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Birthday Celebration

9 Jun

Tonight, we belated celebrated my youngest nephew’s 15th birthday. It was actually on June 6, which most of the world knows as D-Day. Our family also knows it as B-Day, Bronson’s Day. To honor his day of birth in the blogging world, here is a list of events from the year he was born.

On the big screen:

Titanic made a triumphant return from the depths and dominated the film industry.

– Val Kilmer and Elisabeth Shue starred in The Saint.

– James Stewart passed away.

– Robin Williams won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role in Good Will Hunting.

In the athletic arena:

– the Green Bay Packers defeated the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XXXI.

– Tennessee beat Old Dominion to win the NCAA Women’s Basketball National Championship.

– Mike Tyson bit a piece off of the ear of Evander Holyfield.

– Tiger Woods won the Masters for his first win in a major.

On the boob tube:

The Crocodile Hunter debuted on Animal Planet.

South Park first aired on Comedy Central.

– Jacques Cousteau, famous for marine documentaries, passed away.

The Simpsons passed The Flintstones as the longest running prime-time animated series.

In the music world:

– Elton John re-recorded Candle in the Wind to honor Princess Diana.

– Paul McCartney became Sir Paul McCartney.

– Colonel Tom Parker, the manager of Elvis Presley, passed away.

– The Bee Gees, the Jackson 5 and others were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

For the literate people:

– Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays With Morrie was published.

– Harry Potter looked for the Philosopher’s Stone.

– James Michener, writer of sweeping epics, passed away.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings was removed from the English curriculum in Anne Arundel County, Maryland.

Scientifically:

– the Pathfinder landed on Mars.

– the United States barred federal funding for research on human cloning.

– Deep Blue defeated Gary Kasparov in a chess match, the first time a computer defeated a grand master.

– the domain name Google was registered.

A lot of other stuff happened in 1997. Perhaps, you can list a few in the comments.

Graduation Celebration

1 Jun

Last night, my nephew graduated from high school. Other than the fact that I felt old, it was a time for celebration for a great achievement. I won’t go on and on about his honors and accolades, but I felt the need to celebrate this in the blog world. With that in mind, I decided to find out what was happening in the world during the year he was born – 1994.

In the world of sports:

– the Dallas Cowboys defeated the Buffalo Bills in Super Bowl XXVIII.

– no one won the World Series because a strike cancelled the season.

– George Foreman became boxing’s oldest heavyweight champion.

– Miguel Indurain won one of my favorite events, the Tour de France.

– Dale Earnhardt won the Winston Cup Championship.

On television:

– NBC debuted a couple of new shows called ER and Friends.

– The Game Show Network made its debut.

– O.J. Simpson got in a white Bronco and led police on a slow-speed chase.

Star Trek: The Next Generation ended its successful run.

At the movies:

The Lion King defeated Forrest Gump as the highest grossing film.

Forrest Gump got revenge by running away with the Academy Award for Best Film.

– Telly “Who loves ya, baby?” Savalas passed away.

– Cameron Diaz made her first film appearance in The Mask.

The literary world saw:

– Stephen King publish Insomnia.

– Kenzaburo Oe won the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Musically:

– Bruce Springsteen had a hit with Streets of Philadelphia.

– Justin Bieber was born.

– Kurt Cobain died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

– Cream, Creedance Clearwater Revival, Etta James, the Doors and others were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

On a more serious note:

– Hurricane Gordon killed over 1,000 people.

– USAir Flight 427 crashed into a hillside in Pennsylvania, leading to the longest accident investigation in aviation history.

– Nelson Mandela became president of South Africa.

– Saddam Hussein was president of Iraq.

– Yasser Arafat became president of the Palestinian Authority.

And, that’s the way it was. Congratulations to Weston on his graduation!

Brought to You By the Number 99

26 Apr

The 99th post. Wait a minute. Scratch that. This is not really the 99th post. I have deleted a few along the way that I deemed a little unfair to the subject matter. Despite that small issue, this is the official 99th post of the Surrounded by Imbeciles blog, and I can’t believe that it has gone this far. When I wrote the first post, I couldn’t imagine writing this many. I really couldn’t imagine it as I slogged through the first month with a total of 49 hits. But, here I am a few months later with words on the Internet; people I have met cyberly; and the satisfaction of knowing that I am still typing away.

Reaching 99 deserves a bit of celebration and recognition, and I know the perfect person…vampire…puppet…muppet to tell help out. Without further delay, here is Count von Count and the importance of the number 99 HA! HA! HA! HA!

99 Luftballoons – In 1984, Nena, a German band, recorded this song as a protest of the Cold War. It tells the story of kids who release balloons that are mistaken as weapons by the East Germans, who launch the world into a nuclear war. An English version, “99 Red Balloons” was recorded later. I always liked the German version better even though the only words I understood were balloons and Captain Kirk. Check out the video. It may bring back old memories or introduce you to something new.

99 – The number of Wayne Gretzky, the greatest scorer professional hockey has ever seen. I never knew much about hockey, but I, like everyone else, knew about “The Great One”. I was lucky enough to see Gretzky play against the Nashville Predators during his last year in the league. He did not score a goal that night, but I believe he had five assists (or some crazy number like that).

Agent 99 – I must admit that “Get Smart” was never one of my favorite shows. After school, the local stations always played reruns of old comedies. I liked Gilligan. I had a crush on Marcia. I wanted a pet dragon named Spot and a robot named Robot. But, I hated Maxwell Smart and his slapstick comedy. The only redeeming quality of that show was the hotness of Barbara Feldon as Agent 99. I only wish she would have used her skills to kill Maxwell. Then, it could have been “Get 99”.

January 4, 1999 – One of the great nights of my existence. You know what people say when something great happens. They say that it is the best thing that ever happened – except their wedding day and when they had kids. Well, I’ve never been married and don’t have kids, so I don’t have to tell that lie. Being in the stadium when my team, the University of Tennessee Volunteers, defeated the Florida State University Seminoles to win the first BCS National Championship is one of my top events. I don’t even know how to describe the 23-16 victory.

99 Bottles of Beer – A traditional song that everyone knows, I have no idea where it came from or who first sung it. I just know that when it is over I (A) feel like I have drunk 99 bottles of beer, or (B) wish I had drunk 99 bottles of beer.

99 Years Old – The age of Eddie Albert when he passed away. Don’t know who Eddie Albert is? Well, he most famously played Oliver Wendell Douglas in “Green Acres”, but he had a long and successful career in television and films. I liked him best as Warden Hazen in “The Longest Yard”. That is the original one starring Burt Reynolds and not the dumb one starring Adam Sandler. Why do they keep remaking great films? It’s difficult to improve on greatness.

That’s it for the celebration of 99. There were a few other important items to list, but the Count needs to get back into his coffin in the subway system below Sesame Street. If you have any other 99 ideas, then shoot them my way in the comments.

Iconic Memories

20 Apr

I don’t know how many of you are sports fan, but I am one. Well actually, I am a University of Tennessee fan and follow them in just about every sport as one of those sidewalk alumni that has no other connection to the school. My dad brainwashed me at an early age, and I will remain that way from now on.

We Tennessee fans faced a tough prospect today as Pat Summitt, the legendary women’s basketball coach, officially announced her retirement due to the effects of Alzheimer’s, a disease that has in some way affected most of the people reading this. That doesn’t make Pat Summitt different from anyone else who has faced this dreaded disease, but the memories that she has given Tennessee fans does. This isn’t a tribute to her career or legacy. Those have been written by people more qualified than me. This post is about the memories that her time as coach has given me.

The first time I remember seeing the Lady Vols play was when my dad took me to a men’s game. Back then, one ticket could get you into a double-header with the women playing before the men. That was in the early 1980s, but it would not remain that way for long. Eventually, the Lady Vols would play their own schedule with their own tickets. On top of that, their attendance would surpass that of the men’s team.

I saw them play other games through the years. Regular season games in Knoxville. A few regular season games at Vanderbilt. Some SEC tournament games in Chattanooga and Nashville. However, the most memorable game was during the 1998 NCAA Tournament. The Lady Vols came in undefeated and considered one of the great teams of all time, but they were playing a tough North Carolina team to go to the Final Four. With the game taking place at Vanderbilt, I was able to get tickets on the front row for this battle royale, and the following took place.

I sat down with my friend Larry and awaited the start of the game. Then, a blue-haired lady sat next to us. She was obviously a Vanderbilt fan and cringed when she saw the gym fill with people wearing orange. (Sidenote: Vandy and UT fans do not get along.) She looked at my friend and said:

Blue-Haired Lady: How did you get these seats?

My Friend Larry: My buddy got them from a member of the Vanderbilt Board of Trust.

BHL: Who? I’ll have to talk to him.

Then, the governor, wearing a UT cap, walked in front of us.

BHL: Look at the governor wearing that orange hat. I only voted for him because Lamar (Alexander, former governor and current senator) told me to. I won’t do it again.

That’s when I yelled, “Hey, governor!” A typical politician, he acted like he knew me.

BHL: Look at that son of a bitch.

This is when Lamar walks in .

MFL: Ma’am, there’s Lamar. Looks like he’s wearing an orange tie.

BHL: (Grumble) I’m not voting for him again, either.

The game starts, and UT is in trouble. They aren’t playing well, and North Carolina is taking advantage. The blue-haired lady is shaking her North Carolina shaker in Larry’s face and knew that the Lady Vols were going to lose. That’s when Pat jumped the officials and got a questionable call to help turn the game around. As the North Carolina people boo, Larry looks at me and says, “You get those kinds of calls at home.”

BHL: (Growls) I tell you one thing sonny boy. This is not your home.

MFL: (Laughing) Well ma’am, our side of the scoreboard says home.

BHL: You’ll never get seats down here again.

Pat and her ladies won the game and finished the season undefeated, but victories were not always part of the formula. The first time I remember watching the Lady Vols on television was in 1984. My dad and I watched the University of Southern California and the great Cheryl Miller beat Tennessee in the national championship game. It was a time when people believed that Pat Summitt could not win the big game. She finally won a national championship in 1987. Then, she won in 1989. And 1991. And 1996. And 1997. And 1998. And 2007. And 2008. It turns out that she could win the big game. Together, my dad and I watched them all.

People have written about Pat Summitt’s legacy and contributions in numerous areas of sports and society. For me, her legacy is all of the great memories she gave to people like me, my dad, my friends and other Tennessee fans. The tragedy is that a point will come when Pat Summitt, the person responsible for all of this, will not be able to remember what she did and the joy she brought to so many.

Brought to You By the Number 1,000

12 Mar

Over the weekend, the “Surrounded by Imbeciles” world hit another historic milestone – 1,000 page views. It took a while, but four figures was finally hit. As has been done with past milestones, I will mark the occasion with a celebration of the number 1,000. To assist in this endeavor, I will bring in my old friend, Count von Count.

Me: Count, make the introduction.

Count: Without further adieu, I present to you the number 1,000 HA HA HA HA!

1,000 Meters – the length of the course for women’s Olympic rowing events. For us non-metric Americans, this equals .6 miles.

1,000 AD – Hungary was established as a Christian state; Leif Ericson became the first European to land in North America; the Aztec migrate to Tenochtitlan, which will become one of the world’s largest cities; Oslo, Norway is supposedly founded; gunpowder is invented in China; and Abu Rayhan al-Biruni publishes The Book of Healing.

$1,000 Bill – With Grover Cleveland depicted on the front, this bill, along with other large denominations, was taken out of circulation in 1969. It is estimated that 165,372 remain in private hands. One of the largest collections can be seen at the Birdcage Theater in Tombstone, Arizona (the same Tombstone that saw the Gunfight at the OK Corral).

1,000 Meere – Performed by Tokio Hotel, this song is about long distance love and the struggles that come along with it.

1,00o Places to See Before You Die – The travelogue with the cool title has become a popular phenomenon. I haven’t read the book, but I have skimmed the Table of Contents to see how many of the places I have been. I have a long way to go with the world version but have taken a good chunk out of the American one.

Land of a Thousand Dances – Written and first recorded by Chris Kenner, the song busted out when it was recorded by Wilson Pickett. Despite the title, the original version mentions sixteen dances, including the Pony, the Chicken, the Tango and the Popeye.

Thousand Island Dressing – I have to admit that this is my favorite. I can eat this stuff on anything. Stories of its creation vary, but most believe it is named for the number of islands between the United States and Canada in the St. Lawrence River. It can include a lot of ingredients but always has mayonnaise.

A Thousand Faces – Ok, this is a little publicity for a cool store in Nashville. Located in Hillsboro Village, one of my favorite areas, it is filled with different kinds of art and, as the website says, “a plethora of neat stuff”.

1,000 BC – The world’s population is estimated to be 50,000,000; the Assyrians began an era of expansion; ancient Iranians first enter Persia; and Priene, in western Turkey, is founded.

So goes my ode to the number 1,000. I am sure there are more interesting facts out there, but I must admit that finding them was tougher than I first imagined. Next time, I am going to have to put Count von Count to better use.

Terror on the Plateau

8 Mar

I recently wrote about my battle with the forces of nature while supporting my favorite basketball team. That event took place in 2008, but another event just as terrifying took place the next season.

In January 2009, I headed out with my friends, Jeff and McDonald, to watch the University of Tennessee play basketball against South Carolina. Being a night game, we got a late start and knew that we would have a late night return. We didn’t realize that we would be lucky to get home at all.

After a victory by the home team, we walked out of the arena and into a night that was damp but not cold, the type of night that we had driven through many times. Jeff, who was driving, hit Interstate 40 while we listened to the post game show on the radio. We were all hungry but decided to drive until the show was over. Having done this many times, all of us knew that this would get us to the Rockwood exit and a Ruby Tuesday’s.

We had a great meal before driving off into the night. As we walked out of the restaurant, it was impossible to ignore the fine mist falling from the sky, and I, without realizing it, made a fateful decision. I told McDonald that I would sacrifice and sit in the cramped backseat.

Traffic was heavy as we drove westward toward home, and the mist continued. It was a tricky drive, but something was happening outside that we didn’t realize. Between Nashville and Knoxville sits a geographic formation called the Cumberland Plateau that is higher in elevation that the two cities on either end of it. The higher we climbed, the colder it was getting. The fine mist was turning to black ice on the road.

The first sign of trouble was a pickup and a trailer that began swerving in front of us. We thought he just didn’t know how to pull a U-Haul and passed him. That’s when Jeff realized that we were on ice, and the vehicle was out of his control. For me, the next few seconds went into a mental slow motion. We were sliding along with other cars, and Jeff was trying to steer toward the guard rail to get us stopped. The mist was coming down, and fog had descended. That’s when the headlights hit something that no one could ever suspect. A wall was sitting across the road. Not a real wall, but an over turned tractor-trailer lying in our path.

Idiotically, I was not wearing a seatbelt and knew that I was in trouble. Without thinking, I laid down in the backseat and closed my eyes. From the back of my mind came the idea that I needed to stay limber. Maybe I heard it while watching a NASCAR race. Whatever the reason, I forced myself to stay loose on impact.

After that, I heard Jeff say, “I believe we’re gonna hit her, boys!” McDonald replied, “No shit!” Then, there was impact, and my head hit the back of the seat. Almost instantaneously, another vehicle, the one pulling the trailer, hit us. We sat stunned until someone from the outside yelled, “I smell gasoline!” The doors would not open, so we crawled out the smashed back window; climbed over the other truck; and, jumped over the guard rail.

I had the foresight to grab my cellphone as we escaped the carnage and called my parents when I knew that we were out of harm’s way. As I told them the story, I could hear crashes in the distance. Before it was over, we were car number one in a forty car pileup.

However, the night was just beginning. Jeff’s face smashed into the steering wheel, and he was losing blood and teeth at an alarming rate. McDonald couldn’t climb over the guard rail because his arm was broken. Luckily, I only had a scratch on my forehead. Immediately, people started scrambling. A woman was trapped in her car and under the truck. The TV announcer for the game was in the wreck as well. Truckers were climbing out of their cabs and trying to help. The air was getting colder by the minute, and the road was getting slicker. Now, we jokingly call it “Terror on the Plateau”, but it wasn’t funny that night.

I got Jeff into the cab of a truck for warmth and called his wife. I also called our friend Larry and asked him to call McDonald’s wife. That’s when I got a call from a friend caught in the traffic. He asked, “Are you caught up in this wreck?” I replied, “We are the wreck.” He sat in one spot until daylight.

After 1 1/2 hours, the ambulances began to show up. They were behind because seven other wrecks happened at the same time, and they couldn’t make it up the incline to us. It was too frozen. We finally got Jeff into an ambulance, and I waited for another one with McDonald. When it arrived, I stormed my way into it because it was the only ride I had into town. McDonald asked the paramedic if his arm was broke. The paramedic answered, “I don’t know, but it’s deformed.” That made us laugh for the first time in a while.

They checked us at the emergency room in Crossville while we waited for Larry, who had decided to head our way, to pick us up. He had a heck of a time too, as the interstate was closed coming from the west as well. When he arrived, I was sitting in a chair. McDonald had his arm in a sling. Jeff was sitting in a wheelchair and looking like Rocky Balboa after his first fight with Apollo Creed.

We were all nervous on the way home but finally made it at 6 in the morning.

After several operations, Jeff is back to normal, except for some false teeth. McDonald’s arm healed but only after he missed a season of senior softball. I was sore for a while but had no injuries. We have been to many basketball and football games since, and the terror of that night is slowly fading away. However, we still talk about that night as we go down the interstate, and I always look at the spot where the truck created a wall across the road. The spot where we lived several hours in our own disaster movie.

On Top of the Tornado

3 Mar

Storms swept across Tennessee today and left some destruction in their wake. Tornado warnings and watches were all over as the map turned green, orange and red. Thankfully, not much happened around my house, but it reminded me of a time that I found myself on top of the tornado. This tornado to be specific:

In 2008, my girlfriend of the time and I traveled to Atlanta for the Southeastern Conference basketball tournament. We hit the afternoon session to see my favorite team, the University of Tennessee, win a close game. As it ended, fans from all of the teams filed out of the Georgia Dome in anticipation of the night session and more excitement to come. However, we had other plans. Dinner reservations at the restaurant on top of our hotel, the kind that slowly turns so patrons can get a panoramic view of the city. After dinner and a few drinks, we would hit the lobby bar before turning in. As we got dressed and prepared for the evening, we could not anticipate what was really going to happen.

As we left the room, she asked if we should take our phones, and I said no because we weren’t even leaving the building. We took the special elevator to the top and exited into a crowded restaurant with people laughing and dishes clanking. With a little time to wait for a table, we found a seat, ordered some drinks and watched the sky light up in the distance. Lightning was everywhere, but it was miles away. At no point did anyone think that it would have an effect on us. Then, it happened. I noticed a strange haze outside and suddenly saw a large piece of something fly by. I immediately grabbed my girlfriend’s arm and said let’s go. Why?

I could only say one word. Tornado.

As we moved it hit the hotel. Diners screamed and began to panic. Chandeliers swayed, hitting the ceiling with each swing. The building was swaying as well. Not a good feeling when you are 73 stories high.

People immediately began running down the stairs thinking that they could beat the fall if the building collapsed. There was no way I was getting trampled in that stampede, so we stayed behind and rode the elevator down with the restaurant staff. By then, the tornado had passed and the electricity had not gone out. It was the slowest elevator ride ever because we really didn’t know if we would make it all the way down. Luckily, we did, and, when the doors opened, we found a lobby turned into a refugee camp. People who had been on the street came straggling in covered with water, dirt, debris and with haggard looks on their faces. It was a disaster movie come to life.

As people continued to pour in, we learned what happened after the tornado hit. It traveled down the street, wreaking havoc along the way, and hit the Georgia Dome where a basketball game was being played. Fans and players scrambled as the roof was ripped apart and pieces fell on top of them. I realized that my dad would have been watching the game and seen the carnage. I didn’t have a phone and was banned from going to the upper floors. Knowing that my parents were home worrying, I could kick myself for leaving my phone behind, but I got lucky again. Sitting on the floor across from me was a man from my hometown. I used his phone to call home, and my parents relayed what they were seeing on television. It was hell outside, and we were lucky to be alive.

After several hours, we were allowed to go to our room and got there at the same time as the people next to us. When they opened the door, they stood with shocked looks on their faces. Like moths to a flame, we followed them in and saw their entire window blown out. We were standing in an open room 40 stories in the air. Lucky once more, our room was untouched.

We left the next day and, for the first time, realized what we had found ourselves in. Debris was piled on all of the streets, and demolition workers had cleared a path on one street to get people to the interstate. It was like driving through an apocalyptic landscape, and we were scared. The shock and adrenaline had worn off, and reality set in. We came close to death and never realized it.

Lucky has been used a lot in this post, but that is an understatement. It’s been four years, and I still don’t have adequate words to describe it.

Brought to You By the Number 50

26 Jan

The “Surrounded by Imbeciles” world hit a milestone yesterday with its 50th post. With that in mind, this installment is dedicated to the number 50 HA HA HA HA!

I never realized until this moment that his name is Count von Count.

50/50 – The chance that I would reach 50 posts when this blogging experiment began.

50 First Dates – Adam Sandler + Drew Barrymore + Groundhog Day = 50 million dead brain cells. Also, when was the last time you saw something about Hawaii without the Israel Kamakawiwo’ole version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” included on the soundtrack. Great song but don’t overdo it.

50 States – Do you know why it’s an even number? Because they had to bring states in two at a time before the Civil War to make sure that the number of free states and slave states was equal.

Hawaii 5-0 – Are you Team Jack Lord or Team Alex O’Loughlin? Honestly, I have never seen an episode of either incarnation. The opening is cool, but I could never get past it.

50 Ways to Leave Your Lover – Actually Paul, there are countless ways to leave your lover, but 50 makes a good round number for a song title. When I was a kid, I could sing the parts like “slip out the back, Jack” and “make a new plan, Stan”. However, as an adult my favorite line is the first – “The problem is all inside your head”, she said to me. Truer words have never been sung. Just ask my ex-girlfriends.

50 Cent – Is he a good rapper? I have no idea. However, he hooked up with Chelsea Handler, so I have to include him for that accomplishment.

50 Hard-Boiled Eggs – “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.” One of the great lines in movie history. What does that have to do with eggs? Cool Hand Luke ate 50 hard-boiled eggs to win a bet. Later, the speech was given while he lay crumpled in a ditch.

50 Bonus Points – There is nothing (well, there may be a few things) better than using all of the letters in Scrabble and getting the bonus points.

50 Steals – Ty Cobb stole home a record 50 times. He did that while beating up a man with no hands; investing in Coca-Cola; being a racist; and, spending his days being an all around prick. They claim that he covered for his mother when she shot his father by accident. She was with her lover at the time. Not sure that’s a good enough excuse for a lifetime of degeneration.

1950 – A year of great events. “Peanuts” debuted in American newspapers. Victoria Principal, the hot wife on “Dallas”, was born. “All the King’s Men”, a fictionalized account of Huey Long, won the Academy Award for Best Picture. The game show “Truth or Consequences” debuted. A New Mexico town was later renamed in the show’s honor.

There you have it. A short homage to the number 50 HA HA HA HA

The Smell of Cape Jasmine

23 Jan

As a historian, I have never been interested in studying the past of my region, the South. I have heard about the Civil War and other aspects of its history all of my life and never really wanted to go behind the scenes of the stories and anecdotes of my childhood. However, this does not mean that I have turned my back on the South. As written in other posts, I have traveled throughout the United States, but I have never considered living anywhere but here. It is my home and everything that is associated with that word. Family. Friends. Familiarity. The “Three F’s” I suppose. I study the West, but I am a child of the South. But, like many others, I am not sure what it means to be a southerner.

Does it mean that I should be ashamed of a heritage of slavery and rebellion? Or, does it mean that I should be proud of a heritage of southern Founding Fathers like Washington and Jefferson? Does it mean that I should be proud of being raised in the Bible Belt? Or, does it mean I should be ashamed to be a native of a region that still argues over teaching the theory of evolution? Before answering those questions, I should explain what being a southerner is all about (at least for me).

It is eating black eyes peas and hog jaw on New Year’s Day for good luck.

It is going to college football games on Saturday’s in the fall.

It is visiting family on Sunday afternoon.

It is watching “Smokey and the Bandit” and realizing that you know a sheriff just like that.

It is going for a ride on a country road.

It is pulling over to pay respects to a passing funeral procession.

It is saying hello to a stranger that you pass on a sidewalk.

It is having a meal of fried chicken and turnip greens.

It is going to the National Walking Horse Celebration and wondering why the federal government won’t leave them alone.

It is being baptized when you are eleven years old because that’s what you are supposed to do.

It is wishing that people in other parts of the country would understand that you are not stupid because you talk differently.

It is thinking that people in New England talk funny.

It is being proud that Blues, Country, Rock ‘n Roll, Southern Rock, Bluegrass, Gospel and just about every other genre of music came from the South.

It is knowing that not all southerners would make this same list because we all don’t fit into the southern stereotype.

Notice that the list does not include driving a pickup truck; hunting or fishing; flying a rebel flag; drinking beer in a field; being a racist; having no teeth or shoes; or handling snakes in church. Of course, there are people who fit those descriptions. Just like there are people all over the country that fit those descriptions (except for maybe the snake handling). I am proud to be from the South and accept its good and bad qualities, but I have never known how to explain that pride. Maybe this post has done it. If not, then I will finish by writing about a song that I have always liked. It is country (which is strange for me), but I feel a connection to it. I will try to explain why.

“Good Ole Boys Like Me” by Don Williams

When I was a kid, Uncle Remus he put me to bed

With a picture of Stonewall Jackson above my head.

Then daddy came in to kiss his little man

With gin on his breath and a Bible in his hand.

He talked about honor and things I should know.

Then, he’d stagger a little as he went out the door.

(Uncle Remus is a collection of stories that were passed down from the days of slavery. They are mostly fables and tales that teach lessons. However, they are racist in the way they present Uncle Remus, a docile African-American man. Disney made a movie based on the stories which has faced a racist backlash as time has passed. I never heard these stories when I was a kid, but I was told plenty of stories along the same lines, namely the story of Little Black Sambo. Despite this experience, I did not grow up to be a racist or a member of the Klan.)

(Stonewall Jackson was a Civil War hero for the confederacy. While most southerners did not have pictures of Civil War officers hanging in their houses, this line aims at the importance many southerners still place on that terrible time in our history. Southerners have tended to forget what the war was about and focus on the fact that the South lost. For generations, this created a sense of inferiority. Of course, the economic conditions didn’t help. I once read an article with the theory that the debacle of the Vietnam War did not affect the South as it did other parts of the nation because the South already knew how it felt not to win.)

(My dad does not drink, but he is very religious. He has been a deacon in the church and complains about why I don’t go. However, this line hits home because I still call him “daddy”. I saw George Carlin (my favorite comedian of all time) in concert, and he made fun of grown southern men using this word. It may be dumb, but we still do it. It is not a childish act but an act of respect. The gin and Bible part is very southern because both play an important role in southern society. Honor is also an important part of southern ideology and society. Heck, that was one of the arguments for the Civil War – the north was challenging southern honor. There is a reason that dueling was legal in the South longer that it was anywhere else. And, it is still important in the South. It isn’t polite to air your dirty laundry in public.)

I can still hear the soft southern winds in the live oak trees.

And those Williams boys, they still mean a lot to me –

Hank and Tennessee.

I guess we’re all gonna be what we’re gonna be.

So, what do you do with good ole boys like me?

(Live oak does not mean that the tree is not dead. This is an iconic tree throughout the South and is the state tree of Georgia. Any picture of an old plantation has live oak’s in it. There is a reason that Twelve Oaks is one of the plantations in “Gone With the Wind”. While this may be a natural symbol of the region, it actually has a varied geography – mountains, river bottoms, swamps, hills.)

(The Williams boys shows the variety that the South has offered to American culture. Hank Williams was a legend in the world of country music and a songwriting genius. Tragically, he drank to excess and died in his 20s, but his music continues to inspire musicians and singers. One of the great writers of the 20th Century, Tennessee Williams provided us with plays and literary works that delve into the psyche and soul. “The Glass Menagerie”. “A Streetcar Named Desire”. “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”. The list goes on and on. The South may have produced rednecks, but it also produced artistic geniuses. These are but two.)

And nothing makes a sound in the night like the wind does.

But you ain’t afraid if you’re washed in the blood like I was.

The smell of cape jasmine through the window screen.

John R. and the Wolfman kept me company

By the light of the radio by my bed

With Thomas Wolfe whispering in my head.

(The wind is blowing now, and it is one of my favorite sounds. However, that is not a southern thing. Being washed in the blood is. Baptism is a rite of passage in this part of the world. It is something that everyone I know was expected to go through. Each denomination has a different way of doing things, but most have similarities. At the end of the church service, the preacher asks for those who want to accept Christ to come to the front. If you feel the spirit, then you go to the front. Once the singing stops, the preachers announces to the congregation that you have made a decision to join the church and asks them to affirm it. At some point, you are baptized. In my church, this meant a full immersion under water. There you go – afterlife insurance. I joined at 11. My dad joined at 5. Neither one of us knew what we were doing, but we were saved nonetheless.)

(Cape Jasmine is a white flower known for its fragrance. It is called Cape because people thought it came from the Cape of Good Hope. It actually originated in Asia. There are all sorts of flowers and plants throughout the South due to the warm climate. Some, such as the Cape Jasmine, have brought beauty and an air of social standing. Lots of flower clubs exist around here for the uppity women of the South. This is probably left over from the days of plantations that fancied themselves as cousins of British aristocracy. Other plants, like cotton and tobacco have brought fortune but also infamy.)

(John R. and the Wolfman are my favorite names in this song. John R. was a Nashville legend as lead disc jockey on WLAC-AM, a clear channel station that reached 28 states. He played rhythm and blues and introduced southern African-American performers to listeners throughout his range. John R. became so popular with African-American audiences that they thought he was African-American as well. Wolfman Jack was a more famous disc jockey and gained this fame on the most powerful signal in North America, XERF-AM out of Ciudad Acuna, Mexico.)

(Thomas Wolfe, from Asheville, North Carolina, was a great southern novelist. I believe he is referenced in this song for his 1940 work, “You Can’t Go Home Again”. Once you have grown and left your surroundings, you can never go by to that “idyllic” lifestyle again. I put idyllic in quotations because once we look back we realize that it was never as good as we imagined. People often talk of the good old days, but they were never that good. Southerners, especially of the white variety, may think times were simpler then, but were they really? Segregation. No air conditioning. Many without electricity. Few well-paying jobs to be found. A great distance between the wealthy and the non-wealthy, both white and black. We can go home again physically, but we can never return intellectually and emotionally.)

When I was a kid I ran with a kid down the street,

And I watched him burn himself up on bourbon and speed.

But, I was smarter than most, and I could choose.

Learned to talk like the man on the six o’clock news.

When I was eighteen lord, I hit the road,

But it really doesn’t matter how far I go.

(Much of this song is more appropriate for the experiences of generations before mine. However, this part remains true to today. Several of the people I grew up with and played with as a child have become town drunks that waste their time in the bars a beer joints around town. I realize this happens all over the world, but I know that they never had aspirations of becoming the “town drunk”. Unlike the song, I didn’t leave. I found opportunity in the area and went with it. That makes me lucky. But, it makes me sad to see people with the same opportunity go down another path.)

So, what was this post? I am not sure myself. It is a defense of a region and a critique of the same region. Maybe it’s like family. I can talk about them all day long, but I’ll defend them if someone else says the same. That’s what being from the South is like. We can talk about each other and realize that we have issues. But, other people had better not join the discussion. Now that I think about it, that’s probably what the people who seceded from the country thought too.

The post is also an excuse to analyze one of my favorite songs (even though it’s country). So, if you made it this far I hope that you learned something. I learned that some questions don’t have answers. So, what do you do with good ole boys like me?

Kindling – Part 2

21 Jan

Yesterday, I decided to filter through my Kindle archive and blog about the works I found in there. You can skim that posting to discover my motivation behind this action and to read about some of the books hibernating in the archive. Unfortunately, the post took me too close to the morning hours, and I had to set my computer aside. This post covers the rest of the stories (to paraphrase Paul Harvey).

1. “End Game: Bobby Fischer’s Remarkable Rise and Fall – from America’s Brightest Prodigy to the Edge of Madness” by Frank Brady – When I was a kid, I was fascinated by Bobby Fischer. However, it wasn’t the chess. It was the fact that he disappeared. For some reason, I liked the people who fell off the face of the earth, such as Fischer and Howard Hughes. I started this book hoping that it would shed some light on that part of his life. To my dismay, it skimmed over the “mystery” because there was none. People knew where he was. He didn’t disappear. He just stopped playing chess. Despite that disappointment, this is an interesting journey into a mind that is slowly going mad. At the end, I thought I was crazy.

2. “Holy Blood, Holy Grail” by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh and Henry Lincoln – Who doesn’t like a good conspiracy? And this is the king daddy of them all. Get that – king daddy…Jesus had a kid. Yeah, kinda corny I suppose. Anyway, this is the book that inspired “The Da Vinci Code”. The writers delve into all sorts of history to come up with the theory of a holy bloodline that continues to flow. It is terribly written and terribly researched. But, that isn’t the point. If you don’t believe man landed on the moon and believe the world is going to end on December 21, 2012, then this is the book for you. I love conspiracies, so I loved the read.

3. “The Hunger Games” and “Mockingjay” by Suzanne Collins – I read the physical version of the other book. I reckon that grown men shouldn’t be reading YA novels about young girls. However, this young girl kicks ass. Almost everybody knows about this series, so I won’t go into a big explanation. It’s super cool, and I hope the movies are super cooler.

4. “Robopocalypse” by Daniel Wilson – It’s been done more than once. “I, Robot”. “Maximum Overdrive”. Machines come to life and take over the world. We seem to fear a takeover by the things that we believe we control. Machines and animals in particular. However, this is a great book that takes us around the world as survivors try to fight back. Despite their struggle, I can’t help but like the machine that is controlling the entire process. It accomplished where numerous humans have failed. It conquered the world.

5. “World War Z” by Max Brooks – Zombies are misunderstood. When did voodoo get taken out of the zombie story and disease take its place? Of all the zombie books, this one is my favorite because it reads like a real history. Interviews such as this have been done by real researchers talking to real veterans, and the stories are similar to reality. Well, except for the enemy that just won’t die. I can’t say enough about this book. It spans the globe and traces the history of a war that seemed impossible to win. It is becoming a movie, but I can’t see how they can fit this into a two-hour time slot. It will be interesting to watch, but I think the movie in my mind will have to suffice.

6. “When Pride Still Mattered: A Life of Vince Lombardi” by David Maraniss – In history, we tend to view the participants as two-dimensional beings. Good or bad. Hero or villain. Strong or weak. As the years pass, their humanity turns into statues of stone or metal. Vince Lombardi provides the perfect example. He is a winner – the greatest football coach ever. The Super Bowl trophy is named after him. This biography goes past the images and words of NFL Films to show a man who had fears, doubts and problems at home. He was a great coach but a terrible father. He was a saint but a tyrant. In short, he was human.

There you have it. That cleans out my digital archive. As it turns out, this was a lot easier than loading boxes with hundreds of pounds of books. Now, I just have to start reading the long list of books that I haven’t gotten to yet.