And what of Ted Williams?

If I say the great Ted Williams, you think baseball player, right? Okay, I skewed your reaction by throwing “the great” in front of his name, so if I just say, Ted Williams, it is just as likely that you will think about the roller coaster story that began a couple of weeks ago. Ted “The Voice” Williams, discovered on the streets of Columbus, Ohio, looking worse for the wear, got another shot at life, because a videographer stopped at a light to give a dollar to a homeless guy. I say another shot, because as the story has unfolded Ted has had many chances with the help of family and friends, to fight off his demons, though one can’t be certain he has ever been properly treated.

The story of Ted Williams was really the first story of the new year concerning mental health, not that anyone paid any further attention after the second story, the Tucson shooting, overwhelmed Williams’ story. Ted Williams had trained in radio and, at 71, still possesses the holy grail of broadcasting, the great voice. Ted, according to his story, had been in radio but fallen on hard times through addiction and “other things”, which turned out to be a criminal record. Ted’s is another of those moments that speak to the best and the worst of us. Worse than that, it speaks to our indifference. Andy Warhol’s promise of 15 minutes of fame for everyone did not exclude the promise of the nightmare of fame.

There are, of course, many reasons for homelessness. Loss of employment, victim of domestic violence, home fire, mental illness and addiction are just a few of the problems that precede homelessness. In my years as a legal aid housing lawyer I came into contact with hundreds, if not thousands of homeless and at-risk people, each one with a unique set of facts that resulted in losing a home. Some folks were just unfortunate, others were reckless, self-destructive or non-compliant with a treatment program.

One of my clients lost not only a home, but an infant child, in a fire in their mobile home. The fire also destroyed the family’s only car, which eventually resulted in the dad losing his job and all of the bad credit that followed. Depression and substance abuse followed. They were young and torn apart by the loss. They felt guilty when they were offered housing when all they really wanted was their baby. It took over two years to start to put their lives back together.

Another client, an obsessive-compulsive, fixated on junk piles waiting for bulk trash pickup in front of houses in his neighborhood. He could not resist the urge to pick up items he considered useful and bringing them to his rented house in old East Dallas. He filled the 2200 square feet to the ceilings in almost every room. Lamps, tables, chairs, books, appliances, clothing, desks, cookware, toys – it was unending. Small pathways wound through the house, leading to a dead end of refuse, 8 feet high. I kept him from getting evicted with his agreement to get some help – three times. Three times he was non-compliant. His family had money and he had support, though their patience had worn out over the years. Finally, I had to deny him services due to his failure to live up to past agreements. I still occasionally see him on the streets. I stop and talk to him and sometimes he has home, more often he is homeless.

The real face of homelessness, however, for most of us, is the face of a man like Ted Williams, downtrodden, holding a cardboard sign or pushing a shopping cart living in squalor just off a highway, under a bridge, behind a building, or in a homeless village in an urban forest, a park or undeveloped area. The cardboard sign asks for any help or a job, or food but often the real motive is money to buy liquor or drugs.

When I first saw the viral video of Ted Williams, I said to myself, “Wow. There is a man with a big talent and an ugly story.” When I heard him say in that first video that he had been sober two years, I had my doubts. No one “two years sober” as Ted claimed, could possible continue living in a tent by the highway, as revealed in the video. When I heard that job offers were flooding in from the Cleveland Cavaliers and Kraft, etc., I hoped for the best. Even with my experience, there was a moment, when I said to myself, oh look, it’s going to work out for this guy. It may still but certainly not like the fairy tale beginning to Ted’s saga had suggested.

Ted, had been asking for “any help”. He got way more than he bargained for. He appeared on the “Today” show and received offers from Kraft, the Cleveland Cavaliers, and others, before heading west for a round of talk shows and radio spots. I am sure there was a part of Ted that just wanted to remain a median strip carnival act, entertaining people at the stop light in exchange for a enough money to buy a little food, a lot to drink, and to be left alone. But something in Ted decided to try to go a different way. Maybe he thought it would just be some quick cash and he could return to his tent on the highway. I think, however, he saw people wondering at and appreciating his talent and he had the fire to live again. The internet video exploded and brought a flood of attention. Suddenly, millions of people cared and wanted to know his story and help. People who had driven past Ted, and all of the other Ted’s of the world a thousand times, suddenly cared. Ted cared, too. It had been a long time since he had been responsible and the low self-esteem of the addict was whispering in his hear that he did not deserve this.

A couple of days into his west coast stay, there was a loud altercation at the hotel where Ted was staying with family members. His mother, a wife and grown children - who he reunited with after his rediscovery in Columbus, have mustered the emotional energy to support Ted’s next attempt at sobriety. It may be his best and last chance. Dr. Phil is on the scene and has Ted in rehab. Ted has not had, despite his original claims, any significant period of sobriety and he has admitted as much. He apparently has a girlfriend who was arrested sometime back for drugs while Ted was riding with her in her car. Ted’s family worries he will fall back in with his old life and friends and blow this amazing opportunity. Ted may not even be his own worst enemy in this. Where there is money there is an opportunity for exploitation.

So, if we never hear of Ted Williams again, we’ll know why. The rehab just didn’t work out and Dr. Phil, the Cavaliers, Kraft, all, rightfully, dropped him like a hot potato. If that happens we’ll know where we can find him. There’s a little tent off I-71 in Columbus. Hopefully, though, this is the rare story of grace and salvation. We all want to get those chills and shed a tear from seeing a man pick himself up, when almost everyone else has given up on him, and lean on his angels to deliver him the peace in his life where he can use his beautiful talent. Godspeed, Ted Williams.

Why liberals feel trepidation (and you should, too.)

Sometime shortly after an apple came up missing in a very special garden, Democrat and Republican politicians started pointing fingers at each other. Since the original vitriol, the great unwashed, as Blackie Sherrod referred to us, have had rules of civility that included the axiom that if you have a friend and want to keep them, don’t discuss politics. Another truth of early history (at least when I was growing up in the latter half of the last century) was that only two things are certain, death and taxes. Our present politics long ago exploded the first rule and, urban myths aside, both parties have struggled mightily to produce the most entertaining tax shell game on the midway for their constituencies. That leaves only death, which hardly seems fair. But as we say in Texas, there is only one fair - and that’s the State Fair - and it only comes around once a year.

The fundamental philosophical debate about what government should be and do is a sign of the health of our democracy. There are some elemental rules: reasoned discussion, democratic process, majority rule with benevolence toward all, and the loyal opposition. But the Jerry Springer-ization of our political discourse is a result of a number of forces mostly related to money. Jon Stewart pointed to the terror wrought by the 24/7, post-9/11 news cycle. Unofficial fundraising arms of the Republican and Democratic Party whip the base into a frenzy in order to win elections, money drives the message and the message drives the money. While there are fractures in our politics gushing from politicians, the news media and in our debates in cyber-space, my neighborhood remains a place where we wave and chat and help our neighbors, despite the fact some are more conservative than others. We seem to be beginning the process of restoring respect and remembering that the phrase, “Our way, or the Highway!” does not appear in the Constitution.

While a zealous advocate for my beliefs, I have never been one to shy from listening and self-examination. I always know that no matter how much I believe something is true, I could be wrong. This week especially, but for some time previously, I have spent considerable time reflecting on how we got to this ugly place and what I can do to help bring discourse back to the point where we are focused on issue debate and not yelling, “Hell No, you won’t” or “Liar” from the floor of the Congress. There is the risk in determining to take a calm and thoughtful approach from this point forward. As Will Rogers said, “A lie can get half way around the world before the truth gets out of bed.” The road to civil discourse will not be easy for either side.

Because I am prone to healthy introspection, I woke this morning ready to indulge in the usual liberal guilt that I may have been unfair and asking questions. Are we liberals reading too much into the use of similes, metaphors and hyperbole by the conservatives and the right wing? Possibly. Have leftists been guilty of the same kinds of violent rhetoric, if not outright violence? Absolutely. So what is it we liberals are so afraid of?

We are afraid that the incorrigibles of democracy, the ones freely exercise their rights while advocating an America that it is not a Great Experiment but a Great Absolute One group known as Reconstructionists and Dominionists pose a threat to this country of tolerance, immigrants and diversity. Groups like Coral Ministries and other Mega-Churches around the country stand in the forefront of this relatively new “Christianity”. These are not mainstream conservative evangelicals, even Jerry Falwell has backed as far away as possible from these groups. In a recent piece in Mother Jones, “Does Bachmann Believe Congress should be run by Christians,” Stephanie Mencimer, exposes yet another right wing extremist hate group parading as Christians. They speak for God and God has told them that Jesus will only return when they have taken over all aspects of the government. I am not kidding, this is their doctrine. They claim to be the Vice-Regents of God, a term I don’t remember from Presbyterian Sunday school. You can pass this off as liberal hysteria but in this “church”, the leaders have been holocaust deniers, defenders of segregation and slavery, because, you know, slavery was in the bible.

Gary North, a “Christian Economist”, is a disciple of Rousas John Rushdooney, his late father in law, and is one of the leaders of Coral Ministries. He believes women who have had an abortion and all gays should be stoned to death, but of course he knows this is all against the law. However, he has a plan for that:

"We must use the doctrine of religious liberty…until we train up a generation of people who know that there is no religious neutrality, no neutral law, no neutral education, and no neutral civil government. Then they will get busy constructing a Bible-based social, political, and religious order which finally denies the religious liberty of the enemies of God."

Now, not even these guys really scare us liberals. But when far right Republicans like Michelle Bachmann or Mike Pence go courting these folks down in Florida for votes, we do start to get a little nervous. Add in the many Rushdooney church off-shoots around the country and you have a formidable group working to, “take back America”. Hmmm, seems I have heard that expression before. Was it the Tea Party? Okay, now we are scared. America has never been like them and, hopefully, never will. What they want is to take America backward to a place where intolerance is punitive and they can make people live their way, under their God. North wrote:

"The long-term goal of Christians in politics should be to gain exclusive control over the franchise… Those who refuse to submit publicly…must be denied citizenship."

Another leader in the Reconstructionist Movement, is Gary DeMar who wrote, in “American Heritage” that the goal of the movement is to create:

"…an America that recognizes the sovereignty of God over all of life, where Christians apply a Biblical worldview to every facet of society. This future America will be again a 'city on a hill' drawing all nations to the Lord Jesus Christ and teaching them to subdue the earth for the advancement of His Kingdom."

I hate founding father arguments but allow me this one. The founding fathers did not have the views of Coral Ministries and others like them in mind when the concept of one nation under God was propounded. I am done getting over-wrought about budget fights and political campaign cross-hairs. But these people who are so consumed with these ‘end times” scenarios, that they feel compelled to live outside everything that America and the Constitution and the Bill of Rights and the history of our wars stand for, namely, freedom, scare the bejeezus out of me. All of ya’ll on the right keep your eyes on Earth First, the ACLU, MSNBC and all of the limp wristed left-wing extremists that you perceive as a threat. I’m watching the Reconstructionists.

Dialing for Reasons

Before embarking on this blog entry, I want to reiterate that I believe the Arizona shooting highlights our mental health crisis, more than a political speech crisis, or a gun control crisis.

I don’t know if I am up to the full blown mental health discussion. My experience in this area as a poverty lawyer was extensive and not very successful. During that time and since, I have made a few observations that seem to have held up over the years. Since the 80’s, we have embarked down a very bi-partisan road of respecting individual rights with out-patient programs, as opposed to institutions, and then, defunding the out-patient programs, resulting in mentally ill people under bridges and pushing baskets, living in tent camps in urban parks and a safety net with huge holes. One problem is that mentally ill people rarely know they are mentally ill, or at least how mentally ill they are, and avoid treatment. In an environment where the scarce resources are not mandatory, the mentally ill are not free, they are simply uncared for. Post-Tucson, we are already hearing compelling stories and thoughtful discussion about our neglect of mental health as it affects the small percentage of people with mental health issues who are prone toward violence. If there are any silver linings, perhaps this will be one. It will be interesting to see how the upcoming Congress deals with funding for mental health.

As to gun control, I would in no way infringe on the right of sane, responsible people to own guns. I have owned guns, though not recently, hunted ducks, was a member of the Texins Rod and Gun Club where my grandfather taught me gun safety and respect, and a junior member of the NRA.

Certainly, the sane and responsible among us, would deny firearms to people who would apparently commit some heinous act. I simply ask a few questions about how we determine responsibility and sanity. A teaching credential requires education, testing and a background check. A driver’s license requires education and testing. I can, rightfully, be denied a seat on a plane if there are suspicions about me. We require seat belts, helmets, and safety regulations in dangerous workplaces and there is no doubt that far fewer have been killed or maimed. But I can be a walking, talking fruit cake and buy a gun in short order? I have seen the enormous NRA building in Washington, not far from the Capitol, and am amazed that any gun control legislation ever sees the light of day, much less passes. I can’t see a lot of good coming from any of it, but I have not heard of anyone being killed because of gun control legislation.

The consideration of political speech and the recent fever pitch of vitriol suddenly is being seriously discussed. Everyone is talking about “dialing down”. Except that today, Rush Limbaugh says that Democrats wanted this shooting to happen to save the Obama presidency. I have been as pitched in the arguments as anyone. I have been de-friended on Facebook. Close friends have, rightfully, called me out from time to time. Sometimes we think we can change minds, win arguments, or appear smart, and I have learned we can do nothing of the kind. But through considerate discourse we can respect our differences, and Senate filibuster rules notwithstanding, the majority rules. Roger Ailes, the President of Fox News has instructed his broadcasters (see? I didn’t say henchmen, or pit bulls or hired guns) to be professional and intellectual. I don’t believe him for a second and have watched more Fox in the last 24 hours than recommended by the Surgeon General, perhaps this can be the beginning of a second silver lining of the tragedy in Arizona.

As Rep. Gifford’s astronaut brother-in-law, Commander Scott Kelly said from space yesterday, “We are better than this. We must do better.” The old hymn says, “Let there Peace on Earth and let it begin with me.” Heightened verbal inappropriateness, forgetting our commonality, and loss of civility have brought us as low as we have been since 9/11. Unlike 9/11, we have lacked a common enemy. We were turning on each other. The gunman may not have been inspired by a politician or talk radio but he is a metaphor for the entire country. As Pogo said, “We have seen the enemy and he is us.” Now, we have had the galvanizing event that has caused us to remember that civility and respect allow the heart of our patriotism to be big enough to include everyone. Let there be peace in the way we talk to each other and let it begin with all of us.

Forgive My Grief

There already have been millions of words written and spoken about the shooting in Tuscon. Mostly, the words will be the same words as those used to try to explain Ft. Hood, or after the 1991 Luby’s rampage in Killeen, Texas, or, following a massacre at a McDonalds in San Diego in 1984, and after assassinations in Dallas, Memphis and Los Angeles in the 1960’s. The same words tried to put into context the shooting of President Ronald Reagan, who thankfully survived, by the son of weathy Republican parents, and of John Lennon, by a disturbed man, who had worshiped him as a Beatle. We have grasped and groped for language to understand and explain the incomprehensible. So often, we have lost track, or tried to forget, the times, places and number of dead – the 20 places of worship in the last decade or the 105 schools and colleges since 1969, from Columbine to Virginia Tech. These are just the shootings that shock our sensibilities because of the fame, or number, of the victims or their vulnerability. Having already been sufficiently numbed to the daily grind of death occurring in gang violence and domestic disputes, we save our words of penance and prayers for the end of violence, for the most overt and less common place acts. This is not to demean or trivialize the words that attempt to uplift the spirits of the bereaved or a mourning nation. They are the mantra and liturgy of our grief. They are necessary, insufficient, and heart wrenching. In their continuing repetition there is both comfort and conundrum. The words comfort us now, the conundrum promises we will be here again. Blame and more gun laws will not cure unspeakable loss. Perhaps it is valid to say that this is a cost of freedom that crazy people get to have guns. That view is hard to share as the destruction, loss and pain brought on by the freedom of the crazed, would not seem to outweigh the freedom formerly enjoyed by the deceased, the wounded or the traumatized. The answers are not so easy. Derangement takes many forms and as long as random gun violence has been an epidemic in this country, there is almost nothing about it that we understand. Not every shooter is obviously deranged. There may be no sure way to effectively screen out the mentally ill, criminally impulsive, and just plain mean people, from owning a gun. All we are left with is our freedom (such as it is when it appears that we are required to own a gun to protect our freedoms, even if we don't want a gun) and countless words of sorrow. The national moment of silence just led by the President and First Lady, and shared by millions of Americans, was solemn and poignant, a moment to think and pray without the necessity of words. As Rep. Gabrielle Gifford’s brother in law, astronaut Scott Kelly, said succinctly from space this morning, “We are better than this.”

Carmen - not the opera.

I don’t really know anything about Carmen Electra. Oh, I remembered there was a connection to Prince, that she was married to Dennis Rodman without getting all tatted up, and she sort of lurks in the C level of the entertainment world, nothing too specific. If you had shown me a picture of her and asked who it was, I might as well have answered, “Apollonia Kotero”? But, there is something about that name, Carmen Electra, that you just don’t forget. So I was pleased to see her recently, turning up in a barrage of ads from Lectric Shave which are the hottest things since the Aqua Velva and Noxema ads of the 60’s and 70’s. However, Carmen’s persuasive powers being what they are, I am inclined to comply with her desire that I begin using an electric razor and Lectric Shave.

I had assumed she merely had my shaving interests at heart. The fact she is a well-maintained, somewhat sophisticated entertainment mogul, not to mention a snappy dresser, is all the more reason that she be taken seriously. We snobs who require quality in our art may not find Carmen’s work particularly compelling, but commercials are completely different for me. Commercials are these Freudian moments when we reveal things about our culture that we normally don’t like to discuss. Carmen stroking a man’s cheek simply because he has shaved reveals the suppressed male desire that women not expect too much from us. I love that it’s kind of a throwback ad summoning a day gone by when a smooth shave was cause for a bump and grind song and dance.

You may have scoffed when I called her a mogul. Did you know that Carmen has been in at least 37 movies? Five of those - making sure not to assume too much about the audience’s intelligence - end in the word “Movie”? To be sure, there were some bombs along the way but who could forget her work in: “Oy Vey! My Son is Gay!!” or, the 1999 epic, “Mating Habits of the Earthbound Human.” She produced an exercise video series called “Carmen Electra Aerobic Striptease.” In 2005, proving her business acumen, she was named commissioner of the Naked Women’s Wrestling League and made commercials for Taco Bell. People who would call her “easy” for her four appearances in Playboy, don’t understand that we buy it for the articles.

I really miss the class and dignity of a Sophia Loren or Raquel Welch and I guess girls like Carmen are the modern version of those icons. Just because someone is sexy does not mean we have to start ripping their clothes off, which if you have seen Carmen’s wardrobe, that’s exactly what it looks like. It is hard to imagine someone who appears to have been less concerned with her career choices and, yet, has survived and flourished. This should give hope to the Lindsey Lohan’s and Paris Hilton’s of the world. Carmen Electra becoming the Lectric Shave girl is a testament to the axiom, “In America anything is possible and, unfortunately, probable.”

Cowboy Mecca

Much of what we call the Metro-Pasture here in North Texas, lies basically in the Trinity River basin. It may be a flood prone delta but it’s our flood prone delta. It is a flat to slightly rolling terrain where the rain soaks the thick black gumbo clay soil and drains toward the rivulets and gullies that form the creeks and streams that empty into the forks of the Trinity River. The Trinity is a modest, muddy tributary, which then fills and floods any place that is not built on relatively high ground or fortified by levies. It is not a place prone to grand vistas.

However, there is the occasional chalk escarpment buckling from the post oak savannah and grassland prairie, which produces the highest point in Dallas County at 841 feet above sea level. One of these runs north and south along the western edge of the county and through places known as Cockrell Hill and Cedar Hill. Driving west along the Tom Landry Highway out of Dallas, I-30 crests this geological bump and offers the closest thing to a “view” as one living in these parts can imagine.

There, 9.3 miles to the west something totally new - disc like and enormous - protrudes from the otherwise flat line of the horizon. It catches the eye and conjures images of a giant observatory or the Death Star itself – crashed into the earth and half buried, something from the next century or the one after. By the time you reach the bottom of the lonely hill, the landscape has swallowed the semi-sphere and for the next 8.5 miles, the uninitiated driver wonders, “What the hell was that?” and, moreover, “Where the hell did it go?”

There on a landscape that only a civil engineer could love and make habitable, the first American Mecca of the new century has been erected. Architecturally, culturally, and in the history of sports, Cowboy Stadium, in form and function, succeeds far beyond the limits of the moniker, “football stadium”. Calling it a football stadium is akin to calling a stealth bomber an airplane or Raquel Welch, a girl. Welcome to “Jerry World”: the building that is as audacious as the seed, sower and seller of the idea, Dallas Cowboy owner, Mr. Jerral Wayne “Jerry” Jones.

What the Burj Khalifi is to the Dubai skyline, Cowboy Stadium is to football, perhaps America. It’s going to be a visible player whether you want it to be or not. It rises from the sedate suburban sprawl of Arlington, Texas, between Dallas and Ft. Worth and dwarfs next door neighbor, the 50,000 seat stadium, Rangers Ballpark in Arlington, a place locally known as The Temple. Although I am a fan, my general feeling about the business side of sport, is to just ignore it. It ruins the fun. At some point, football fan or not, you are likely to find yourself lost in Jerry’s realm, in a pilgrimage to the largest domed sports stadium in the world. Covering 3 million square feet, or 73 acres, it is anchored by two giant arches that rise to 292 feet in height and are a quarter of a mile in length. The reason you may find yourself there even if you never attend a sporting event is that the darned thing cost $1.6 billion. Jerry’s got a mortgage.

My first encounter with the futuristic works of the new urban auditorium was to see U2. I think it was U2. It could have been Kenny and the Casuals. We were so far away, I’m not sure. Though I was disappointed in my first encounter – they didn’t even turn the big screen on – I didn’t fail to appreciate the gravitas of the structure.

One can imagine the big house hosting cross-sections of humanity previously unimagined: the first simultaneously held Republican and Democratic Convention; or the world’s largest gathering of trans-gendered evangelicals. Moto-Cross and Tractor-Pulls can’t be far behind. Whatever happens at Cowboy Stadium, or whatever the name is once the naming rights are sold to a suitably high profile partner, one can rest assured it will be the biggest, the largest, or the most puffed-up ego-maniacally motivated event ever held, just like it’s owner.

It is hard to think of another character whose actual importance on the American cultural landscape is matched only by his own self-importance. Like a cross between Elvis, Walt Disney, and P.T Barnum, Jerry is as enigmatic as he is successful. Jerry has had a facelift and his net worth is listed at $2B. At one point he was voted least popular sports personality by Sports Illustrated. Jerry has played himself on television shows, like Entourage and Dallas: War of the Ewings and in commercials for Papa John’s and Pepsi.

Underestimating the vision and utter gall of the chief proponent of All Things Cowboy, has proven folly for many of us. Almost a quarter of a century ago, I was not alone in thinking of Jerry as some hick from Arkansas, a guy who got lucky in the oil “bid-ness” and then got lucky again buying America’s team from a distressed seller for $140 million, now worth $1.6 billion. He instantly became a walking firestorm when he named himself general manager, a position formerly held by the legend, Tex Schramm and then fired the Sainted, Tom Landry. Jerry and new Coach Jimmy Johnson built a team quickly and the “luck” continued when the Cowboys won two Super Bowls in a row, 92 and 93. Jerry fired Johnson after 93 but the Cowboys went on to win one more in 95 under his Barney Fife Coach, Barry Switzer. Only a fool believes in that much luck. Only a bigger fool denies there is no luck involved at all.

The only person to over-estimate Jerry was Jerry himself. It is widely assumed, and Jones has admitted to a certain extent, that he drove Johnson away with his “whiskey talking” that any of 500 coaches could have won the Super Bowl with the talent that he had assembled. Jerry had made a trade with some crazy people in Minnesota for Herschel Walker. The Cowboys got 5 players and 8 draft choices. It was easy for Jerry to see himself as a genius as he used the plethora of picks to build the teams talent pool for Johnson. Once Johnson was fired, the wheels started falling off and we have been searching the roadside for them ever since.

As an owner in the NFL, Jones has done as much to market the league as a brand as well as his own team as anyone. The Cowboys gross over a quarter of a billion dollars each year just in merchandise. Jones is powerful - serving on NFL committees, involved in NFL charities, and a player in collective bargaining. While there is plenty of room to argue that while he has far more football experience than almost all NFL owners, his record as General Manager has been more like a broken theme park ride with people hanging upside down for hours than it has been a thrilling roller coaster ride. But nothing Jerry has done so far in the NFL, not even the three long-ago Super Bowls that he is so fond of mentioning anytime someone suggests he hire a “football man”, compares to conceiving and building Cowboy Stadium.

Not long after buying the team in 1989, Jerry began to dream of a place grander and more ostentatious than anything the National Football League had ever seen before. The statistics are somewhat dry, yet, overwhelming when you think about it. The total cost of the building stands somewhere near $1.5 billion, mostly financed and built during difficult economic times. To walk all of the way around the perimeter of the building is well over a mile. The Stadium seats 80,000 people, with an additional 30,000 more available for standing room only and high-dollar suites. As you walk the carpeted hallway that arcs around the field level suites, the walls are adorned by 4’ x 4’ enlarged photos from the Cowboy photo archives. Each level of the three million square feet facility is a tribute to the franchise, the entire building a museum to 50 years of one of the most successful sports franchises of all time. The Jerry-Mahal, the Boss Hog Bowl -- whatever you call it -- the hand of the owner is everywhere. Of all of the crazy stats, one that illustrates the size of the venue and the depth of Jerry’s will to make it pay, is the standing room only seats, many whose only view of the game is on big screen televisions that are scattered around the stadium like trash cans. These SRO tickets and the food and merchandise revenue that they produce top $3 million dollars for most events.

Now, the Super Bowl juggernaut is about to sweep through North Texas. In one month, Jerry will play host to a 120,000 NFL elites, media and a few fans in what is still the single biggest annual circus worldwide. One of the biggest stars of this Super Bowl will be Jerry World. They won’t be able to stop talking about it and Jerry will be wistfully grinning throughout the entire two weeks.

Wistful because for all his dreaming and scheming and macro-thinking and micro-managing, what Jerry wanted, Jerry didn’t get. His beloved Cowboys are not playing. Jerry’s plan was not just to host the Super Bowl but to have the home team in the Super Bowl. For all of the success of Jerry the owner, Jerry the General Manager has failed miserably to put a consistent competitive product on the field since the end of the Super Bowl runs in the early 90’s. Money and people will be pouring into the area for a massive party but the heart is gone from the event. North Texas football fans after seeing their team stumble out of contention early in the season seem lock-jawed into a January yawn. But for an event like the Super Bowl, the common folk don’t matter anyway. We never had a chance to get tickets. We’ll just sit at home and watch the well heeled football fans gawk at the spectacle of Jerry’s World.