SpongeBob, We Hardly Knew Ye(llow).

I've had an eventful Thanksgiving week. I travelled a lot. I started the morning in Panama City, FLA. I'll do a Florida Roadtrip post later, but figure I'll start at the end this time. I travelled, like, 1200 miles in mostly awful weather, but wrecked just about a mile from the exit to my old house in Ridgeland, SC. I was going a little under the posted 70 m.p.h. limit on that stretch of I-95, when I hydroplaned, tried to correct, and started spinning. As I went into the spin, it occured to me that I might die- or not- that I'd probably be pretty banged up, and that I had no control at all in any event. Oddly, I wasn't at all afraid. When I discovered my attempts to steer were pointless, I shut my eyes and held onto the wheel. I careened off the road, into a ditch and into some little trees.A loud bang sounded, and the airbags deployed. Other than a slightly sore knee, I wasn't damaged. My car, the SpongeBob Mobile, didn't fare so well. The Fire and Rescue guys told me that that stretch of road claims a fair number of cars, and that most convertibles flip there. I called my best friend, Cathy, who came and got me and brought me the other half hour or so on to the Boro. The professionals on the scene were wonderful. I shout-out to them all.





You may know that I find God where other folks see coincidences. No doubt to me here.I spent a lot of years in Ridgeland. Some good, some bad. I managed to run a business quite unsuccessfully there. I made mistakes. Didn't treat everyone as well as I should have done. I suppose I thought could leave Ridgeland behind me after my Exodus to the Boro. I was wrong. There are some fine people in Ridgeland. I've mentioned the Old Testament story of Jonah before. He couldn't outrun his destiny or God or himself. None of us can. Though he ultimately did what he was asked to do, Jonah remained bitter to the end. I hope I can do better.

Happy Thanksgiving!

On my way with my brother, the Amazing Ultra Runner AndyMan, to Uncle Bob and Aunt Maggie's for Thanksgiving, we wheeled into a gas station and saw what the owner told us was the world's longest Ford F150 Racing Limo. Who am I to argue? There's A-Man in front of it. I asked the dude if his patrons occasionally spilled their drinks. Apparently. Hope your Thanksgiving's good.

The Circle of Life.

My microwave recently went the way of all microwaves. Brought to an untimely demise by the Lads' younger friend from next door.
Fortunately, the microwave is not the only means by which food is (re)heated in the Manor: I recently acquired a new oven/stove from Sears. Ain't she a beaut? Got a good deal, too. One oven dies, another oven appears. The circle of life.

Nap Kin.

My ex was wrong: napping is good for productivity. See? There's the proof right there. It's also good for stress relief.
Dagwood, Andy Capp, we salute you.

My Favorite Cartoon this Week.

For years, whenever someone has told me that they, or someone they know, is going to have a baby, I've told them I could never have a baby because I get full after about half a baby. Well, last Christmas I got a book called "Cream of the Crap" of rejected New Yorker Magazine cartoons, which included the cartoon at left. Ultramarathoner, Denverite, and blogger extraordinare Chase Squires recently posted about a baby shower he attended, which made me dredge up the cartoon. Sick, huh?

The week that was: Introspection.

My dad was a "physicians relations representative" for Blue-Cross/Blue-Shield. I asked him what they do, and he said he "called on doctors". I'm still not sure what that means. He took me to his office once, and the job looked awfully dull to me, but he certainly wasn't a dull guy. Not even kind of. My dad told me more than once that you ought to love what you do for a living. He'd say that he loved what he did and he said he was good at it. While I have tough days and tough cases and, sometimes, tough clients; I love my job and I'm good at it.

I have gone through stretches in my span where I've not doubted that, as boxer Rocky Marciano said, "somebody out there likes me". As generally suspicious as I am of people's motives- all people including, especially, the "good" people and folks that are vocal in any religion or denomination- I have gone through stretches where coincidences didn't seem like coincidences and that life wasn't always random. I've mentioned before that I've felt like my prayers were heard and, on the rare occasion, even answered. I'm sure God has a sense of humor (You don't think God can use sarcasm? Check out the end of Jonah, then get back with me), and looking at the little stuff you've got a better chance to see God sometimes, than in the big stuff. Kinda like Jim Carrey parting his soup in "Bruce Almighty". Anyway, on a short, slow run today, I was contemplating my trial, my job, my place in the universe and all, and jamming to random songs on my i-Pod. As I'm limping in to the finish of a two mile saunter, I'm buffeted by Van Halen and AC/DC, and I'm thinking a little Paul Simon would sound good. I've got a quarter mile to go, about enough time for one song, and I actually asked for Paul Simon. Out of the 551 songs currently on my i-Pod, this is the song that comes on:



Right now, I got to go to Beaufort to see my baby girl. I'll talk about the trial later.

All in a Week's Work: Acquittal Smackdown

First of all, congratulations to Garbage, whose "I'm Only Happy When it Rains" made a splash, and (rain)dropped the competition in the last Smackdown. Guess we'll follow up with an acquittal smackdown. After four days of trial on eleven indictments, including two for murder, the jury returned a verdict of not guilty for my client. I'll give a better report tomorrow, but, frankly, I'm exhausted. Anyway, here are the nominees:

First, the Beatles' "Not Guilty":



Next, some gangsta rock-rap. I wanted to use Jay-Z, but embedding was disabled. These thugs'll do:



I'm an unapologetic Harry Potter geek, so when I saw Snape tracks set to Billy Joel's "An Innocent Man", well, I couldn't resist.



The next one was inspired by my baby brother. I've mentioned before, the Boy's got game. Many moons ago, while AndyMan was a student at Auburn University, legend had it that his girlfriend had some delusion that he'd been macking with her best friend. She claimed, the legend went, that she'd actually caught them in the act. Not sure whether that actually happened, but I know that the phrase, "I don't know what you THOUGHT you saw" became popular at the Loveliest Village on the Plains around the that time. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that SpongeBob (and Shaggy) borrowed this one from AndyMan:



Oh, and Colin Raye probably borrowed this one from Andy as well:



More, later. Remember: Vote Early and Often.

Been Busy, Too.

I'm in court again this week, so my posts and responses may be sporatic.

Camp and Jerry Clower.

Jerry Clower was a good old Southern storyteller. He was generally called a comedian, but that's not really accurate; he told stories in his Yazoo City, Mississippi way, and they sounded funny, but mostly they wouldn't be funny if anybody else had told them. I hadn't thought about Jerry Clower in quite awhile. His "heyday" was in the 1970's, and my buddy Russ played some tapes of him for me. What's the camp connection, you say?

In the Summer between my Sophomore and Junior years in college, I was a camp counsellor at Alpine Camp for Boys in Mentone, Alabama. I'd worked the previous Summer in an environment of faithful, caring Christians, and I'd actually prayed that I might be given another opportunity to work around loving people. Within a week of that prayer, a fellow football player, Woody Ledbetter (actual name. Woody also tried to teach me to play guitar and apparently still holds the long jump record at Sewanee. Hey, how 'bout that, my old fraternity brother, Herb Sparks, still holds the record for the hammer throw!), told me that about Alpine Camp for Boys, and that, for the first time in years, they had a shortage of counsellors, and would I like to work there? Sure seemed like an answer to my prayer. I still believe it was. Anyway, I digress. While at ACB, one of my campers was from Yazoo City, MS. I noted that Jerry Clower was also from Yazoo City. "I know. My dad is his friend and we see him all the time". "Sure you do", I said. Anyway, a few weeks after the end of camp, I got the autographed picture posted above. Jerry evidently liked his chainsaw story enough to put a chainsaw in his picture, so I guess that's the one I'll post:

White Wedding.

I went to a wedding last night. The former Ms. Jeremy Horry and current Jason Langford got married at St. Helena's Episcopal Church in Beaufort. The Horrys (the "H" is silent) are among my favorite people on the planet. We attended the same church in Ridgeland and served on the Vestry together (the wedding was in Beaufort because Holy Trinity wasn't big enough), and Jeremy was one of my favorite students when I taught Sunday school. The ceremony was your basic Episcopal Eucharist wedding. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, and the way they looked at each other made you want to believe that marriage can work. The reception was nice. Lots of good food and wine (cash bar if you wanted stronger stuff). I really enjoy life in the Boro, but there are people in Ridgeland that I miss; many of them were at the wedding and reception, and it was really good to see them.

I forgot to bring my camera, so I'll have to commemorate Jeremy and Jason's wedding some other way. Maybe a couple of videos. Hmmm. Let's go way back to 1969 and the Fifth Dimension for the first one:



Not all weddings are created equal. Shoot, from the title, you probably already figured out the next one:



I guess that'll do. Anyway, congratulations Jeremy and Jason. Thanks for letting us believe, one more time, that love is possible.

Old School, Too.

My babymamma was evidently cleaning out her attic last weekend, and stumbled upon a folder full of some of my old stuff, which she kindly delivered to me along with the Lads. What's this? Ah, a diploma from Alphonso P. Leto Comprehensive High School. Class of '78? Damn, that is Old School.
Phi Alpha Delta legal fraternity historian. To paraphrase Sarah Palin, I'm not sure what a legal fraternity historian does. Must not've been a very good one.
Pass the Loving Cup Around, n'or pass a Brother by, we all drink from the same canteen, at Beta Theta Pi... See if you can find where's Waldo. The Lads were impressed; thought their old man musta been a playa. Er, not so much boys. I think I went on three dates in three years there. Now, your Uncle Andy, that was a playa back in the day. I transferred to Florida State shortly thereafter and my fortunes changed a bit (but I still never approached AndyMan levels). Well, it's nice to have the artifacts, anyway.

Brawlin' Brothers, Maimin' Monks?

I read in Monday's paper about sects among the brothers (that pun's for John) who were pummeling each other for the glory of God. This is probably not a good thing, I thought. "Peace be with you... wait... Say, you're one of them Orthodox monks, ain't cha? Yeah, well your pater wears funny hats. Now, put up your dukes!" In peace loving 'Merica, we're all over that. Shoot, our sports teams are chock-a-block full of religious mascots: in baseball we've got the Padres; in the National Football League, the Saints. The disconnect between violence in football and the "turn the other cheek" mandate of The Good Book has never been more dramatic than in the Athletic Coast Conference and my favorite oxymoronic mascot: the Wake Forest Demon Deacons. Kill 'em! Kill 'em and pray for their souls!

Rain Smackdown: The Poll

First of all, congratulations to Manheim Steamroller, whose version of Monster Mash scared off the other contestants, edging Bobby "Boris" Pickett and the horrifying Mike Tyson. Now, on the the present. There are lots of rain songs out there, and there may be a forecast for more rain on down the line, but this time these are the contestants: Karen Carpenter's "Rainy Days and Mondays"; Creedence Clearwater Rivival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?"; The Temptations' "I Wish It Would Rain"; B.J. Thomas' "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head"; and "I'm Only Happy When it Rains" by Garbage. Last time you could only vote for one; this time you can vote for as many as you want.

Rain Smackdown, Part 4: Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head

There are just too many good rain songs for a single smackdown. Tam mentioned a cool anti-war rain song by Melanie. Sunny mentioned several others, including Gary Allen's "Songs About Rain" and a couple by Bob Dylan. How are you gonna keep Bob Dylan out of the mix? Well, it's a little late in this particular game to get into all of them, so we'll just call this smackdown "Rain Smackdown, One", and I'll post a second rain smackdown sometime in the future. Anyway, Tam mentioned "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head". Nice song. The clip from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a nice little tribute to Paul Newman, too:



I'll post the poll tomorrow.

Rain Mini-Smackdown, Part 3: Soul Men

Y'all have come up with some good Rain Smackdown nominees. Unfortunately, some of owners of some of the rights of some of the songs aren't keen on letting their babies visit blogs via embedding. "Purple Rain" by Prince and "Rain" by Oran "Juice" Jones are a couple of examples. But fear not, there are other soulful rain songs out there. Oran and Prince got nothing on The Temptations:



The Temptations could dance and sing, old school. John suggested Milli Vanilli. No doubt, they could dance, too; though the folks actually doing the singing weren't pretty enough to make it to video- a proud tradition adopted by Black Box and the Beijing Olympic Committee:



Guess we'll do one more nominee or set of nominees tomorrow, then we'll let the Smackdown commence.

Rain Smackdown: I'm Only Happy When It Rains

I used to think Garbage owed a smidge too much to the Pretenders and Chrissie Hynde to take seriously. I used to think that. Actually, they were pretty good. Kate suggested this song, and it's a good one:

Rain Mini-Smackdown: Have You Ever Seen the Rain

At Star's suggestion, I was hunting Credence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" and noted that there are actually a number of artists who liked this song well enough to cover it. First, the original:



Next, The Ramones:



Next, early R.E.M. (who knew Michael Stipe once had hair?):



Rod Stewart does a pretty good version of this classic, but embedding was disabled. Hmmm. Where can a getting a scratchy-voiced blonde to do this song? Ah, yes! Bonnie Tyler oughta do:



Hey, Joan Jett loves it, too:



Saw a "Beatle-esque" version of this by the Jeevas that I rather enjoyed:



In the end, it'll probably be CCR that makes the cut, but if there are two or three comments about another of these versions, well, who am I to argue?

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down.

According to a study cited in a Yahoo News article, autism correlates positively with rainy climates. Guess that shouldn't be a huge surprise: Bad weather certainly seems to breed negative introspection. There've been songs about it: Hamilton, Joe Frank and Reynolds, I think, gave us "Here Comes that Rainy Day Feeling Again" way back in the 1960's (or was it the early '70s?), and even though I'm generally a Rock and Roll dude, Karen Carpenter's "Rainy Days and Mondays" has stuck with me, lo these many years.



The Monster Smackdown is winding down. Tell you what, if y'all want a rain smackdown, send in the suggestions. If not, why I'll move along to something else.

God Bless John McCain.

A lot of moments from tonight's election will stick with me. The early returns projecting winners, while listing vote tallies of zero percent. Even better: one had three votes listed; Two for Obama, and one for McCain. Later when it became clear that Obama was going to win comfortably, watching the folks at CNN finding stuff to talk about. But the best images were after California polls closed and Obama was declared the winner. The shouts of joy in Chicago. Tears rolling down Jesse Jackson's face. Anything now seemed possible. Cindy McCain didn't look gracious. John might be sleeping on the couch, but John McCain's speech was gracious, healing, and seemed more genuine than I would have imagined. I didn't vote for McCain, but I never doubted he loved his Country- our Country. Tonight, by calling for unity and healing, he proved it.

Vote. Today.

Cotton-Eyed Bugs.

I couldn't just leave that last one up there. Couldn't do it. Rednex has a cool version of Cotten-Eyed Joe, colored by Bugs Bunny clips. Now that's the stuff.

Beyond Horrible.

Tradegy is an over-used word, but apt to described what happened Halloween night in Sumter, South Carolina. Two children, 9 and 12 years old, and their father were shot- the twelve year-old shot to death- while Trick-or-Treating on Friday night. The Charleston Post and Courier newspaper report provides that the alleged shooter had at least one previous Possession with Intent to Distribute drug conviction. The twelve year-old was big and, of course, wearing a mask. Probably the shooter thought someone was coming to rob him of his drugs or, if he was a dealer, his drug money; but he didn't even open the door.

Spam!

I needed lunchmeat. I had a coupon. I got some Spam. Wonder what that'd be in Latin? Anyway, I've been on sort of a Spam jag for the last week or so since got 75 cents off on three tins of it. This spiced porcine product has been the subject of much mockery over the years- thanks in large part, I'd bet, to a comedy sketch by a certain English troupe in the 1970's. It's good, though. Brown two slices for a few minutes on each side and plop between a couple of slices of bread, and you've got lunch.

Monty Python's done pretty well with Spam, too. Spam is still with us, and, with their play "Spamalot", so are Monty Python. Anyway, here's the vintage spam skit: