Category Archives: Fred Glass

Hot Air

Sports U.

The highest paid Indiana University employee, acc’d’g to the an op-ed in today’s Herald Times (paywall), is basketball coach Tom Crean, who rakes in a cool $604,858 per year. Sitting just below him and IU Pres. Michael McRobbie ($566,860) in the pay firmament is football head coach Kevin Wilson, who pockets $531,644 per annum.

And just to make sure the jock pop. of our local institution of higher education gets its just deserts, athletic director Fred Glass boasts a &458,007 salary. Poor guy doesn’t even make a half mill a year; how does he make ends meet?


Tom Crean Accepting His Weekly Bushel Of Money

Let’s not kid ourselves anymore: Indiana University, like many, many other U.’s around the nation, is really a sports entertainment concern that just happens to dabble in things like education and scientific inquiry on the side.

Funny thing is, just yesterday I had a sit-down with a pal o’mine who happens to be a research scientist at IU. Let’s call him Dr. Brain. Every year Dr. Brain must search for funding for his lab (as well as his relatively paltry salary) from granting agencies around the country. He must fill out reams of applications, justifying not only his scientific work but also his very existence as a learned member of society. Then he must lay awake nights wondering if this foundation or that federal government department will fork over a few thousand bucks. To keep his lab running and to ensure he makes enough to support his modest home and his 16-year-old car, Dr. Brain must cobble together any number of gifts from donors every single year.

Dr. Brain was overjoyed yesterday because his funding for the coming year seems in the bag. Note I typed seems. He hasn’t gotten final confirmation for his package of grants just yet. Everything, though, seems in order, he says.

Hmm. If there’s a problem, I wonder if Dr. Brain might be able to request grants from the likes of Tom Crean and Kevin Wilson.

Books On The Brae

Col. John Tilford, former Dem primary candidate for US Congress and tireless advocate for veterans’ concerns, dashed off to Scotland with his lovely missus, Polly, not long ago. Natch, he found one of the few bookstores in a sparsely populated stretch of the northern highlands. He was eager to tell me about it when he visited the Book Corner last week.

The Scot store, he sez, was a two-story affair, the main floor ringed by a balcony-like structure. Nearly every square inch of the place is crammed with tomes and smack dab in the middle of the main floor is an old fashioned wood-burning stove. That, acc’d’g to the Col., is the facility’s heating plant.

I don’t suppose that store will be making the switch to selling e-books and Kindles very soon.

In any case, Tilford sent me a pic of the store:


I imagine Tilford’s been wringing his hands of late over the VA hospital scandals and the unwillingness of certain obsessive ledger book-watching legislators to pay for veterans’ care. Far too many of us are perfectly happy to let somebody else’s kid get his brains blown out for the cause of “freedom” (something I’d argue this holy land hasn’t actually fought for since July 27, 1953). Nor are terribly many of us willing to pay for the psychological and physical care of people we’ve shipped off to all corners of the world to wage war for our interests.

Keep up the good fight for the veterans, Colonel!


Hot Air

In Utero

The National Right to Life Convention is happening as we speak a mere 90 miles away in Louisville this weekend.

Abortion, says Kentucky Right to Life Ass’n president Margie Montgomery, “is the leading moral issue in our world.” A 19-year-old volunteer added, “It’s the most important civil rights issue of our time.”


Christian radio host Joy Pinto chipped in: “I have the privilege on a daily basis — being the director of a pregnancy medical center — to see the wreckage of humanity that walks in my door, because they have bit the apple, they have believed the lie that this government, that all of the politics, that even some churches tell them. That it’s okay to go use contraception, it’s okay to use abortion as a backup birth control.”

And these are quotes only from the first day of the bash.

Sweat Equity

Have you noticed that the Indiana University Athletic Dept. has issued a student-athlete bill of rights?

The Herald Times this morning carries news of the announcement, made yesterday by Athletic Director Fred Glass’s PR people. Glass, acc’d’g to the flacks, was aghast that parents of potential Hoosier jocks didn’t know how spectacularly wonderfully their snowflakes would be treated once they committed to the IU plantation.

IU Athletics Bill of Rights

Free At Last, Free At Last….

Certainly better, I would imagine, than some dumb schlubs who choose to attend our institution of higher knowledge to concentrate on less glamorous pursuits like playing the oboe or learning how the brain works.

Nowhere, though, does this latest B. of R. mention cold, hard cash. As in paying the football and basketball serfs whom the local populace pays through the nose to watch, in season. Which is the crux of all the folderol over the NCAA’s system of squeezing entertainment dollars out of teenagers who can dunk a basketball or transform a running back’s knee sinew into a plate of spaghetti.

Here’s a pdf of IU’s putative emancipation document.

Don’t Mess With Fútbol

Isn’t it funny? Ann Coulter has been saying hateful, alarmist, untrue, royalist things for years now, so much so that nobody really pays attention to her anymore.

For instance, after the meltdown of that Japanese nuclear reactor in the wake of that 2011 tsunami, she bleated, “There is a growing body of evidence that radiation in excess of what the government says are the minimum amounts we should be exposed to are actually good for you and reduce cases of cancer.” A statement, BTW, that’s endorsed and/or corroborated by exactly zero reputable scientists on this or any other planet. No matter; because it was uttered by this holy land’s most prominent harpy loon, it didn’t make headlines.

The poor thing; she must feel so neglected.

Not any more, though. Ann Coulter is nothing if not clever. She’ll find a button to push and these days the most pushable buttons are being worn by soccer fans. So, even though Coulter has never stopped disparaging and slurring homosexuals, liberals, social workers, community organizers, Democrats, brown people, black people — really, anybody who is not fabulously fortunate enough to be Ann Coulter — all her verbal retching of late has raised nary a peep. But when she slanders soccer, well, dammit, that’s going too far!

To wit:

 Coulter Head

From Awful Announcing

Comment Screen Shot

(above and below) Typical Online Comments

Comment Screen Shot


I’ve learned a few things running this communications colossus. One, don’t challenge anybody’s belief that eating a certain food — or, conversely, not eating something — will cure them of everything up to and including dandruff and make their lives heaven on Earth unless you want to be pilloried from here to eternity. Two, if you criticize any of the current crop of cable evening dramas — Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Orange Is the New Black, etc. — or you openly wonder why people are wasting their time watching television, be prepared to be attacked with all the ferocity of a grizzly bear mom protecting her cubs. Three, should you ever let slip even the slightest criticism of teachers or the teaching profession, you will be forthwith excommunicated from the civilized world. And, finally, do not slam soccer, or else soccer-istas will make you wish you’d never been born.

The takeaway? The most thin-skinned humans alive are foodies, “prestige” TV drama lovers, teachers, and soccer fans.


Eat This, Not That

And people wonder why diets don’t work:

From Candyboots

From Candyboots

From Candyboots

From Candyboots

These are vintage Weight Watchers recipe cards, as collected by Wendy McClure who runs Candyboots. Yes, Weight Watchers was the way to lose those excess libra pondos back in the glitter ball ’70s. And shedding the poundage was simple: just eat WW’s recommended dishes.

That is, if you could get them down without gagging.

Check out more such savory lab experiments on McClure’s Weight Watcher’s Recipe Cards from 1974 page.

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