Happy Black Friday, folks.

I’m at Dallas Fort Worth International Airport, staying at a four-star Hyatt Regency Hotel that I booked online for $50 a night.

(God bless Priceline.com)

I’ve been in the greater Dallas area since Thanksgiving Eve working on a story about the Salvation Army-Dallas Cowboys partnership.

The nut graph of the story is this: Since 1997, the Cowboys have used their half-time show to promote the Salvation Army during their nationally-televised game, giving the charity tens of millions of dollars worth of free national publicity.

The national Red Kettle Kickoff features A-list performers and plenty of razzle dazzle — Cowboy cheerleaders pom poms and a pile of pyrotechnics.

This year, country music star Keith Urban performed.

Jerry Jones, the team’s owner, puts his heart and soul into promoting the Salvation Army, and red Army kettles are stationed at pretty much every stadium entrance.

In 2008, the last year at the old Texas Stadium in Irving, the kettles brought in $14,500. In 2009, the first year at Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, the bell ringers collected $20,500.

No word, yet, on how much was raised on Thanksgiving Day 2010, but I’ll pass along the totals if I get them.

Before the game, Jones eats Thanksgiving dinner with the Salvationists, then invites them to watch the game from the owner’s suite. On Thanksgiving 2010, Mr. Jones and his gracious daughter, team executive vice president Charlotte Anderson, invited me to be their luncheon guest as well.

And what a Thanksgiving it was.

Jerry Jones and I have at least a couple of things in common, I learned during our interview. He is the descendant of Arkansans who were forced by the Great Depression to leave the state and head for California. So am I.

And, like Mr. Jones, I consider it a blessing that I was able to eventually move back to Arkansas.

A California appeals court has just handed a resounding victory to conservative Anglicans who broke away from the Episcopal Church USA.

Essentially, the court overturned a lower court ruling that the new liberal cleric (not the old conservative one) is the true leader of Anglicanism in central California.

The opinion does not guarantee victory for conservatives, but it puts them back in the ballgame.

It guarantees that “neutral principles of (secular property, trust and corporate) law” will decide their fate — not canon law or church law.

Who will ultimately end up on top? We’ll know the answer to that after a few years and a few million dollars worth of litigation, I imagine. That’s why the ruling is a stirring, ain’t-America-great, kind of day for the lawyers.

I’m off to learn about Billy James Hargis, a red-baiting crusader who made waves in the 1950s, 60s and 70s.

Hargis, who was hated by the Communists and investigated by the FBI, died years ago, but his papers were preserved by the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville.

When I’m done, I’ll be able to tell you why federal agents were digging into his background. It may simply be that some anonymous jokester sent an anonymous tip to the FBI, alleging that Hargis was part of a Grand Communist Conspiracy, and the FBI fell for it.

More soon.

Frank

The first openly-gay man to be elected a bishop in the Episcopal Church just announced that he plans to retire in 2013, at age 65.

The text of his retirement announcement is listed, in full, below.

First, I’d like add a few comments myself. I spent time with Bishop Robinson less than a month ago — something I should have shared with you before now. He was speaking at a gay-friendly church in Sherwood, Arkansas, a suburb of Little Rock.

It wasn’t an Episcopal Church, by the way. (more…)

I just found out that former NBA All Star Maurice Lucas died over the weekend. He was 58 years old.

Way back in 1977, he and Bill Walton led the Portland Trailblazers to the Promised Land, an NBA world championship. They were my basketball heroes. They still are.

I was mighty unhappy when the Blazers traded Lucas — the Enforcer — to the New Jersey Nets in the winter of the 1979-80 season. So I sent a letter to New Jersey, addressed to the 6’9″ inch forward. I was a seventh grader, 13 years old and I thought I knew a thing or two about hoops.

I told Mr. Lucas that the folks in Portland who had traded him were darned fools. That they’d lost their senses. That nobody, nowhere, no time, no how would ever be able to fill his basketball sneakers. And I thanked him, I think, for all of the joy he had brought to the City of Roses and the State of Oregon. Along with my lamentation, I included one of Lucas’ basketball cards and asked him to autograph it for me. And a couple of weeks later, an envelope arrived in my mailbox from New Jersey. He’d signed my card. And, for good measure, he’d jotted me a note on New Jersey Nets stationary.

I still have that card — and an autographed Bill Walton basketball card, as well (but that’s another story.)

Portland 109, Philadelphia 107.
June 5, 1977.

Rest in peace, Mr. Lucas.
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I got this note from a fellow blogger and thought I’d pass it along. If you get a chance, please check out his blog at www.themcj.com:

I have some Maurice Lucas memories of my own. He started out his professional career here in town with the ABA Spirits of St. Louis. Even as a rookie, he was the hardest worker and the best player on that circus of a team and pretty much the whole reason we went to the playoffs. Lucas put that team on his back, as they say. When they let him go in favor of the flighty and ridiculous Marvin Barnes, I knew the Spirits were doomed.

Best,

Chris

Christopher S. Johnson
Midwest Conservative Journal
Webster Groves, Missouri

http://themcj.com

http://badvestments.blogspot.com