Tag: Retired

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Why Modern Radio is A-OK

I suppose this is, to paraphrase the immortal Harry Doyle juuuust a bit behind. I wrote a couple months ago that I would be taping a segment to be played on a local radio station at a later date. Well, that date came and went. It aired on July 1st, something I didn’t find out until a couple weeks later, but regardless, it happened. I had thought it might be nice to put up a post with a link to the radio station in case anyone wanted to listen as it aired, sigh, and with that now an impossibility, I’m left with a couple options for those interested. As it turned out, B2 videoed my bit the night it was recorded, so I could put that up. Or, I could send you to the page on the website of the production company that recorded, edited, and got it radio-ready. As I type these words I haven’t decided which way I’ll go, so I guess we’ll find out together.

There are some differences between the two; despite my best efforts, my stories (well one of them anyway) weren’t “radio friendly” since it got lopped off completely. Kind of a shame too, that one got a great response from the crowd that night. But I guess I get it. Apparently you can’t say genitalia on the radio in the Bible Belt. Maybe anywhere else idk. I mean, I know George Carlin’s famous bit about the seven words you can’t say on the air (it’s a classic btw and if you’re unfamiliar I suggest you GTS) but genitalia wasn’t on his list so… Another difference is that, since the production company, you know, produces things, their version sounds a lot cleaner than the one B2 recorded. By that I mean it sounds like it was professionally recorded whereas our version sounds like it was recorded on somebody’s cellphone, which, oddly enough, is exactly how it was recorded.

So, you know, pros and cons for each. I suppose as far as that goes I could link to each of them and leave it up to you, gentle reader, to decide which one you prefer. Let me ponder all this for a bit as I meander across the keyboard.

The experience of doing the radio show was pretty excellent, I must say. But I already did kind of a recap of the evening, so I’ll just leave it at that and move along. Funny thing about that too. I was a couple hundred words farther along than I am here when I started to realize how familiar the things I was typing sounded. I scrolled through my last couple posts and there it was, this post covering the evening from the perspective of the next morning. *eyeroll* *facepalm* #reallygladicaughtthatbeforeitposted

Moving right along…

I’m not sure why I came to today’s musical selection but I’m listening to the Drive By Truckers this morning. In particular the Friday night show from 2019’s HeAthens Homecoming, a show which I happened to attend. They just came through our area recently, but we were unable to make the show. I can’t wait for them to come back around, they are firmly on the medal stand of my favorite bands, and just incredible live. Speaking of live music, I felt like I needed to name this with another radio-centric title and as I thought about which song to choose, this one popped into my head. It’s a long time fav of mine and I haven’t listened to it in a while. Apologies in advance if the ads get in the way.

I guess I’ve put off the inevitable long enough. Here’s the link to the video B2 shot and it’s age restricted due to subject matter, which is maybe why it got axed off the air, lol. This link will take you to the professionally recorded version that aired locally on July 1st. So check them out if/when you get the chance, and, as always, I appreciate any and all comments. Even those from you, Ray.

Peace

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Bugs, etm

So, I’ve been intermittently thinking of a place to use the above “new” abbreviation for a little bit now and I decided this was as good a way to do it as any. I stumbled across it a few weeks ago on social media (one of the few things it’s still good for is finding things that make me laugh) and my first thought was “well, this is probably not a real thing.” because,you know, internet. Followed quickly by “I don’t care, I love it and I’m going to incorporate it into something as often as I can.” which brings me back to this. According to the post; etm is a Latin abbreviation, similar to etc, et al, and the like. It is an abbreviation of et merda which, the internet tells me to believe, means “and shit” as, for example, etc which is the abbreviation of et cetera, translates to “and so forth” and now that I have expanded all of your vocabularies by a little bit I feel like I can move on. I’m nothing if not helpful, right?

To the title, well I’ve been slacking lately on my “WTF is that?!?!” posts. Mainly because the bug life I’ve encountered, while varied, and often new to me, has rarely been alarming. It took me a little longer than I expected to find this particular post due to it being almost four years ago, as well as me stopping to peruse a few old posts because, why not, but I wanted that post in particular because it was one that I knew featured an excellent example of “WTF IS THAT?!?!”

If you haven’t figured out yet that all of that is leading to this, well, I guess you’re new here. But, also, it’s leading to this because the other day I experienced a new and semi frightening example of WTFIT.

There were a couple reasons my foot is as close as it is to that bug… A.) I wanted something in the frame so you could more easily visualize the size of this behemoth bug. I assure you, that picture is not comparable to, say, a typical fishing trip photo. My foot is about four inches away from the bug. I swear to god that damn thing was at least the size of a golf ball. B.) It was dead.

At least I thought it was dead. As I debated where to kick the corpse, the bug’s legs started churning like a colonial era butter maker. I won’t say I’m afraid of bugs, but we have an understanding; stay out of my personal space and I’ll likely let you go about your ugly business. Mostly. In this particular case, I grabbed a brick and dropped it on the bug from a height of about two feet. This seemed to accomplish what I was going for here, namely killing the bug without leaving a huge buggy mess to clean up. I kicked the bug out into the street, about three kicks on what I guessed to be a par 4 down my driveway and put the brick back in the neighbor’s yard where it belonged. I took one last look at the bug and, much to my surprise, it was still moving, efforting desperately in an attempt to right itself. And probably to hunt down the SOB that dropped a brick on it for all I know. A short time later B2 got home from work, and as I watched her back into the driveway, I saw she rolled over the beast. Taking another status check on the monster I must admit I wasn’t totally surprised to see that, while it wasn’t moving, it also didn’t exactly look any worse for the experience. It wasn’t until about an hour later, when I took one last look, that I could tell some passing vehicle had sufficiently flattened it out of existence. Finally satisfied Bug-hemoth (get it? Behemoth/Bug-hemoth?) had gone to its final destination, I went back about my business.

As long as we’re on this topic, here’s another odd bug I don’t ever remember seeing before. Our carport gets a lot of use as an outdoor sitting area. Since I’ve lived there I’ve enjoyed sitting there, for no real reason other than it’s typically protected from the weather. The exception to that rule is in the warmer months of the year when the afternoon/early evening sun beats down mercilessly on our sitting area. When that happens, we move to a little patio just off the carport that is pretty well shaded.

Excuse the morning light/shadows, I’m never going to be confused with PhojoMamaTM as a photographer, but this should at least give you an idea of our little sanctuary. Sitting out there one afternoon, as B2 and I chatted about our day, I noticed what appeared to be a piece of lint on a leaf of one of the potted plants pictured above. When I realized it was moving purposefully across said leaf, I knew it wasn’t lint. I’m pretty perceptive that way apparently. A quick GTS led us to believe it was some kind of mealybug and again I’d like to point out to you that this is a direct violation of bugs staying away from my shit. They are supposedly harmless to people, but they’ve been consuming my plants like, well, me when confronted with a pastry cart filled with lovely baked goods. And I can’t have that. Either, really. The pastry cart and these fluffy little bastards are both on a parallel track with the destination leaving me shaking my head and muttering obscenities. I asked someone at the local nursery what I could do to rid my plants of these pests and she advised me the best way was to take a cotton ball and wipe the leaves down with rubbing alcohol. Look at the picture again. If you think I’ve got the patience to wipe each #@%**$# leaf with rubbing alcohol, well, you’ve apparently never met me before. That ain’t happening. So, instead, I chose what some may see as sadistic (I however refuse to accept sadism as remotely applicable where bugs are involved. Have you even seen Men In Black?) but I have found to be quite effective in removing these pests. A lighter. The extended version typically used to light candles, etc. The bugs are quickly and efficiently immolated with minimal scarring to the leaves of my plants.

Win/win for me. The bugs? Not so much.

I’ll put a bow on this one by noting Manchester Orchestra is bouncing between my ears today. Man I love that band. Whenever I mention MO, I always feel like I should give a hat tip to my friend Tom for pointing me in their direction. What a great call Tom, thanks again and always. I would certainly place them on the medal stand of my current favorites, along with Drive By Truckers and John Moreland. Additionally, all three bands have got new, or at least newish albums out and all three are stellar. I can’t recommend enough that you catch any of these acts should they be touring in your general area. Not sure if I wrote this bit up or not so I apologize if I’m being redundant, but B2 and I caught a John Moreland show this past spring in Saxapahaw and actually ran into him outside the venue chilling out before the show. We talked for maybe twenty minutes. Just an absolutely lovely human being to chat with. Also one of the best songwriters around.

Peace

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Back To Back, Baby!

That’s right, two days in a row! Don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence btw. But I figured, given yesterday’s post, the least I could do was to pop out an update of some sort.

Last night was a lot of fun for me and I feel comfortable saying it was for everyone involved too. A very supportive crowd of around 50 people, seven local performers/artists/me and I’ll sum it up briefly by saying there are some ridiculously talented people living in this area.

Right off the bat, first performer, Jack, sang three original tunes and accompanied himself on piano. Next up was a local writer, Barbara, who told the story of her car crash from a few years back. That brought up Marquez, again singing and playing the piano on an original piece as well as a cover of “Times They Are A Changin'”. Another writer, Luke, came up and read a bit of crime fiction that was so vivid and descriptive, man he nailed it. After that came two of my favorite people from out here, Luke and Rosemary. B2 works with Luke, so I’ve known him for a little bit and I knew he and Rosemary were musical. We have, from time to time watched their toddler so they could practice, or record, or mix, or whatever they needed to do for an EP they’ve got coming out soon. Anyway, GOOD GOD THEY KILLED IT! Beautiful voices, excellent harmonies, and outstanding picking on two original pieces. Man, I get chills just thinking about how good they were. This brought me to the microphone and, truly, I was pleased with the way it went. I got some laughs, a couple “Awww’s” and I think I even heard a gasp in there at one point. So, all things considered, I couldn’t have asked for a better reception. Rounding out the evening was Lalenja who sang songs from Tuck and Patti, Billie Holiday, and Bessie Smith all a cappella and each one outstanding.

One of the things Jeremy, the Artistic Director/Emcee/Talent Wrangler/prettymuchanythingelseneeded mentioned is that these pieces will be streamed. I looked up the radio station website and there was nothing there about streaming, so I’m not sure how or where it’ll happen, but once I find out the details for that, I’ll pass them on here.

In summary, last night was a total gas. As both an audience member and as a speaker. I really hope this type of thing can become a regular or at least semi-regular part of the community.

Final thing; trying to choose videos for yesterday’s post put me on a definite R.E.M. kick so I’ve had Automatic For The People echoing between my ears (at a reasonable decibel level) (kinda) whilst putting this together. Great album from an excellent band.

Peace

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Radio Sweetheart

This is not only a wonderful song by the equally wonderful Elvis Costello (as they used to say on XRT “if your Elvis is dead, try ours”) it’s also an appropriate title for today. I’ll be reading a couple brief excerpts from my scrawlings this evening in front of a small (50 or so people) group at a taping for a segment on one of the local country music stations.

That might sound like a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, I think it’s pretty cool I was asked and all, but the reality is they’re taping eight 15 minute segments and will air four. So, to me, the chances of my stuff getting any air time tilt toward remote. Not saying I’m not pleased with what I chose for this evening, I went back and forth countless times until I found the right combination of drama and humor while making sure it was “safe” for the radio. In my mind I accomplished that. It was no easy task either, going back through trying to find something with no profanity for instance. Or at least a small enough amount that I could edit it out and not lose context completely. I’m just saying I don’t know how realistic actually getting air time will be.

You may be asking “Geez, how did this come to be? You getting your stuff on the radio? Why you of all people? Have they never read any of your writing?” These are all valid, if possibly harsh, questions. Allow me to give you some background.

A couple months ago I got a text from B2 asking if I would be interested in sharing some of my writing on a radio show taping June 8th. You might say I was intrigued. Go ahead, say it, I was intrigued. So the deal is this. The local theatrical production company is aiming at putting on a regular or semi-regular radio drama. They needed to find a way to work out any kinks in the system prior to attempting that type of undertaking and thought a Prairie Home Companion esque radio show might accomplish that goal. The first taping was last month at the local microbrewery and B2 and I went to see what it was all about. Let me tell you, it was all about a lot of fun. Local musicians, storytellers, and authors got 15 minutes each to do their thing in front of an audience. After the show, the audio was taken back to the studio for editing, cutting the performances into radio friendly time bits. The show that was taped last month airs this month, every Monday at 6:15 PM local time. Of course I forgot to tune in to the first segment to check that out, but that’s what I mean when I say my bits might not even see the airwaves. As far as the artists taped tonight, they’ll air next month.

I’ll keep you all in the loop if and when it airs, although tbh, I’m not even sure if the station has any kind of streaming ability. I’d like to make a crack about how they play both kinds of music (s/o to Jake and Elwood) but I have never tuned in to them, so I should probably keep the snark to a minimum. Kinder, gentler me in action right there.

I knew I wanted to throw in a link to a video related to radio, I never stopped to think how many there were to choose from. Holy crap. REM has a couple, including the aptly named Radio Song but I liked the Costello title better. Side note; damn, REM had some great music videos. Second side note; damn, I wish I had seen them live at some point. Maybe just prior to the height of their powers, while they were still playing smaller venues. Must have been pretty wild. I thought about The Buggles happy little pop hit, made famous by MTV or Queen’s song Radio Gaga but again, probably a misleading title. I’m not actively looking for any more radio-related videos/songs, but if anyone would like to fire off a suggestion for the followup post when and if my stuff airs, well feel free to launch them at me.

Lastly, in addition to the aforementioned videos bouncing between my ears, I’ve also been listening to a playlist I put together a while ago and add to on occasion, called Speeding Ticket. Various songs from Nirvana, Tom Petty, blink-182, The Clash, DBT, among others over the last 40 minutes or so, and it’s been thoroughly delightful. I think I’m going to pack this up now though. I’ve got to go bring out my stuff for tonight (yup, going old school) and read through it a handful of times in an attempt at not looking like a boob tonight. Fingers crossed…

Peace

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Confessions of a Budding Fat Guy

One of the things I have learned, probably too late in life, but I’ve learned it nevertheless, is how pervasive body-shaming is and how wrong it is. Self reflection also taught me how often I was guilty of it in the past. I made a conscious effort a few years back to stop doing it, and it wasn’t as difficult as I feared it would be. I mean, really, it’s more about being a decent human being than anything, right? That shouldn’t be too hard for any of us.

I wrote that as a segue to this – the title is absolutely, totally, unequivocally, this guy. And, fwiw, I have no problem body shaming myself when necessary. If you know me IRL, maybe even only if you know me from here, you probably know I have an affinity for baked goods. Sweets, in general really, but more specifically pastries and the like. Ice cream has been a big part of my life for a long time too. I can’t help it, I just love the stuff. In the past I’ve always gotten away with eating those types of things with no regard for weight gain due to my metabolism and/or genetics I guess. I’ve been accused, on more than one occasion and by more than one person, that I have the dietary habits of a garbage truck.

Guilty as charged.

But, as I said, in the past it never really affected me. I was able to stay around 195 pounds pretty consistently for a pretty long time. And the time or two where my weight did jump up over 200 pounds I was able to cut back on careless eating habits and get things back under control fairly easily.

Those days are, apparently, behind me. Along with a rather ample rear end. In front of me however, is the prospect of moonlighting as one of Santa’s department store helpers. And I wish I was joking about that. B2 got one of those high techy scales from her parents (her request) for Christmas. I should specify that she wanted it for herself, not because she thought I needed it. She has been nothing but kind about my expanding horizon. I, on the other hand, have become increasingly agitated with myself. Anyway, I started using the scale this past week, not every day, but probably four of the last five days. Much to my dismay, the numbers on the digital display rose like the express elevator in a skyscraper. As it stopped at 215 pounds this morning, I made a decision. I went out to the kitchen and threw out every last one of the delightful little nuggets left.

I’m swearing off sweets/pastries/baked goods/whatever for the foreseeable future.

However long that may be.

This is not an easy thing for me to do, but I’m really left with no choice. It seems I’ve finally reached the point where my body will no longer let me eat like an unsupervised 8 year old. Frankly, I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did. But maybe it makes some sense. I’m roughly the same age now as my Dad was when he retired. As far back as I can recall, Dad weighed around 165 pounds. Until he retired. Then he grew a little bit of a paunch. I guess I’m there. Judging from what I see in the mirror and on the scale, I’m past there. Also, as I’m putting this missive together, I feel like there’s a little bit more redundancy than I’d normally like. Typically, if I catch myself doing that, I’ll either apologize for it, or go back and edit what I’ve written to resolve it. I think I’m ok with it today, I probably need to keep rubbing this mess in my face.

So it’s cold turkey for me. That approach has worked for me in the past, specifically when I’ve quit smoking. Maybe by throwing that stuff in the garbage, I’ll be able to pull this off too. I told B2 this morning that I’m going to get back out and start walking too. Can’t hurt, might help, right? That’s the same reason I decided to post about this, put a little extra pressure on myself by going public.

One last thing before I move on to the musical portion. Don’t expect this to turn in to a regular feature. I don’t plan on doing any kind of an update on this A.) because I don’t think anyone cares so much that they would want to follow along with my “misery” and B.) I feel like this particular topic is pretty boring and I’d much rather write things about stuff I enjoy writing about.

Peace

PS

Here’s today’s musical guest – John Moreland. Again. I really wasn’t going to listen to him today, had other stuff queued up, but when I sat down at the coffeehouse and said hi to the owner/barista she mentioned she hadn’t had a chance to give him a listen yet. The backstory there is; she has a sign in the shop that says “Long Live The Songwriter” so one day I asked her who her favorite songwriter was. She was kind of stumped I guess, cause she answered by asking who mine was. I told her in my case the answer was kind of transient, depending on my mood, etc. but that currently my favorite was John Moreland. She was unfamiliar with him, but wrote his name down and said she’d give him a listen. So, when I walked in this morning, she asked his name again and put him on the house system. So my decision was made for me. I have no complaints.

About anything really.

Other than my waistline.

Again, Peace

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All I Want For Christmas

This one kinda hit me this morning so I thought I’d better jump on it and see what I can build. I think I’ve done something similar in the past, but tbh I’m not interested in checking, and besides, even if I did, I’m fairly confident this’ll be different enough that there won’t be a bunch of overlap. Even if there is some, everybody likes reruns now and again, right?

Yes, I totally glossed over the fact that I haven’t put anything up here in a good long while. I’ve also conveniently tuned out any voices that may or may not have been harping at me to do something here (I’m looking in your general direction now Ray) but I have, in fact been typing, occasionally furiously, on something else and managed to add several thousand words to it over the last few months. So there’s that.

But now, onward!

With the holiday approaching, whichever one you may celebrate, I felt like this would be a good time to share my thoughts on giving. B2 and I were talking about Christmas the other day, specifically about gift giving. And as I laid out my thoughts, a sometimes opaque process, I’ll grant you that, she saw where I was headed and agreed with me completely. I’d like to share those thoughts with you all (all 7 of you faithful readers) here in case anyone feels moved to appropriate the idea.

I have a pretty good life, by any measure. I have a nice home (due in no small part to the presence of B2 but that’s a story for another time), I have a nice car, I have more clothes than I need and a surprising number of shoes, especially if you’ll recall my comments from a much earlier post about how living with Diane and Caitlin was like living with Imelda Marcos. And if you’re too young to remember Imelda Marcos, I suggest you take a second and GTS “Imelda Marcos and shoes” and this will become crystal clear to you. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I have gotten to the point in my life where I don’t really need anything and if I decide I want something, I go and buy it for myself. This is not to say I’m a Rockefeller (again, too young? GTS the name) by any means, merely that, by and large, life has been pretty darn kind to me. I mean, when my time to shuffle off this mortal coil comes, my kids are not going to become independently wealthy. This should not be breaking news to any of them btw, and if it is, well I guess they’re not quite as bright as I’d given them credit for being. I mean I’m not going to leave them nothing, they’ll surely be able to enjoy a lovely plate of nachos or some similar, tasty, small plate on my largesse.

Bon appétit you guys!

As I was saying…

Typically, my tendency to buy for myself is not a problem for anyone concerned. However I recognize the stress this can put on my loved ones, particularly around this time of year, well, you feel me, right? So I told B2 instead of spending money on each other, with the exception of surcee type things, stocking stuffers if you will, we should instead look for someone or something in the community that can use a hand up around this time of year. I also reached out to my kids and suggested instead of getting me something their money would be better spent making a contribution to the non-profit of their choice. I made the same request to half of B2‘s kids too. Haven’t had the chance to tell her other one yet, but that’ll be taken care of soon. When her son asked me last week what was on my list, I explained my thoughts. His first comment was confirming Ryan did a run for one and when I told him yes, he said that was where they’d make their donation.

That, my friends, is the essence of what I’d like my Christmas to be. Taking care of those less fortunate. I’m a little embarrassed it’s taken me this long in my life to realize the things that are truly important, but there’s no time like the present to go about doing the right thing, you know? I read an aphorism a while back, that, while I’m certain isn’t new, was the first time I read it and it kind of struck a chord with me. It said –

“The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is today.”

Man, that was a throat punch to my sense of self satisfaction. It really helped to form this whole thought process too. I should’ve planted this tree some time ago. But I didn’t. So I’m planting it today. And I’m grateful B2 jumped right on it too. Just another of the many reasons I’m fortunate to have found her.

I guess that’s about all I’m trying to get across here today. I hope it helps inspire someone else with a little extra this year to give to those in need. If you’ve been doing this already, good on you, I’m proud to know you. If you’re not at the point in your life where you can do this, I totally get it. File this little gem away for when that time comes for you.

Remember the tree.

And, of course…

Peace

PS- Geez I really haven’t done one of these in a long damn time. I thought I’d try and add something to these posts, infrequent though they may be. I’m almost always at a coffeehouse when I fire off one of these potential Pulitzer nominees and probably equally as often I’ve got something bouncing between my ears at a reasonable decibel level *ahem* and I thought, for the sake of idk what, I’d include the particular artist in the post. So for the inaugural edition, today’s musical guest has been Turnpike Troubadours. It’s been a pretty enjoyable ride too, I must say. Their selection was triggered by a post I saw a couple days ago that their frontman got himself sober and the band is going back out on the road. This is great news for them, of course and on many levels, but for anyone that has ever seen them live it’s a pretty damn good day. They are a rollicking good time live, I assure you and I’m looking forward to them hitting this part of the country.

Ok, that’s all I’ve got for ya. Be well, happy holidays and all that stuff!

Peace

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Southernisms – The Sequel

Today feels like a good day for a little light-hearted fare. So if you’ll allow me to play Mr. Language Person (with apologies to Dave Barry) then let’s dive right in to a few more southernisms, shall we?

Astute and/or long time readers of this page may recall (and it should be easy since production numbers have been pretty low this year) a semi-recent post in which I referenced my immersion into the dialect of the American southeast. Of course I’ve been compiling additions to the list since the seed for the original post was planted with the intention of doing exactly this, so, without further ado, here you are.

One afternoon, a handful of weeks back we had one of those days where it was simultaneously sunny and raining. Not exactly a rarity on par with finding a four leaf clover, or hitting the lotto, but pretty uncommon nonetheless. When B2 asked me if I knew what this phenomenon was called, I must admit, my first thought was not “Oh good, more fodder for the blog!” But it might’ve flashed in almost instantly after, as she told me…

“It means the devil is beating his wife.”

I’ll pause here briefly, to kinda let that one bounce around your brain as it did mine…

I’ve gotta say right here, I had no clue what she was going to say; but that particular group of words, in that particular order, was not something I would have ever guessed prior to hearing them. And, even though I didn’t doubt what she was saying was, in fact, a thing, I felt the need to go ahead and GTS that phrase. Lo and behold, it’s an actual thing here in the south.

Now, for your further education (because, hey, I’m nothing if not helpful) and in no particular order, here are more of my favorite Southernisms-

Let’s say you’re sitting outside, enjoying a lovely evening. Save for one thing. Getting dive-bombed by those blood-sucking, little, flying bastards aka mosquitos. And they’re feasting on you. You’ve been “bug bit”. As in-

“I was sitting in the carport but I had to come back in, I was getting bug bit.

Or suppose you’re spending your Saturday morning by strolling around downtown. You’ve decided you’d like to stop by the farmer’s market for some fresh, home-grown produce. As you’re making your way leisurely around the center of town you encounter an acquaintance and, in passing, you casually mention you’d like to stop by said farmer’s market for some peaches. (This btw is getting near to the end of the season for them and if you happen to be traveling south, I encourage you to grab some, they are amazing.) Your friend has a warning for you that includes the Southernism “get gone”. This is how the conversation might go-

“Honey you’d best get there right now before they get gone”

I feel like I should point out here, that both of the examples above are not in a southern dialect. I’m still y’all-less. Mostly. I did throw one out recently (to other drivers. I know, right? Who could’ve guessed?) but I’m not sure it counts since I was in Illinois when it happened. And it still feels disingenuous on my part to start trying to speak like someone that has spent the better part, or all of, their life living in the south. For better or worse, I’m a midwesterner and my speech patterns, ingrained for lo these many (many. Many. MANY.) years are with me to the end. And I’m ok with that fwiw.

Moving on, here’s another southernism, kinda. It’s something near and dear to my heart and tbh it took me by surprise just how wonderful I found it to be. Hand Pies (trust me, the capitalization is deserved). These things are the real deal, yet based on my childhood I never expected them to be. Most, if not all of you are likely aware of Hostess fruit pies. They were, in my case, a random, pleasant addition to my parents trips to the grocery store. And they were fine when I was 12. But at some point you realize that they are, in essence, cardboard quality pastry dough with jelly smeared on the inside, and watered down glazing on the outside. Again, it was fine for the childhood me, but I outgrew them and, as an adult, never really had the conscious thought of “I need to buy some next time I go to the store.” Living down here I’ve seen Hand Pies (I’ve made the editorial decision that, henceforth, just as RVCB’s! will always have an exclamation point, Hand Pies shall always be capitalized.) on menus in a few different southern comfort food type restaurants, and tried them at one of my favorite places in my town. And that one was significantly better than the commercially made product of my youth. But recently we stopped in at a coffeehouse/bakery in Winston-Salem on a visit to the parents of B2 , at a place called Lavender and Honey. On the display counter I noticed a collection of Hand Pies, peach in this case, and they looked amazing. Better than the ones I’d seen here previously. So I ordered one. Can I just take a minute here while I flash back on that in my mind?

OH MY FRICKIN’ GOD IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!!

Like, incredible as in I heard a gospel choir in full throat busting out in my head when I stopped to think about them just now.

Fluffy, light, flavorful, lovely. I mean they were so damn good I’m compiling a list of felonies I’d be willing to commit just to get another one. It’s about a 45 minute drive up there, so it’s not like I can just hop over and get one. I mean, of course, I could do that, but I’ve got to have some semblance of restraint, you know? Especially when I consider how hard it was to get into my suit last weekend. Oof. Go ahead and insert a “fat guy in a little coat” mental image here if you like, cause god knows I tried to insert one into the post and couldn’t. But yeah, that’s pretty much spot on.

I guess that’s about all I’m going to attempt here today. Except for one more thing. I think I’m going to start a new ‘feature within the feature’ kinda thing starting with today’s post and continuing until I forget to do it. Whenever I work on a post, for basically as long as I can recall, I’ve got music playing. Whether blaring (oops, I mean rolling along at an audibly safe level) through my headphones, or on the rare occasions I write at home blasting through the, well if I’m home alone it’s rockin’ through the whole house. But since I’m currently at a coffeehouse I’ve got Foo Fighters racing around my brain. This is in tribute to a video I saw this morning. It was from last night’s FF concert at the Forum in Los Angeles and it featured a performance by Nandi Bushell. If you’re not familiar you need to GTS this young lady, she is the absolute shit. Last year, at the ripe old age of 11 she challenged Dave Grohl to a drum off and she killed it. They kept up the video correspondence culminating in her walking on stage and playing “Everlong” with the band last night. I’ll try and save you a little legwork, click here to watch this, now 12 year old, genius rock the eff out. I sat there the whole time with a big, stupid, grin on my face watching, I hope you enjoy it just as much.

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Where It Began. Or Maybe, When.

So, I alluded to this several times over the last little bit, but ten years ago today I hit the “Post” button for the first time. This was the result, such as it is. It was viewed by a whopping 26 hearty souls. But I didn’t really care about quantity (some would argue I wasn’t concerned with quality either) so much as I wanted to get something out there. In the years between then and now, I’ve written on a few different topics, some intensely personal, some random observations, and some, well, some place in the middle of those two poles. It’s really been a lot of fun, I must say.

And, at times, a little painful.

For today, I’d rather avoid the painful part.

I know, let’s get a little old business out of the way. My unpaid research assistant (a.k.a. the Oldest One) did a little GTSing for me and found out there are no less than fifteen towns named Acme in these here United States and that one is, in fact, in North Carolina. Named (according to Wikipedia fwiw) after a local manufacturing company where I believe they made earthquake pills, rockets, anvils, time machines, portable holes, and other anti-roadrunner devices. So there’s that.

Also, there may or may not be a hurricane bearing down on my part of the country again. At this point it’s too soon to know with any real certainty where this one will go, but as of this morning the track seems to keep it off shore and we’ll only get an inch or two of rain. If a hurricane is going to hit, I think we can all agree one that comes at you like a Girl Scout desperate to sell one last box of Thin Mints is far better than one that comes at you like you owe it money after a string of unsuccessful wagers, if you get my drift.

I know, let’s do a travelogue! I haven’t done one of those in a really long time.

Yesterday, I took a short (two hours or so) road trip to Boone, NC. Located in the Blue Ridge Mountains in the western part of the state, it’s nothing like the region I chose. While I am quite fond of where I landed here, let me just say, that part of NC is just stunningly beautiful. This picture was taken at one of the scenic overlooks along the Blue Ridge Parkway, and this really doesn’t do it justice. Standing there, looking out towards the horizon was one of the most peaceful moments I’ve had in a really long time, and I didn’t want to get back in the car. The town of Boone itself was pretty cool, a nice little college town. I enjoyed a wonderful shrimp po boy (Labor Day weekend shout out), walked around the downtown area for a bit and then found… a coffeehouse, where I enjoyed a lovely vanilla latte. Due to it’s elevation (a little over 3,000 ft above sea level) the temperature was in the mid 70’s which was about 10º cooler than here by me. Walked around a small lake at Moses Cone Park, checked out Blowing Rock, NC (that’s got to be high on the last of all-time great municipal names btw) and spent part of the drive home on the aforementioned Blue Ridge Parkway. It seems like that would be a pretty cool way to spend a weekend, it’s about 400 miles long running from Asheville to Rockfish Gap, VA and the maximum speed limit is 45 mph, something that would be particularly helpful to anyone that has, say, a tendency towards a heavy right foot *raises hand* and often needs reminding it’s about the journey and not the destination *keeps hand in the air*

Well, as often happens around here, I got side-tracked and ran completely off from where I intended this thing to go when I started. But the weekend really was amazing, so…

I know many of you have stuck around here from very early on and for that I am grateful. I also know many of you have just recently discovered this literary hot mess so, welcome! But to each and every one of you that’s ever read what I have to say here, I truly appreciate it. I’m thankful for every single like, heart, share, comment, basically any and all interactions you have with my humble, little, blog. I’ll do my best to keep us all entertained for another ten years.

Peace.

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Musicalitious

For starters, I’m pretty sure that’s not a word. It is however an apt description for my upcoming weekend. I’m off to Athens, Georgia to see two shows as part of the Drive By Truckers annual HeAthens Homecoming. I’m stoked. I’ve also got an extra ticket for the shows on Friday night and Saturday night, if you can make it, let me know.

If you know me IRL you may already know I tend to over purchase because the eternal optimist in me tends to buy more than one ticket to concerts. I may have even written about it here before. I’ve gotten better about that since I moved down here, not having ready access to multiple concert-loving friends has helped. #LillyNO will be in the capable hands of my next door neighbor for the weekend, so other than a relatively short commute (I mean, in the last year I’ve driven to Memphis, Nashville, and Chattanooga for concerts, so Athens, GA is like going across town) I have an excellent weekend on my horizon.

And, before that my favorite sister is coming to visit for a couple days. I’m kidding about the “favorite” part. Mostly. I mean, she does read this stuff, so that counts for something, amirite? My other sister (and/or my brother) might read it though, so I’d better add the disclaimer that I, of course, have no favorite siblings. I won’t even mention the fact that only one of them has come to central North Carolina for a visit. Twice.

Moving right along…

I’ve truly been fortunate since I left the old DGFD as far as sampling tasty live music, and I plan on riding this wave as long as I can, you know?

I’m jumping back to the if you know me IRL part here. I was chatting with one of my neighbors yesterday and she dropped the phrase “functional procrastinator” during our conversation. I immediately told her I was stealing that line, since it applies almost perfectly to me. And I’m mentioning that because the first four paragraphs of this were written last week before I left for the concerts in Athens. I started it at the coffeehouse Tuesday, the day the Cheesehead members of my family were due to arrive. And promptly sat on it until today. Functional procrastination.

This is not a new phenomenon for me. I first became aware of my tendencies to put things off until the last minute in high school. Specifically the last part of my junior year. I started that year taking an Electronics course at the local vocational school. I soon learned Electronics were not my forte. Not by a long shot. I figuratively crashed and burned, but I’m pretty confident had I stayed in the class for the second semester that would have turned literal. At least the burn part. So I dropped the half-day class at the vocational center and instead filled my day with English classes, since they were plentiful then. One of the classes was, oddly enough, Creative Writing. Now my details may be a tad off since I went to high school a million years ago, but, as I recall, it was a half-semester class. The other half may have been Speech, but that’s not particularly germane to where I’m going here. What is relevant is that back then, progress reports were sent home at the six week mark, to let your parents know what a slacker you were. My teacher informed me on a Friday that if I didn’t turn in roughly 20 pages (hand written) worth of assignments on the following Monday, I’d be receiving one of those gems in the mail. So that weekend I cranked out the required page count. And got about four hours of sleep. I did really well though, my grades were all in the 90’s. Except for Haiku and Iambic Pentameter; two things I couldn’t wrap my 16 year old brain around. I took zeros on both.

Now, one would think that a lesson was learned here, right? Do the work as it’s required instead of working like a dope all weekend long and things will go much smoother. Not me. As the end of the grading period rapidly approached, my exasperated teacher once again advised me if I didn’t get my assignments (15 pages or so) in “on Monday” I would likely fail the class. Can I just add here that Mr. Perry was the absolute shit? I loved that guy. Anyway, I again wrote my ass off all weekend, and again scored in the 90’s on everything I turned in.

There are likely several other examples I could relate here, but I think I’ll hold off on them for now…

Peace

PS- because, well, you know… The concerts KICKED ASS! Jesus it was a good weekend! Met some cool people; a firefighter from north Alabama, a couple from outside Nashville and a guy that works at the public library in the Deeg, of all places. Small world, no? I went to an annual charity event the band helps out with on Saturday, to benefit Nuci’s Space and in a total fanboy move, took a selfie with Patterson Hood of the Truckers. That’s out of character for me, btw. But I told a friend I’d relay her greeting to Patterson and figured I’d get photographic proof of said encounter. He was very gracious, I must say, for having an elderly boob approach him as he was chatting with someone and ask for a picture.

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Life With Lilly Episode 5 #LillyNO Visits The Coffeehouse

I’m sitting here at my semi-local coffeehouse this morning, trying to compose some thoughts on a variety of things, and I decided to take a break from that to tell you this.

Coffeehouses in general, and this one in particular (since this is the one where you’ll find me) are apparently, and I know I’ve written about this before, magnets for random characters.  For instance, here this morning I’ve seen; what I can only describe as David Lee Roth in drag sipping on coffee and working a crossword puzzle, any number of college students working on, I’m sure, a wide variety of assignments, what I believe to be one of the local homeless highlighting (and by highlighting I mean, underlining verse after verse after verse with a black pen) passages in an extremely well-worn Bible, a couple of collections of local business types holding some sort of impromptu meeting (probably in violation of the Open Meetings Act) and, of course a lovely selection of hipster types.  Hey, I’ve got no problem whatsoever with eclecticism, heck it makes for great fodder for those of us that like to write about random things, you know?

This shop is also, what you call “pet friendly” according to their website and I have, in fact, seen people here with their dogs.  So, of course, yesterday morning, I brought #LillyNO up here for her maiden voyage.  She did great.  Was her usual, charming self, and very well-behaved.  She was a little skittish when we first walked in, but quickly calmed herself once people started paying attention to her.  Tail wagging and belly rubbing ensued in a very short time-frame and she only needed to be reminded not to jump up a couple of times.  I enjoyed a lovely latte while she laid at my feet, eagerly (Oh please, oh please pay attention to meeeeee people!) awaiting someone, anyone, to make eye contact with her, at which point she would get up, thrash the air with her tail, and seek ear scratches and praise from her new adorers.  I think her tail is a little blurry in this picture, and it’s because she just noticed someone coming over to say hello to her.

We then took a little walk around downtown Greensboro, which she seemed to enjoy just as much as she did Nashville, even though there was nowhere near as much in the way of discarded food scraps on the sidewalks here.  Not too many people around on a Sunday morning here either, so with less socialization going on the walk went pretty quickly.  The only issue came when she got freaked out by an overzealous dog inside a parked car.  He or she was not particularly happy to see us judging by the forcefulness of the barking.  #LillyNO tucked in behind my legs while we waited for the walk light to change so we could move on and she quickly forgot about the foul language the dog threw her way.  So yes, I think there will be more trips to the coffeehouse for #LillyNO in the future.  For now, when I try to write, I’ll leave her home.  But when I can focus on her behavior, she’ll be a more frequent visitor, no doubt.

Imma keep this one short today, I have errands to tend to back home.  I’m not sure if I’ll get anything out before the holiday so I’ll leave you  with these thoughts  I’m thankful for each and every one of you that takes some time out of your day to look at this stuff.  You rock.  And, lastly, despite where we are as a country and as human beings, we have much for which to be thankful.  If you’re reading this, there’s a really good chance you’ve got a roof over your head and a place to rest your head each night.  Far too many of our brothers and sisters on this planet can’t say the same thing.  So appreciate what you have, and recognize the thin line between what society sees as normalcy and utter chaos.

Peace

PS- etc. etc. As proof it’s time for me to go, a grown-ass man just walked in here in his jammies.  I shit you not.  I’m out.