Lovin Motion.

Lovin Contractor? Also got to dig his neighbor's truck: quality in motion. Hmmm. Couple of songs come to mind.



and this one:

Go, Gators. Really. Go.

Beautiful day for a run. The ranks of the Walterboro Running Club were pretty thin this morning. Just two of us. Wonder what happened to the rest of 'em? We'll start at the cemetery entrance to the Great Swamp Sanctuary.


Just run around the pond, here. Wait. Did someone leave their purse or sumpin' by the swing?


Say, that's no handbag (not yet, anyway). Hmmm. Maybe the other runners just got here a little early. He looks full, so Becky and I ought to be okay.

Twin Peaks.

I stay on the trailing edge of most trends. I was born at the tail end of the Baby Boom. Started running in my forties. Didn't by a c.d. player for years. Stands to reason that I've only just now discovered the Early Nineties t.v. classic, Twin Peaks. My oldest discovered a cool CBS classic t.v. website where you can watch old series for free. Check out this one for Twin Peaks.The show ran for less than two full seasons, but in 1990 through 1991, it was the bomb. I didn't watch it then, but I sure knew about producer David Lynch and actors Kyle McLachlan and Lara Flynn Boyle. Since he's gotten back from school, Davis has spent hours in front of the computer screen, and I can't help but look over his shoulder from time to time. It was a beautifully bizarre show. The camera angles and background props in the show were frequently most unusual, as were the storylines and the dialogue. Guess I'll have to start at the beginning and watch all 30 episodes.

When the Chips are Down.

I love food, and there aren't many things I won't eat; this, however, offended my sense of food morality: Baby Back Rib flavored Potato Chips. I've no quarrel with seasoned potato chips. Salt, vinegar, even dill or pepper are okay. Spices, generally, are dandy. But a whole other kind of food? I'm fairly certain that this combination of food-group fouls violates at least seven Levitican dietary laws. It's wrong, I tell you! 'Course, it may also taste good...

...and now it's back to work.

I had fun this Memorial Day weekend. Sunday night, I hung with my neighbors, John and Traci, and their buds, Mike and Gina.
Though I kept my three drink maximum rule, I still ended up looking and feeling like this chair by evening's end. Maybe the mug had something to do with it.

Scrabble.

Oldest and his girlfriend stopped by this weekend. Got to love kids who'll play Scrabble with you, so we weren't really strict with the rules: "fiatin" and "crun" went unchallenged. Well, they sound like actual words, anyway.

Road Smackdown: The Poll

Last smackdown, Angel Heart ruled the self-seeking movie polls; this time, we've got five selections for the tournament: Roger Miller's "King of the Road", Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again", Thunder Road by Springsteen, Middle of the Road with The Pretenders, and former Fleetwood Mac-ian Lindsey Buckingham's Holiday Road.

In other news, yer basic Coupon King (er, me) saved a whopping $84.65 at Bi-Lo between newspaper coupons and store discounts. Brought the bill down from $268.03 to $187.38, thankyouverymuch.

Road Smackdown: Part 2

You guys came up with some good ones. The first was John's suggestion, Holiday Road (the opening theme to Chevy Chase's "National Lampoon's Vaction", by Lindsey Buckingham:



Col named a bunch of 'em, including Bruce Springsteen's Thunder Road. There are a couple of good live versions of it. This one, from 1976 isn't the best one vocally, but the visual of The Boss is pretty good, and shows how much the crowd digs him:



Another of Col's suggestions is The Door's "Roadhouse Blues" (Roadhouse is not the road, proper, but it's ON the road, so it counts). This video has the Doors and John Lee Hooker:



Chase mentioned Bob Seger's "Get out of Denver". Travel songs are all about the road, but I got to thinking that there are enough good songs about Denver to rate a separate smackdown. Instead, you get another Seger travel song, Turn the Page:



Can't imagine doing a road smackdown without Willie:



I've loved the Pretenders since "Brass in the Pocket". Their "Middle of the Road" is right up my alley:



Col had several other fine nominees, but I think we've got plenty from which to choose. I'll pick four tomorrow. Feel free to lobby for your favs.

Road Smackdown: Part I

Internet friend John suggested a Roger Miller smackdown after yesterday's "King of the Road" post. Now I dig Roger Miller, but for my money "Dang Me" and "Chug-a-Lug" just can't compete with "King of the Road". Still, John was onto something: there are a lot of good "Road" songs. Steve Earle's Copperhead Road is maybe my favorite, but it's not eligible (embedding disabled). "Road to Nowhere" by Talking Heads/David Byrne isn't not too shabby:



Six Days on the Road by Red Sovine has been covered by a bunch of folks, but I like Sawyer Brown's version about the best:



The Eagles know something about the road. They've lived in the fastlane:



Way back in the stone-age, I was jamming to Deep Purple's Highway Star:



That's a few of 'em. Bet you guys can come up with a few, too.

I Ain't Got No Cigarettes.

The Lads frequently hike up to BoBops for candy and Red Bulls. Among their favorite snacks are candy cigarettes. Essentially just sweet chalk, but I used to dig 'em, too. Roger Miller liked the real thing, if he could get 'em.

The Mask.

I saw this cool looking mask whilst I was in the Volunteer State last week. I have Noh idea what it's for or from what culture it was plucked. Didn't dare put it on. I don't need Ipkis problems.

Glory Days.

I was going through a bunch of old stuff yesterday and found this old ad I'd bought in my unsuccessful bid for the Statehouse. When this ad came out, the only thing that the locals cared about was the slit in my (ex)wife's skirt. Apparently it got more votes than it lost, so I guess it was a good mistake. The good news: I won my County against a guy who'd had the support of the political establishment, and I only spent about two grand. The bad news: I lost the election by about one percent of the vote, based on the results in the two other counties that the district included. By the end of the Summer, Tina and I'd separated, but she worked hard on the campaign, and it was a lot of fun.

Puppy Love.

Daughter Caroline got a new puppy. Lulu is a miniature Jack Russell Terrier, and a cutie.





Looks like Vegas Elvis found an amazing diet and the Fountain of Youth here:

Happy Birthday, Lads.

Actually, it was yesterday, but I've been busy. Fourteen is not a particularly significant milestone, but it's a birthday ya gotta do if you want to do fifteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one or any of the others. Happy Birthday, Taylor and Tyler.

Sewanee Roadtrip.

It'd been about a year since we passed this same tank at the VFW in Blackville. The Lads are 'bout as big as the tank this time.

Cool old abandoned home in Barnwell.

The Lads chill at the one park bench in downtown Williston, SC. What a view! Not only can you see both of the town's dollar stores AND the Hardee's, you're also only a stone's throw from the Ford dealership. Nice!

A five mile frolic off of Interstate 20 brought us to Harlem, Georgia, the birthplace of Oliver Hardy, and home to the Laurel and Hardy Museum. We got there in time hang out with a group of touring second graders, and watch a short film of the famous 1920's and 30's era comedians. In one scene, a cat is sent running. One of the kids asked, "You mean they had cats back then?"

We arrived at Sewanee in time for one of many mini-parties. This one was at his residence house.

Davis and his gal.

Davis' sister (and my daughter), Caroline (right), with friend Allie.

Caroline and Allie in front of the DuPont Library. This is how I generally looked in the study carrells at Sewanee.

At the coffee shop I met former classmate and Purple Tiger team-mate Joey Lamonica and his daughter, Katie, who is now a junior at Sewanee.

Here come the graduates. Davis hoists his diploma high.

One of the many beautiful views from the Mountain.

Oh, and here's the Cheetoh.

Graduation, I.

Proud momma.

Oddly, the computer "half" accepted my pictures. The Easy Share folder says there are no pictures, so I can't edit them or view them directly from that file; however, I can pull them up through the blog. Further good news: since I can't view closely or edit the pix, there'll be fewer of 'em, and you might miss the Cheetoh.

Boy in a box with bubbles.

Because I like the picture, is why.

Argh!

On my way to Sewanee for oldest's graduation and back I took lots of photos. A cool old barn in Barnwell. The bench between the two dollar stores and the Hardees in Williston. Gorgeous spring landscapes on Monteagle Mountain and the campus of the University of the South. Cheering new graduates. Moms, siblings and friends of new graduates. A cheetoh shaped like a... well, they weren't all gems. Anyway, the computer ate them. Sewanee hasn't changed since My Last Visit (and the graduation ceremony wasn't that much different from convocation, either). Davis was a double-major (English and Classical Languages (Latin)). Doubt those degrees will make him a ton of money, but at least he can read his diploma.

Liar, Liar/All of Me.

I recently watched three of my favorite comedic actors in movies with pretty similar themes: Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin in 1984's "All of Me" and Jim Carrey in 1997's "Liar, Liar". Martin is attorney Roger Cobb, and Carrey is attorney Fletcher Reede. The movies have so many things in common, that "Liar, Liar" could almost be called a remake of "All of Me". Both Cobb and Reede are unfulfilled in their personal lives, and both are looking to make partner in their powerhouse lawfirms. Shoot, the movies even shared an actor: Chubby-cheeked Jason Bernard appeared in both of them- as blind musician side-kick Tyrone Wattell in All of Me, and as the judge in the courtroom scenes in Liar, Liar. He was pretty good in both of 'em. The biggest connection between the movies- the perception that the best club in any attorney's proverbial golf bag is a disdain for the truth- is thoroughly mined, and undermined, in both movies. Cobb loses his ability to lie in court because Lilly Tomlin's Edwina Cutwater, who is supernaturally co-inhabiting his body, won't let him. Here's part of the courtroom scene from that one (I'm getting ready to go on a roadtrip, and am in a bit of a hurry, so my camera work is pretty bad in both these clips):



Carrey's Reede is also supernaturally prevented from lying in court.



Hmmm. Could Carrey actually be an incarnation of Martin? Just askin'.

I'm leaving this afternoon to travel to Sewanee, TN, to see oldest son graduate. Next week is a term of criminal court. I'll try to check in, but posts could be sporadic for the next week or so.

Ham.

I baked a ham over the weekend. I mashed some potatoes, too. And I ate them.

I remember one day long, long ago, my brother and I made breakfast of green eggs and ham for our ma. She flat wouldn't eat them. She wouldn't even reject them in rhyme.

Ira Hayes.

NetFlix brought me the first of a two-fer of Clint Eastwood directed WWII movies, Flags of Our Fathers, recently. The flag to which the title refers was raised on Mount Suribachi on the brutally contested Pacific Island of Iwo Jima. A picture of the American flag being raised was instantly famous, and gave hope to a war-weary country. The folks that raised the flag were touted as heroes, and the U.S. Government marketed them as such to help sell bonds to pay for the war. But war is Hell, even for heroes, and the pressures of the tour and the images of horrible deaths of their buddies haunted the survivors of Iwo Jima. The most famous of the trio of flag raisers that survived the battle was Ira Hayes. Hayes' most distinguishing feature to people at the time was that he was Native American, not a popular thing to be in America in the 1940's. Hayes ultimately succumbed to alcoholism and died ignominiously face down in the dirt some years later. Good flick. 'Course, Johnny Cash had this pretty well covered many years ago.

The Root of All Evil.

I'm no gardener. My yard, while not necessarily the bane of the neighborhood, is no beacon. Yesterday I got out in the yard to do a bit of yard maintenance, and plant some Zinnias. Weeds are what I'm really good at growing, though. The yard's eat up with 'em. Check out the root on this monster. The weeds ultimately won this battle, as I caked out after a short time, but I got this guy and a few of his buddies first.

Cooking with Gaston.

After a night of fine revelry, I dragged my sorry carcas out to the Great Swamp Sanctuary for a three mile trot with the Gator Chasers. I was not in top form, due to aforemention revelry, but I'd kinda promised a couple of friends I'd be there. They didn't show, but I still looked forward to the comradrie that the running club typically engenders. Then the new guy runs up. "Hey, guys. I just finished a three mile warm up, and I'm ready to rock". There aren't a bunch of runners that are bigger than I am, but this dude was. The dude was chisled, with an easy smile and an assassin's heart (sorry, John, no pix). I wanted to kill him. Sadly, I couldn't catch him, and even if I could, he probably could have caused me grievous bodily harm. The group naturally separates into the first, second, and sometimes third, tiers, but always we stop at the half-way point and chat a minute before we take off again. Not today. Studly Hungwell, there, hardly slowed at the mid-point, and them that could, kept running. In my sorry state I limped on in on my own. Not much fun, this run. If Gaston shows again, I'm whipping out the i-Pod.

Dress for Success, Part 3

It is a sad fact that many people charged with crimes are not too smart. I have commented before that many folks accused of crimes regularly appear in court in apparel that screams "Thug". Baggy pants and "Scarface" shirts galore are short-cuts to long sentences by dudes and dudettes wanting to drag their street cred everywhere they roam. I think I mentioned that one dude wore camouflage to court. Cammo is never a great choice for a formal proceeding, but it was an especially unfortunate one for him, as he was charged with night hunting.

Recently, a fellow appeared at his attorney's office just prior to trial for criminal domestic violence wearing a white sleeveless athletic t-shirt, in common parlance, The Wife Beater (not the fellow at left. That's just a picture from the 'net). This was not the sort of fellow that was close to getting the irony of his clothing selection. He was advised to go home, put on a shirt with sleeves, and return. Dude showed up wearing an "Orange County Choppers" tee. Oh, well, it was an improvement, anyway.