A David Johnson, of many.
The other day I went to the top of a hill and found a piece of glass and large wooden peg in the ground by itself.
(In journalism, every story needs a peg; that is mine.)
Continue reading “It’s a good thing the future can’t dump its trash on us”
The other day, someone posted a comment on the online version of my column regarding a passing sort of mention to Pentecost.
“I was really digging this until the Biblical reference. Fantastic way to isolate everyone but your Christian readers.”
Continue reading “And the King James Bible turns 400 this year”
I sort of thought about doing something about the Super Bowl, but it’s now four days past, so the relevancy of the moment has escaped. Unfortunately, I don’t have aphorisms or anecdotes to illustrate that point. Erm, seize the day and make flee the sun. Or something. (I’m sorry.)
In any case, I’m entirely too happy about the outcome of the game: that the Pittsburgh Steelers lost and Green Bay Packers won, in that order.
Continue reading “I couldn’t decide what to do a column about this week”
The other day I found myself needing the sort of assortment of stuff that once sent folk scrambling all over town all weekend, but now can be had in about an hour at any Walmart.
I shop in the living-alone bachelor way indistinguishable from a man preparing for the apocalypse. I buy enough canned food to last six months, enough soap, toothpaste and toilet paper to last a year. Shampoo, two years.
Continue reading “The uniformity of franchises makes the individual shine through”
When we last saw Your Humble Narrator, he had just brought his vehicle’s resale value down by about two-thirds as the result of hilly terrain, a temporarily mobile home, high velocity and his own slow wit.
Also a guardrail. Also that.
But I was all right, and after checking under the now-bent hood, determined things looked alright, so I determined to drive on. I had a wedding in South Texas to get to, after all, and just hours to cover all the miles.
Continue reading “Something about dead flies and jars of perfume”
People often ask me what happened to the front of my car.
It used to be pretty, but for the past few months, the front near the license plate has been well-crunched.
So I say, “I was dodging a house.” Then they laugh and say, “It jumped right out in front of you, huh?” And I say, “Well…”
Continue reading “It was the bad karma from 10,000 dead butterflies”
The other day, I realized I probably enjoy Facebook a little too much, or at least for the wrong reasons. The social network super giant makes it almost too easy to creep — or rather keep up with everyone you kinda sorta met one time. Or might someday.
But Facebook is a lovely thing, as much as it is a monster.
Continue reading “The cartoon virus makes the world a more colorful place”
The other day someone pointed out that it’s been 11 years now since Y2K.
That is somewhat underwhelming, although impressive that we’ve managed to survive the apocalypse this long without noticing it.
Continue reading “But the shred of wrapping paper clings on yet”
Odessa police have reported inaccurate crime statistics to the FBI for at least a decade.
An Odessa American investigation into the Odessa Police Department’s Uniform Crime Reporting (UCR) numbers discovered police had misreported their own crime data in terms of incidents, clearances and arrests. Although generally making their results appear far worse than they should have been, police were unaware of the problem before the OA’s inquiry.
The investigation also uncovered the unsolved 2008 homicide of an infant, never publically reported, not only through the UCR but also to the media.
More than a month after discovering the errors, the software company, city technicians and Odessa police are still working to sort everything out in the massive, convoluted world of thousands of pieces of data and federal guidelines.
“For us, the headache is just starting,” Police Chief Tim Burton said last week, more than a month after starting to delve into why the numbers were off.
“I killed Satan.”
According to residents at West Fifty-One Apartments, that’s what 47-year-old James Spencer Williams said at about 9:15 p.m. as he walked around the courtyard with a bloody knife before running off.
In apartment No. 8, Antonio “Tony” Villa, 59, was quickly dying from a fatal stab wound in his upper torso.
Williams was arrested at 9:31 p.m. and charged with murder.
Villa was pronounced dead at 11:34 p.m.
It was a surreal scene, but one the residents of 2251 W. Fourth St. said they’d come to expect.
The complex shows signs of graffiti and vandalism, blood aged brown flecked the doorframe where Villa’s still-red blood had dried on the concrete below.
But Bruce Wood, 36, said he had lived there for a year, and it was a peaceful and quiet place before Williams arrived a few months ago.
“People could sit outside and enjoy themselves,” Wood said.
More recently, Woods said his own friends haven’t wanted to come over.
“One morning he was running around in his underwear and some lady’s shirt,” Wood said.
Other residents also described Williams walking around the courtyard wearing women’s clothing or very little, engaging in bizarre behavior such as digging holes and filling them with concrete, walking long distances barefoot at night, and ripping cushions to spread outside.
Residents said that several weeks ago, Williams used a bat to break windows on the lower level, including his own, which was the source of the older blood.
Inside Williams’ home, an assortment of odd and most broken items were plainly visible, including torn furniture, a bicycle on its side, and an upright baby carriage.
Abel Flores, 44, said Williams was somebody nobody wanted to be around, for other reasons.
“He had some kind of book,” Flores said, which Flores described as large and black, but he wasn’t sure if it was a Bible. Flores said Williams would walk around with his hands up, mumbling, “I ain’t afraid of Satan. I’ll kill Satan.”
“He claimed he was Jesus Christ,” said Sam Slate, 44, who said he was dating Villa’s 30-year-old niece Jo Dominguez. Slate said police had often been called out to the complex and Williams had been arrested before, but was never gone long. Slate said he wasn’t surprised by the stabbing.
“It was just destined to happen,” Slate said.
Although no one had a bad word to say about Villa, who didn’t live at the complex, Slate said Williams had fought with Villa before. Slate said things really got bad when Villa hit Williams with a shovel in an argument.
“James (Williams) said he was gonna get him back,” Slate said.
Joseph Fischer, 47, who lives in No. 8, said he and Villa were in Fischer’s apartment Monday night watching God’s Learning Channel with the front door open for the cool air.
Fischer said Williams just walked inside.
“We weren’t expecting nothing,” Fischer said. “I thought they’d kind of patched it up.”
But then Fischer said Williams yelled, “I’m gonna kill you Satan,” before stabbing Villa once with a knife and going back out the door, shouting that he’d killed the devil.
“We were all friends at one time or another,” Fischer said.
ADJ 