas' resident authority on grammar and word usage, Bryan Garner.

Colleague Bruce Tomaso tells me that he's a subscriber to a free daily e-mail with a usage tip from Garner. He said he's learned a good bit but had no idea that Garner was a local.

The e-mails come from his publisher, Oxford University Press, and you can subscribe here if interested. I have.

Are you old enough to remember when VCRs first came along and little video rental stores began popping up? I think Lori and I actually paid $100 for the privilege of joining the "video rental club" at a store near our house.

Then came mighty Blockbuster. One by one, the independents all fell away. Blockbuster stores popped up on every corner. And I remember thinking that its monopoly on the video business would never end.

But nothing lasts forever.

Dallas-based Blockbuster continues its fight for survival against Netflix and Red Box and emerging digital downloads.

I'm rooting for Blockbuster to survive. And remembering that nothing is permanent in this life.

I'm sorry to report the suicide of an unusual fellow who played into a column a couple of years back.

It began with one of those lost-and-found columns. A Dallas man found an old diary among his family's belongings, but he had no idea where it had come from.

Based on a few clues in the diary, I put out a request for information. And that led to J. David Moeller. The Chicago resident was the baby mentioned when the diary began in Dallas in 1945.

Turned out he was a real character -- a wanderer, actor and writer. An acquaintance of his informed me of his suicide last Friday, which is confirmed in the Chicago Sun-Times.

Here's one of his web sites. But if you really want a long, disturbing glimpse into his life, here's his online memoir.

This morning, Steve Blow and I took our Talking Race trick up to a retirement village in Coppell, where, it's fair to say, we were well-received. Actually, they loved me and put up with Blow.

Anyway, as I walked in, an elderly lady pushing a walker quipped, "I read your column this morning, and I hope you didn't come for our walkers."

She was referring, of course, to the updated article about the Lake Highlands couple's efforts to collect a thousand crutches, canes, walkers, wheelchairs and the like for Haiti's earthquake survivors.

A lot of folks are interested in that campaign. I just listened to one voice mail from a 91-year-old lady who wanted to know if I could come by her house and pick up a wheelchair she wants to donate. Said she's not driving anymore.

I'm hoping Steve Blow can swing by there on his way to Sunnyvale and pick the darn thing up. So hold on, Ms. England, hold on. (Seriously, I'll see if Rick Hawkins, who's in charge of this drive, has any contingency plans for such situations.)

My friend Deborah Morris sends along this link to a Time magazine essay that argues we're sending too many kids to college.

That's what I've been preaching for several years now. The college-prep curriculum in our schools may be pushing some kids to greater achievement but it's also pushing a whole lot right out the school door.

BTW, Deborah has worked with high schoolers for years through her church, and she agrees with me completely. She has seen how the expectation that every child will go to college leaves a lot of good, talented kids feeling like losers.

I spoke last night to a group of folks at the Park Cities Club, and it was great to see Joel McClendon in attendance.

I wrote a column six years ago about Mr. McClendon and his memories of the luncheon that never happened -- the one President Kennedy was supposed to have attended at the Trade Mart back in November 1963.

Mr. McClendon had a wholesale business in the Trade Mart back then -- and still does today.

He's 96 and still going to work every day (after going for an aerobics workout first).

Mr. McClendon doesn't believe in retiring, and I love his reasoning. "If you keep walking around, they can't bury you."

Awhile back I lamented that a lot of animal issues in the news -- like the fuss over euthanasia methods in Garland -- obscure the fundamental problem: Pets that aren't spayed or neutered.

If you know of animals that aren't fixed, this is the week to fix that.

The Metroplex Animal Coalition is offerieng spay or neuter surgeries for the greatly discounted price of $45. That price also includes needed vaccinations and a veterinary exam.

The hope is to reach pet owners who otherwise couldn't afford the services.

To make a reservation and find the nearest location, visit www.dfwspayday.org or leave a message at 972-671-0429.

Thanks goodness that I talked myself out of investing in a handy tool push snow off my driveway. I didn't even need a broom for this.

The magazine and television program This Old House has named East Dallas' Junius Heights as one of the five best old-house neighborhoods in the Southwest.

It was the only neighborhood in Texas so honored.

Congrats, Junies.

Call Andissu Andabo what you please. Good Samaritan? Absolutely. Hero? In my book, yes.
Read the story for yourself.

But if a guy is driving by, sees a car on fire and rushes toward it, unconcerned about the potential danger of running across LBJ Freeway (near Abrams Road) or approaching a possible explosion, then that guy has earned my eternal respect.

"He made me proud to do what I do," said Fire Capt. Todd Wilson, who noted that he hand't seen heroism of that sort in the 23 years he's been a Big D fireman.

The 39-year-old woman who was in the burning car, by the way, reportedly is OK and apparently didn't sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Intriguing read offered today by my colleague, Diane Jennings, who delved into the issue of whether inmates who've been exonerated should pay federal income taxes on their wrongful-incarceration compensation.

I say no. Texas lawmakers who pushed for compensation packages in the Lone Star state say they never intended for Uncle Sam to put his big paws on the dough.

Money quote: "We want them to get the maximum recovery that's possible for being wrongfully imprisoned," said Rep. Rafael Anchia, D-Dallas. "Just a a practical matter and a moral one, a moral basis, I don't think they should be taxed."

Apparently, the only way around paying taxes is for the feds to regard the compensation as "pain and suffering" payouts, much like with insurance settlements. Well, if spending years of your life behind bars isn't pain and suffering, then I've got a false impression of our what prison life is all about. Perhaps Congress can spend a few months behind bars deliberating the matter, and that might just clarify their thinking on the matter.

Seriously, Congress, do the right thing here and take your hands out of the pockets of exonerees who've already been shortchanged.

The snow's real nice and all, but we're on the verge of exhausting our treasure trove of "arctic blast" and "winter wonderland" cliches, feature ledes about the ringing laughter of children celebrating an unscheduled holiday, and slide shows capturing the whimsical joy buliding a snowman in the front yard and trooping inside for a steaming cup of cocoa dotted with an archipelago of marshmallows. I'm just sayin'.

I'm still plowing through the e-mail in reaction to Sunday's column about illegal immigrants and whether they should be deported or given the opportunity for legal status here.

Personally, I believe that those who have worked hard and stayed out of trouble should be allowed to stay.

Opponents of that view have provided most of the reaction to the column. But I'm gratified to see that a majority of Texans agree with me.

According to the poll I mentioned in the column, 38 percent of Texans favor deportation, but 29 percent favor a path to citizenship and 23 percent want them to stay with work visas.

Put those last two groups together and you have 52 percent of
Texans saying the immigrants should stay and get the opportunity to achieve legal status here.

That other 38 percent sure drowns out the majority in this debate.

Avatar (now in theaters)

Cinema as thrill ride. See in 3-D, if at all.

Awhile back I confessed my fascination with Pastor Melissa Scott, the widow and successor of one-of-a-kind TV preacher Gene Scott.

A half-page ad in today's newspaper says she's coming to town March 2 and 3. Oddly, the ad doesn't say where. I called the phone number in the ad (800-452-0735) and got a recording saying she will be at the Family Cathedral of Praise in Mesquite.

Apparently in the time since I last wrote about Pastor Scott and her sexy sermonizing, it has been reported that she is former porn star Barbie Bridges.

Show time... er, I mean service time is 7 p.m. both nights.

Phantom of the Opera (now on stage at Fair Park Music Hall)

Still gorgeous. But time to branch out, Dallas Summer Musicals.

Tiger Woods' 14-minute mea culpa has detractors due to its logistics: the hand-picked audience, the no-questions-allowed, the upstaging of an ongoing tournament.

But as 'sorry' speeches go, it was excellent, one of which political handlers coping with similar scandals should take note.

--Tiger did not drag his wife up there with him. He had to stand in front of the cameras alone, thus sparing her not only the spotlight, but protecting her from obnoxious speculation that "she made her deal" and will put up with anything to save her own swanky lifestyle.

--He didn't use formulaic, self-absolving cheatin' athlete patter about "poor judgment," "bad decisions" and "moving on with my life." He pretty much owned up to being an arrogant, satyritic creep who thought he was too special to observe fundamental rules of decent behavior.

--He seemed genuingly embarrassed, coming across as a person who has come to view his excesses not as fruits of his success, but as vulgar and humiliating.

--Finally, he acknowledged that nothing he says and no amount of sincerity in saying it changes or proves anything. He seemed to have accepted that it will be a long time, if ever, before his good name is restored.

Obviously, some people aren't buying it; some sponsors may never come back into the fold; Woods' marriage may not endure. But if he has genuinely decided to become a grownup - and he's sure not the first person who enjoyed a prolonged adolescence just because it was available to him - he made a pretty good beginning.

Tiger Woods is delivering a well written statement, and he's doing a good job with it.

You may not have known Bishop Larry McGriff, who died suddenly this week after suffering an aneurysm.

But you might remember his wedding in December -- the one that hundreds had to be turned away from.

Such a sorrow.

Joseph Stack may have believed he was making a fiery and awful political statement, but he wasn't. All he proved in slamming his plane into an IRS office building in Austin was that he was a self-absorbed creep, a nut who willfully marinated in his own anger. Let's quit trying to turn this screwup into some kind of a Nathan Hale.

I keep reading hints of "yeah, but..." from commenters who seem to believe the IRS, or Wall Street fat cats, or the church, or whatever the hell else this crank was on about are enough to drive anybody crazy.

Reading Stack's lengthy farewell screed is dismaying in that it's so familiar - and so boring. There's an unoriginal sameness to the writings of these homicidal megalomaniacs: I've been persecuted, I've been cheated, none of it is my fault, I'm obsessed with my own rage, and I'm going to show the world how mad I am. It's a parallel to the wife-abuser who insists he had to do it because she pushed his buttons.

The Joe Stacks of this world are, mercifully, statistically rare. But they're not particularly special.

Not sure how else to explain this rant in which he calls President Barack Obama "intellectually shallow" and "the most incompetent president perhaps in our lifetime."

Armey must've been living in a cave for much of his existence if he really believes either of those statements.

Seriously, this sort of over-the-top rhetoric is precisely why nothing that people really care about can ever get done in Washington -- and why folks get so disillusioned with our political "system."

The caustic campaigning just never stops. Tea, anyone?

I was driving behind a red pickup yesterday with an intriguing sign across the back window:

In Memory of 'The Best Human Ever'

Wow, what a compliment! But to whom?

It seemed strange that you would memorialize someone in such a public and vaunted way. And yet in such an anonymous way.

It's an intriguing idea -- best human ever. Any nominations?

Dallas Police Chief David Kunkle isn't the only one defending the validity of his dropping crime statistics.

Former New York Police Commissioner William Bratton is doing the same in the New York Times today.

This news is a month old, but I just stumbled across it. And as a proud son of Smith County, I can't tell you how my chest swells to see the headline:

TABC Agents and Smith County Sheriff's Deputies Catch Moonshiner

It may be 2010 in most places, but not in every corner of East Texas.

Pass the rot gut.

I'm sorry. I know this is an old argument. And I know people just cannot get enough of the aw-gee canine cuteness that is the venerable American Kennel Club's Westminster Dog Show.

But, seriously, which part is the sport? The part where people try to breed their dogs to exact specifications? That's a contest. The part where they parade them in front of the judges? That's a pageant.

I will admit to being a little bent out of shape on the topic because, in the show's 100 year history, the big prize has never gone to a lab or a golden, the most superior dog varieties on the planet (although I did like that sweet beagle that won a couple of years back). The fix is always in for some kind of terrier or spaniel or a poodle with a humiliating haircut.

For sport I want to see some dogs chasing frisbees, or dock jumping, or rolling over with their feet in the air in order to get their stomachs scratched.