An officer and a gent: I'm an HPD officer who works in the ExxonMobil building across the street ["Can't Get Arrested," Hair Balls, by Richard Connelly, June 23]. Several people pointed you out and wanted to know what was happening. When I saw you, I knew it must have been someone from the Press trying to get a ticket from HPD for jaywalking. Maybe the other cops thought the same and were not going to be baited! Love your paper!
Name withheld by request
You Swing, You Miss
TicketsFri., Feb. 24, 8:00pm
Gridiron Glory: The Best of Pro Football HOF -- 10A-3PM
TicketsSat., Feb. 25, 10:00am
Rice Owls Mens Basketball vs. Louisiana Tech Bulldogs Mens Basketball
TicketsSat., Feb. 25, 7:00pm
Gridiron Glory: The Best of Pro Football HOF -- 10AM-6PM
TicketsSun., Feb. 26, 10:00am
What a rip-off: While I enjoyed the story on Dock Ellis's LSD no-hitter ["High Times," by Keven McAlester, June 23], I've just got to ask: What in the hell does this have to do with Houston? True, as a player for the Pirates, Dock pitched in the old Dome against the Astros, and he did play a couple of years for the Rangers up in Arlington, but really, where's the Houston connection? It's not like there aren't enough drug-addicted former jocks that have a connection to this city that you can do a story on. Or is it just easier to rip something off from one of your sister papers than it is to do some real work?
Not bothered: Well, I have heard how many people out there got bothered by this excellent article ["Out of the Park," by Mosi Secret, June 16]. All I have to say is that this was an outstanding article by an outstanding person for an outstanding athlete. You did great with it. Congratulations!
I was able to spend time in the dugout with all the baseball players, and they showed more confidence on the field than in the dugout. When the Austin-Chavez game was going on, people asked themselves and each other why Aaron Treviño was still pitching after hitting some players. At that moment, I believe it wasn't about that anymore -- it was more about how Aaron handled the situation and the fact that it was his last time at this. Once again, congratulations on the article.
Stirring Up Debate
Cajun vs. Creole: I just finished reading your article on Soul on the Bayeaux ["Pan-Louisiana Fusion," by Robb Walsh, June 23]. I was raised in Metairie, right outside New Orleans. Most of our dishes were Creole cuisine, and according to my parents, who have been in Louisiana since 1719, Cajun cooking is not in New Orleans cooking.
When I make seafood gumbo, mine is rich as compared to a seafood gumbo from Lafayette. Cajun is just more "au naturel," without the creams, sauces and flour used to thicken the gravy -- at least that's my take on the differences. The Cajuns cooked off the land. The more European stuff you add to it, the more Creole it gets.
I once read an article that the name "gumbo" was given to a pot of stewing okra by the plantation slaves of the South who did not speak much English. When I worked in uptown New Orleans, there was an old black lady who had a "Creole soul food" restaurant out of her house a couple of blocks from St. Charles Avenue and Napoleon Avenue. I loved that combination.
I cook Cajun-Creole, and it suits my family and friends fine. Yeah, sometimes I get comments like "That's not real Cajun!" -- but if it pleases the palate and has the Louisiana tradition of good taste and good times, then so what? I still feel that good Louisiana cooking is the best cooking in the whole, wide world, bar none! Of course, I may be a shade prejudiced.
Barry B. Begault
Stop Robb: I read with great interest the letters complaining about Robb Walsh and his piss-poor reviews.
It's about time people complained. His reviews are invariably tedious descriptions of his dining companion, his gourmand pretensions or his latest "discovery." What we get are rambling reviews that display his ignorance and frequently miss the point.
Sack him now, or at the very least limit him to less than half a page and get some other reviewers.
Darren Le Geyt
Not sold on swankiendas: Regarding the Christian's Tailgate letter [Letters, June 23]: "But I do want to live in a place that's clean and makes me feel safe. I think McManus should have done some research. It appears that he's more in his element in the Montrose."
Times have changed in Montrose. The same element is there that's in Midtown. As a 25-year Montrose resident, I prefer the days when one would not admit to living in Montrose because of the stigma associated, and when Midtown was known as the Fourth Ward and Freedmen's Town contained loving families and crack whores. Former mayor Kathy Whitmire's vision of the revitalization of the Fourth Ward and Freedmen's Town was much more palatable than the smegma that's there now. From my personal experience, where money goes, thieves follow. In five years, when your Perry-built swankiendas have collapsed into the rubble from which they were constructed, all of you will turn tail and run back to the burbs. And those stalwart few of the Montrose element will be there to clean up after you. Again.
Don't flatter yourself: To Ellen Moore,
Ellen, those "hooded people" are nothing like me [Letters, June 23]. You see, Ellen, I respect the law.
As for yourself, you claim to be one of the hooded demonstrators who wore a hood out of fear of FBI reprisal, yet you sign your name to a letter to the editor. This makes no sense. You claim you wore a hood because of fear that the FBI might collect a dossier on you as a "domestic terrorist." Ellen, you have a mighty inflated opinion of yourself if you truly believe that the FBI has the slightest interest in you whatsoever. I can assure you that the FBI is quite busy right now fighting "real" terrorists of another kind: those who might try to bring a nuclear device or a dirty bomb into the United States. I seriously doubt that the FBI is interested in Halliburton demonstrators who wear plastic Dick Cheney masks while milking a cardboard "cash cow."
Your perceived fear that the FBI might be looking to collect dossiers on the Halliburton demonstrators makes me wonder what flavor Kool-Aid you've been drinking. Get a life.
Mary L. Bell
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