Tennessee Soybean Festival ’08

3 09 2008

I went back to work full-time yesterday still coming off the ‘roids which gave me a killer headache. I’m not a headache person so I felt like my eyes were falling out, but it was fine.

In Hoots, we are holding the 15th Annual Tennessee Soybean Festival. (Incidentally, Laura Carson, who I pointed out on Sunday, didn’t win the Aimee Mann contest but did win the Best Overall Preliminaries at The Bean’s Talent Show and will be competing in the Mid South Fair in Memphis.She’s also going to see her idol tonight in Nashville. So here’s a shout out for her.)

My cunning plan yesterday was to go and hang out with the carnies who were setting up. I am enamored with carnies every since I saw Robbie Robertson be one in the movie “Carny” but I didn’t see anyone who looked anything like him.

Man, they were a surly bunch.

My aim was to talk to someone who might be from New Orleans as the name of the carnival outfit was Crescent City Amusements. In a moment of trying to dig up a story, I thought someone here would have some insight on Hurricane Gustav. They are from New Orleans but none of the actual carnies are. No dice and they pretty much told me to scram. One female carny told me to basically get lost. So I went and got Badger Beth and returned. Not that Badger could do anything, I just wanted a witness to the snide glory of it all.

Well, they told me three times, so I kept going back. The carnies were not fond of me, so harassing them seemed like a good idea as I apparently needed their approval and adoration. Random Question: Every year they put up a “Help Wanted” sign.

The Sign From Last Year

The Sign From Last Year

Should I apply?

Anyway, in my steroidy head, I decided to go up on top of a building where I could take a picture. However, there was no building to be found and I looked for a couple of hours. (Problem is that many of the building are boarded up.) I’m going to haunt the roof of the local library today. It’s my last best shot.

So, we are honoring the glories of the Soybean. It’s pretty much a fun event.

One thing I think the organizers of this event got right was that there are three nights of entertainment in a stage built smack downtown. Thursday night, Corey Smith is performing (which I hear the college students are stoked about although I have to admit I wasn’t familiar with him.) Friday night, Marshall Tucker and Saturday is Lonestar. So I guess there is something for everyone.

I roamed around as the stage was being built, eyed the carnies who wanted no part of me (WHY DON’T THEY LOVE ME?) as, of course, I’m smitten with them and took some more random shots around town. I checked in at Cadillacs, where some of you know, to see if my zombie-inspired darts had come in yet (They haven’t) and was going to head back to my beloved carnies but Squirrel Queen put a stop to it.

She is more reasonable than I am.

So, I’m guessing this is a Hooterville Exclusive.

TennViews Weekly Round-Up

31 08 2008

Russ has done a great job again rounding up liberal bloggers thoughts on the Democratic Convention in Denver, Sarah Palin and other goodies.

Head over to Tennviews and catch up with a cup of coffee, a good book and your cyber buddies.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #287

24 08 2008

Yesterday, I rambled around aimlessly with the posse of Squirrel Queen, and later, with Badger Beth.

It was one of those days that didn’t make a lot of sense, there was beer and Biden Talk (in the same location. Note to self, asking a proprietor of a dive if you can “borrow” the television to watch Obama/Biden’s first press conference brings up some awkward conversations thus demanding that more beer must be consumed as we listen to old fogies drinking Natty Light talk about that we are in the apocalypse. Sigh.)

I thought Biden came out swinging and, as I have said before, some of Obama’s naysayers I deal with on an ongoing level, seemed somewhat pleased. We still have lots of time though before the big day in November.

We played darts (and I sucked) and ate at not one but two restaurants. The first one for lunch sucked so bad as our water had floaters in it and everything tasted like four-day old catfish. The shame of it all was that we did not order catfish. Nor did the waiter get us new waters. Nor did he receive a tip which is a shame because I’m an awesomely good tipper.

The second restaurant was a new Italian themed place that was actually quite tasty. I was surprised. Hoots Central has two Italian restaurants now. Imagine my surprise. We still have sushi rolls with bologna in them which saddens me to no end and also makes me queasy. What next? Squirrel Sushi. Blech.

Squirrel Queen was apparently looking for redemption and anger management classes after being very, very tired from her 2 billion hours of working overtime which happens about every five years so BB and I got her home. (I tease because of the love.)

As her tiredness overcame her, BB and I had a slumber party watching television, talking politics and thinking about what the future holds us.

Every once in a while, having a sleepover is fun no matter what your age is.

We all realized we were somewhat bored and were wondering if all roads lead to Hooterville and we decided that they, indeed, do not.

These are the days we appreciate and that are also quite telling.

Aimless, summer days aren’t too shabby.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #489

26 06 2008

I’ve sort of been in a cave for the month of June in an angry, bitter battle with my very own psyche that has given me internal chiggers.

Yay. I suck.

Steve Austin is still missing in action, I’ve got a wicked sinus infection of some sort so I’ve been taking random antibiotics just lying about the house that I think were for a UTI or for ailments which could be anything from Cootie protection to PMS help which is only known to the Gods, but I digress. Due to the lack of wheels and motivation, I’ve had to put the Goosepond Swamp Monster excursion on hold. All I know is that I feel like platypus vomit.

So I’ve been wondering about the innertubes, whining to my friends as I am human and then staring at a pair of yellow Crocs that I haven’t worn in over a year thinking this might give me some sign. Yeah, that’s my kind of interior design, campers. The Official Church of the Smelly-Assed, Ugly Crocs has given me no visions other that I probably should just throw them away.

I also bought a 24 oz can of Miller Lite the other day, not once but twice, which means I’m just too damned depressed or becoming a crazy dog lady with an inclination to ugly shoes.

Anytime that I believe anyone is planning life changing ideas, it can get very easy to hold on to the familiar that isn’t really healthy or productive as a lifeline. Here’s what I mean. It’s easier to do nothing and be angry/martyred about it then to DO something.

In the past year I have been trying to learn things outside my box. I fail sometimes, other times I do all right.

The one thing that escapes me is that after a very sad journey last year on a project that was halted before it even got up and started, I lost my mojo and became afraid of …. dun dun duuuuuun …

Technology and Movement.

I’ve been reading and trying to train myself but I think I’ve gone as far as I can go on my own. Now, I follow a ton of technology geeks who embrace their geekdom where I’m more of a pop culture/news/political geek. I don’t understand why Dave Winer and some guy named Loren are fighting on Friendfeed over some other guy named Shel Israel.

It seems very insidery to me and involves puppets.

You can’t make this up but I think it goes further than that.  I don’t understand the monetization of a website as well as I would like but I’m trying to learn. I may not be a techie but I am a pretty good DJ blogger for lack of a better term. I hear a lot of talk about rankings (I have a Google Page Rank of 5. I didn’t know what that meant until about two months ago. I also know I have 273 reactions on Technorati.) I think that’s alright, isn’t it?

I also know I like Brie, Import beer and sushi which I cannot get here in Hooterville, and yes, I’m still digressing.

I realized, in my daily ramblings though I do know one thing, and that is people. I’m not perfect but I forgot that was a pretty good skill to have. I’m a good listener when I can hear. (Heh, heh, I crack myself up.) I also am pondering the same life changes I was looking at a year ago. I think it’s time for me to shut up and do.

So, it’s an annoying autobiographical pause. I would like to thank Badger, SQ, Russ, Ivy and Ginger for listening and supporting me. This is a thank you to all of you.

And now that I’m done processing the unprocessable (I just made up a word. Yay Me!) go over to Sharon Cobb’s and wish her well. She’s having a rough time and everyone needs a kind word now and then.

Go on.

Carpooling In Hooterville

3 05 2008

In an effort to save money, I’ve been carpooling. It’s not convenient nor is it fun but I’ve been doing it because right now it’s just a smart thing to do. In a small town and a county that has less people than let’s say Donelson in Nashville or Mid Town in Memphis but much more acreage, there is no public transportation.

You cut where you can.

I’ve heard from three different people asking me why my car has either been sitting in the driveway at Chez Coma or why sometimes I leave it at the office and ride with SQ. When I tell them I’m saving money on gas by riding with someone else or they ride with me, I get some weird looks.

You see, cars and trucks around here are tools and necessary. And for some folks it’s their identity. For me, I could care less as long as I get where I need to be. And I find it so peculiar that me not driving as much has people talking. It’s not that interesting actually.

The one thing about where I live that bugs me is the lack of sidewalks in my neighborhood. When I was a kid, our next door neighbor was plowed over by a car and died just up the road from where I live now. I do not walk on the highways here. It freaks me out. But I digress. (Reliving childhood moment, pardon me for a second.)

When I lived in Montreal and Amsterdam, I walked everywhere and I loved it. I took the trams, the underground, trains and buses. It was no problem and to be honest, I liked it. I was in the best shape of my life. Of course, when taking mass transit, you have to be scheduled or you will be sitting in the middle of nowhere at 3 a.m. I learned that lesson quick. It takes just one time to get it.

Needless to say, reading Brittney Gilbert’s adventures in mass transit makes me a bit nostalgic.

Back to carpooling, it’s something that I believe is saving me some dough-re-mi. And why this is on my mind this morning I have no idea but I do know that it does make a difference as the price of a gallon of gas is something that in my household at least, has to be put into the budget and that even driving 60 miles round trip just up the road goes off in my brain with a cash register ring that says 8 bucks.

I’d get a scooter but Homer and Squirrel Queen have nixed it.

“You will die,” Homer has said more than once. “And I’m not cleaning it up.”

“But it will save gas,” I argue.

“You have no coordination, Newscoma,” Squirrel Queen always says giving Homer a look where I know they’ve been talking about it. “Seriously, you can’t even walk without there being an incident.”

There is truth in this statement so instead of fussing I just do what everyone needs to do at least three times a year.

I pout. It only makes sense.

So, as my car sits at certain times, I’ve decided to make up elaborate reasons of why it’s parked instead of telling the truth that I’m carpooling because for some reason that is beyond my grasp, people just don’t like that answer.

I’ve decided to say Homeland Security is making me park it in a master plan to catch Guatemalan drug dealers.

That’ll get folks talking.

The One Where Newscoma Is Wicked Sick

30 03 2008

Last week, I was feeling like I lost my mojo. I was a bit disconcerted, not a bit of fun to be around and just felt peculiar and odd. It was one of those times that I just couldn’t get my rhythm.

Have you ever gone through that? It’s very strange. I just felt tired and cranky and a bit depressed/angry. Friday night, I felt really strange. It was almost like my head was coming off my brain stem.

Well, there must have been a reason I’m finding out.


Squirrel Queen, the nieces and I have had a lovely bout of the flu this weekend. As none of us could lift our heads off the cool tile of the bathroom, the idea of going to a doctor was not possible.

We are talking a house full ‘o sick.

I feel as bad as bloated up roadkill on one of our roads here in Hoots.

I would give you the lowdown on the nastiness, but I’m thinking you would sort of gross out. God knows I have.

Just hoping the week doesn’t kick my hiney this week. Bronchitis and now this is making me wonder if I need to move to Arizona or seriously forget about a life coach and get a damned doctor’s visit.

Bear with me, campers.

For some very good reading about small business and the election, go see Vibinc.

And then go over to Squirrel Queen’s. And then hit Jack’s for a really good essay on news and the Internet which is fierce.

Going to pass out in front of the game.

Send Squirrel Queen and I reinforcements if you don’t hear from us.

“… as though they were adults.”

20 03 2008

As I told you earlier this week, I’ve been busy and I was taking a much-needed sabbatical from watching the democratic candidates try to tear each other up.

Of course, I saw something this morning that reminded me why I’m not too bothered about the whole Jeremiah Wright/Barack Obama thing this past week. If you want to know the truth, I could care less what Wright said.

I was listening to what Obama said.

Having a few days to process this because I wanted to sit down and actually listen to the 37 minutes of his speech from Tuesday, I didn’t want to be swayed by what other people are saying. I wanted to have my own opinion. On Twitter, I saw people going at it about the speech with folks taking very broad strokes articulating which camps they were in. Don’t get me wrong, it was intriguing.

I have two lines of thinking on this. I am an adult. I pay taxes. I work at a job I go to everyday. I am paying medical bills off from my Ednaectomy from a year and a half ago still. I have ups and downs like everyone I know. I have a car that needs work. I have a family that I love. And I have people in my life that are good influences, and some who aren’t so positive. I am flawed as everyone is.

And I go back to I am an adult.

And I agree with Jon Stewart to a large degree about the speech. After five minutes of his opening bit on The Daily Show, he said one sentence that made me think. He said:

“at 11:00 on a Tuesday, a prominent politician spoke to Americans about race, as though they were adults.”

I want to be spoken to like an adult about politics.

Race issues are real. Gender issues are real. If you are for Obama, it doesn’t mean you are anti-woman. If you are for Clinton, it doesn’t mean that you are anti-black. The party that has commended themselves of being diverse through my life has taken to playing some really jacked-up games recently. And I don’t like it.

Are American citizens the ones beating these issues with a hammer? Is it the media? Is it the strategy of political spin from the Rove handbook, as I’ve questioned before?

I needed to sit down and process the speech given by Obama without interruption. I didn’t want to be swayed by other people’s opinions of the speech. I thought it was a good one and I agree with Stewart, we were spoken to with bluntness that, and this is my opinion, treated me with the respect I deserve as a voting American.

And most of the folks talking about what he said probably weren’t going to vote for Obama anyway. But, in a thoughtful discussion at Ginger’s, people were talking about hesitations about the candidate. This kind of discussion is a good thing. It’s best to have “adult” conversations about politics instead of a bunch of name-calling and I commend Ginger for being upfront in her uncertainty.

I respect a person’s right to question the whole Wright thing. As Americans, if it bothered folks, they need to process it out. I pay him about as much mind as I did Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson (who at one time openly spoke of assassinating Hugo Chavez.) Preachers (as they are called around here) are human beings too with flaws, emotions and beliefs. I had grandparents on both sides of my family who went to church every time the doors opened. Homer is a regular church attendee. I don’t think Homer and the preacher are voting for the same guy.

As for me, I saw it and didn’t put too much thought in it. Others did.

There are no easy answers here. The one thing that I do want to stress is that quite frequently a group of us here in rural America get together for a couple of beers. Politics invariably comes up. Cravens voted for Edwards, Squirrel Queen voted for Hillary and I voted for Obama on Super Tuesday.

The issues of race and gender rarely come up although they do occasionally. We are all adults who had a preference. We voted for whom we thought would be the best person.

What we do talk about is the economy, the war, how we are having to stretch our dollars further than we have had to since our days in school and the personal realities we have faced with healthcare.

You know, because these are the issues impacting us personally in our adult life.

Keep On Rockin’ In The Free World

2 03 2008


Now, on to Tennviews and R. Neal’s Sunday liberal extravaganza.

The Sunday “oh, no he didn’t? or, it’s been an extra long leap week for the TN GOP” edition of the TennViews weekly blog roundup showcasing the best and brightest bloggers in Tennessee and what they are talking about…• 55-40 Memphis: Second biggest fear, plus: Beale Street tribute hits a sour note.• Andy Axel (at KnoxViews): TNGOP playing politics with the State Constitution,• Aunt B.: On the TNGOP attempt to establish guilt by association, plus leave Bill Hobbs alone!

• BlountViews: How embarrassing would it be to be a member of the TNGOP right now?

• Carole Borges: Obama’s formula for success: radical centrism.

• The Crone Speaks: On the failure of the abortion amendment, plus the TNGOP apparently never got the Karl Rove memo, and, notes to Clinton and Obama from candidates who dropped out.

• Cup of Joe Powell: On the Bill Hobbs implosion, plus cheers for the TNGOP, bonus: Vampires!

• Don Williams: Help fight mountaintop removal.

• The Donkey’s Mouth: TNGOP: Gutter politics, McCain denounces, scolded by RNC.

• Enclave: Gathering the NAFTA pitchforks, plus TNGOP: Leave Obama’s momma out of it, part 1 and part 2.

• Fletch: Cute by any other name, what do you see, and barking at the moon is a full time job.

• KnoxViews: Where in the world is Smokey? Plus: respect for Hillary, and who will answer the call?

• Lean Left: KTK: Obama comes out for gay rights and a weight is lifted

• Left of the Dial: Money fuels the debate over XM/SIRIUS merger

• Left Wing Cracker: RIP Rep. Gary Rowe, plus Hobbs has outdone himself.

• Liberadio: 2008 election results leaked, plus a little desensitizing.

• Loose TN Canon: Hobbs deleted my comments!

• NewsComa: Hobbs wins the Tennessee Wanker award and it’s only February!

• Pesky Fly: Obama brings out the knives.

• Progressive Nashville: Something in the Arizona water? Plus: TNGOP thinks cheap stunts are acceptable behavior.

• Resonance: Superdelegates jumping between bandwagons, plus slacker Silent Clarence.

• RoaneViews: Chris Lugo: Nuclear free Tennessee, plus: When a potential business recruit comes to Roane County, does Leslie show them the new Jail?

• Russ McBee: Bernake predicts bank failures, plus a note to Bill Hobbs.

• Sean Braisted: Celebrity endorsements. Plus: Save Bill Hobbs!

• Sharon Cobb: Tennessee medical hero Stan Brock on 60 Minutes tonight, here’s a backgrounder. Plus: Elect Hussein Obama!

• Silence Isn’t Golden: Bigots for McCain, Republicans should show the same support for Tennessee that they do for Israel, natural allies in the fight against discrimination and justice. Bonus: Fulmer for Sheriff!

• Southern Beale: Prison Nation, fun with FISA.

• Tennessee Guerilla Women: Hillary tag teamed on SNL, plus some interesting quotes from Obama re. the Iraq war vote.

• TennViews: TNGOP playing politics with long-term care for seniors , plus TNGOP: There is such a thing as bad publicity, Gutterball, as it unfolded.

• Vibinc: Motivational waterboarding? Seriously, he’s not making this up!

• Whites Creek Journal: Surviving Leap Day, plus: Obama fathered TWO black babies!

• Women’s Health News: Workplace lactation, plus the Nipple Project.

‘Cause we are all in this together.

Homer On Pundits

20 02 2008

Homer and I were talking this morning about pundits while we were watching CNN.
Me: (thinking greedily about getting paid millions to just sit around and talk incessantly about politics, Britney Spears, Gene Simmons’ sex tape and the health benefits of beef jerky. I have lofty goals. Shut up.) “Ahh, the life of a pundit.”

Homer: “How does one become a pundit?”

Me: (dead silence as I pondered this) “Umm, I don’t know.

Homer: “You can’t major in punditry, can you?”

Me: “No. I think you just have to be loud and think you are right no matter what you are saying.”

Homer: “You’d be perfect then.”

Me: (trying to muster up a good case of stinkeye to throw at her) “You’re saying that sarcastically, aren’t you?”

Homer just smiled.

I love my family.

I’d Like To Thank The Academy

20 02 2008
It’s always nice to be recognized for my blathering over here. Missy from The House of Flying Monkeys said some just plum nice words about this silly old blog which I’m quite fond of (you did well going into photography because, dear, you are avoiding a life of being yelled at by cheerleader moms and eating ramen noodles.)
Man, I dig you east Tennessee bloggers. I do.
So, without further ado, I’m supposed to link to 10 bloggers that give me something to think about and whom I think are “excellent.”
Well, let’s dance:
  1.  Enclave: Nobody does local politics as fiercely as M. Byrd does. He is smart and understands hyperlocal blogging (which, campers, is important in this day and age in the innertubes). I highly recommend you visit him and listen to what he has to say.
  2. TheoGeo: I just dig Lindsey’s blog for a variety of reason. When she is snarking it up, she’s at her best. There are times I wish I was as clever as I know she is.
  3. Ablogination: Captain Kona doesn’t mince words. Ever. And his blog is purty.
  4. Left Wing Cracker: Of course. Who doesn’t? He’s a blog hero.
  5. Cup of Joe Powell: You guys know I love my daily dose of Cuppa.
  6. Squirrel Queen: She’s funny and will photochop you up with added extra goodness of squirrels.
  7. Left of the Dial: Frank doesn’t mince words either. And you know, I like it. He makes me long for the days I was in radio news.
  8. Viva La Lesley: I think she’s funny too.
  9. Big Stupid Tommy: Yeah, he always gets pinned by me on these things and it’s his frakking birthday today so go say Hi. He brings on the funny just about better than anyone.
  10. Kathy T.: She’s a blogging maniac and she’s also my friend. I really like reading Where’s The Mute Button and I know she’s going to be around for a long time.
So, there you go.
Of course, I’d like to thank the Academy, who in this case is Missy.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause – Mother Edition

17 02 2008

Homer knows. Squirrel Queen knows. Big Daddy knows.

You see, this month is the anniversary of my mother’s death. It’s significant. We love and we lose.

We do.

And we remember. And if we don’t, shame on us.

She was named after a box of shoes that my grandmother saw on a box in Michigan during WWII. She didn’t have a middle name because my gram thought her name was long enough.

You know, I do this every year, and each year, it gets harder.


It will be a decade. February 28th.

I’m going to get this out of the way. On that day, I will have to drive into the country to stare at the fields and meadows she loved, then go to her grave and lay down flowers. She liked flowers, but maybe, this year, I will play Beethoven or John Coltrane there.

Will that comfort her?

No. It will only comfort me.

So, anyway, I want to tell you the story, one I might not have told, about her. She was a musician and she studied music. She studied theory and how music evolved. She loved Miles Davis better than anyone and thought he was the epitome of progressive transition in music where there wasn’t a blueprint. She loved that. She thought Gil Evans was a genius. She made Homer and I listen to the blues and then Mozart because we may have lived in Hooterville but we were going to know THESE things. We needed to appreciate all music or we would have gotten a hard stare. We needed to be open-minded. And, this wasn’t a request from her.

It was mandatory.

And I thank her.

She loved her kids, she loved her husband and she loved music. As a child, there was always a violin, a bass, a cello lying about the house in Hootervegas although she was a singer and a pianist but the instruments were there because she was always in school.

I have no musical ability. I wonder sometimes if that was disappointing to her. I did other things. She encouraged me. This, of course, is of the good.

She was really beautiful. She was a petite woman that was the unaffected beauty queen of the local town who was more interested in politics than chiffon in 1960 but she was living in a small town and women didn’t do politics as much back then. She hid in the shadows. Not because that those options weren’t there, they were, but it meant a fight with a bunch of societal crap. And it did. Don’t deny it. She opted out but taught us (Homer and I picked it up, Mom, so you did your job well.)

I think she always canceled my dad’s vote out. And she made me watch Watergate and anything she thought might form me. At ten, it drove me crazy. Today, I smile when I write ‘not so much.’

She talked about feminism when it wasn’t even conceived in small rural towns. Did she make mistakes? Yeah. Did she teach me how to be an equal. Don’t even doubt it because I know I am. You know she did.

And she taught Homer and I to think for ourselves.

She was so shy. Painfully shy to the point it took her breath away until she sang on stage or she was at home with her family. Man, this woman could smile and it washed over all of us but she hated being in a group of people which is weird for me because I can hang in a church basement or at a nudist colony. This ability of mine didn’t come from her, I assure you.

Her shyness was her enemy and her largest demon. In the day, it was being shy, now I’m sure there are 20 different clinical names for it.

With that said, she created her life in spite of it all. She sang, won a contest and performed with the Everly Brothers because of it (Mid-South Fair Talent Contest, LWC), met my dad over a hamburger, fell in love and started her journey. She was a bit vain, who isn’t, but remained beautiful and curious and incredibly in tune to the world around her. She kept her hair blonde, because Big Daddy liked it that way. And her eyes were so blue they were deeper than the color of the ocean. I see these eyes in my youngest niece, Chuck, who doesn’t even know. She never met Jacque, how would she know? So I have to tell her and show her pictures. That’s my job.

Jeez, this is always hard.

She was completely confounded by me. I wasn’t traditionally beautiful like she and Homer were. I was different. I was eccentric. And she honed that in me.

You know, she loved me anyway and taught me swagger.

She smelled like sunshine. Dammit if she didn’t.

Homer was the good kid who would whip your ass in five minutes although I think most people think I’m the tough one.

I’m not. It’s Homer.

I was the kid that walked the line but wanted to dive into the deep waves of rebellion and free-spiritedness which didn’t interest Homer but, dammit, it did me. (And it did for my mom because she told me this before she died. It’s an odd thing between us. I never knew that I was her free-spirited one in her eyes.) I wanted to know those depths. And I did, delving into things that probably weren’t good for me but I was ambitious and bright enough to not go too far into the dark although it beckoned me. It was dangerous and sexy and I wanted the passion of it all. She knew this about both of us. And she guided, taught and only stopped me when I went too far.

Sometimes we went too far. We had a safety net.

Her name was Jacqueline. Named after a box of shoes and I find that to be so very compelling and charming.
The night before she died, my friend Mark, who my blogger friends met on Wednesday night in Nashville, came and sat with me in the hospital at midnight that horrible evening. He came. You guys need to know this for reasons I can’t explain. He sat with me as I sat slumped against the ‘dying room’ at the local hospital against the wall in the bright, fluorescent hallway at midnight and he tried to convince me that it wasn’t as bad as I knew it was, and despite it all, I knew in my depths that she was dying.

She was leaving and there wasn’t anything I could do.

And he tried to help.

That, my friends, is why he’s my friend. Even when I disagree with him in public.

And he did my mother’s eulogy in a packed funeral home where all I did was smile at people who apparently needed more comforting that I did, I smiled and I talked of things that were wonderful. I gave a hug and I said it was going to be okay to strangers and friends alike.

I didn’t cry for two weeks. When I did, I didn’t move for three days.

This, my blogger friends, will happen once a year. This is a gift, and curse, I give to myself.

So, I raise my glass to the woman who gave up so much for me.

Allow me a moment… as this is my blog and isn’t this what blogs are for?

I’m allowed that.

The Keg Is Iced …

3 02 2008
The Sunday “fire up a pot of chili and ice down the keg super tailgating” edition of the TennViews weekly liberal blog roundup showcasing the best and brightest bloggers in Tennessee and what they are talking about…

Read the rest of this entry »

The Round-Up

6 01 2008
R. Neal is calling it the corn-fed edition:

• 10,000 Monkeys and a Camera: Almost spot on prediction, and The Kids are Alright

• Andy Axel (at TennViews): The latest unbelievable wingnut spin

• BlountViews: Respect for Dodd and Biden

• The Crone Speaks: Electability over issues, and Voter turnout is the big story

• Enclave: The Obama Edwards dilemma

• Fletch: The Gaussian candidate

• KnoxViews: Down to the wire, and Knoxville News Sentinel has a sense of humor

• Lean Left: Caucus thoughts: A mess for the GOP, a remarkable win for Obama, and The “Not Clinton” problem

• Left of the Dial: Sick babies and loose meat sandwiches

• Left Wing Cracker: So much for Iowa being a Republican state

• NewsComa: Going against the grain, and Bold predictions for the aftermath

• Pesky Fly: Interpreting the tongues, and Fear of success

• Progress Nashville: Status quo: 0, Change: 1, and The young and the restless, plus Two miracles

• Russ McBee: Thoughts on Edwards, bonus: Quote of the day

• Sean Braisted: The awesome power of hope, and The defeat of absolutism

• Sharon Cobb: Iowa votes for change, plus Cause and Kucinich/Nader effect?

• Silence Isn’t Golden: Post Iowa scenarios

• Tennessee Guerilla Women: Only fools are dancing on Hillary’s grave and a Hillary provides baby sitters for caucus goers, right wing whines

• TennViews: Results and observations, and More questions than answers?

• Vibinc (a new addition to the Tennessee liberal blogroll): Snakes on a campaign, and About last night, and Live Blogging the Iowa Caucuses from Drinking Liberally Memphis, bonus: Hilarious predictions

• Whites Creek Journal: What happened

There you go, campers!

I Want My NPR

8 12 2007

So, we’ve been all holiday oriented here at Chez ‘Coma and my liver is not in love with me right now.

Yeah, these things happen. As I sit in all my post-holiday-evening-morning-after-traumatic glory, there are a few things to tell you.

A.)  A new place opened last night so we took in the sights and sounds. The place was packed and I was pleased to see the whole place hopping and it was a bit different from the regular fare of juke joints in Hooterville. Although I must say it’s always disconcerting to be sitting with new and old friends and look up to see the very tall boss come into the place. I said Hi and retreated as we were raising all sorts of hell and you don’t want to do that within eye and earshot of your boss. He didn’t seem to mind. That was of the good.

B.) I met some friends of Cuppa Joe and The Editor last night. In Hooterville. I already knew them but I didn’t know the Cuppa/Editor connection. I was shocked, SHOCKED I tell you. They said Hi. We shared our mutual love for the dynamic duo. We talked about that we don’t have access now to our beloved NPR. It’s been replaced with a Contemporary Christian rock station. Now, I have no problem with Contemporary Christian music, I don’t, BUT I really want my “All Things Considered” back. I can get it on the Mac, but it’s not in the car when I’m bebopping around. Dangit. I’ve found myself singing “I Want My NPR” to the tune of “Money For Nothing.”

C.)  The term “Sex On The City” in regards to Rudolph Guiliani makes me laugh my hiney off for some reason. I guess it just speaks to the 12-year-old within me.

D.) I’ll be honest, I haven’t thought about this woman for years.

And finally, E.)  You can do like I’m doing, Mr. Wage. Your liver will probably hold out better than mine as I’ve got a few years on you.

With that said, I’m going to go and try to find out why I’m hearing the theme song to “Gunsmoke” which is coming from the other room where Squirrel Queen is as it just doesn’t make sense to me. I wish I was making this up.

Because We Love Our Families …

29 11 2007

We torment them.

I give you a video of Squirrel Queen’s mom, who had no idea that I was shooting a video of her at the Thanksgiving Roast Beast celebration.

Listen for her “Heh” at the end.

Yeah, it’s the Turkey Dance.

The woman really has rhythm. Seriously.

A Conversation With A CBS Producer

28 11 2007

It’s one of those stories you tell that makes you laugh and then you wonder about who’s in tune with the blogging world, and who’s not.

Monday, after dragging my cute, yet ample, butt into work, the groovy chicks at work immediately told me to drag my cute, yet ample, butt home. I didn’t argue. I felt like a slug that had been attacked by a five-year-old with a salt shaker.


So, I come home, put on the muumuu and started lying about the house, as I’m wont to do.

I noticed on my blog this comment from a producer from CBS’ Sunday Morning. I was a bit wigged out. Why did they want to talk to me? I’m in Hooterville, for Christ’s sake. I, of course, wondered if it was about meth, my illicit history of being a NSA spy or some Elvis trivia that I might now. (I know more about Porter Wagoner, go figure.)

So, I talked to my friend Scratchy Throat and asked him what he thought. He said “Maybe they think you are a writer for The Late Show.” I was like, cool, no one from CBS has ever wanted to yak at me before, so what the hell and old Scratchy pinned it.

Yeah, I almost had a heart attack. A big ol’ coronary.

So I called the guy and he did think I was a writer on The Late Show because I’ve been writing about it. He said he liked my style. I told him I didn’t write for Letterman but was available in 15 minutes if they were so inclined. In all honesty, I suggested he go to the The Late Show’s writers’ blog if he was looking for some information about it and for contact information. He laughed, we talked about how he came via Hooterville to get information about New York (where he was) on these innertubes and we went on about our day.

He also liked the southern style of my accent. I had my Scarlett O’Hara voice on and had put away the Larry the Cable Guy voice I use in juke joints and at football games.

Yeah, I’m smart that way.

Of course, he just needed some info, but still it was sorta cool.

Two things came to mind from this situation.

One, why aren’t you people hiring me? I’m fantastic. (I keed. I keed. Not really.)

Two, the Internet has made the world much smaller. The story tells itself. People in traditional media are looking throughout the blog world and are finding things of interest in non-traditional ways. This is important.

So, there you go. As I’m still hacking up body parts (this morning’s delicacy was my esophagus), I’m amused about it all.

Steve, if you see this, Hi and thanks.