Going to be Busy, Two

You've seen the picture of Colleton County's courthouse before; you've heard the excuse for not posting before: Got court. Gonna be busy. News at Eleven.

Cross Training.

Got General Sessions criminal court for the next two weeks. They're supposed to be picking on somebody else next week, so I might find some time to post, but I can't be sure. I've also got stuff going on this weekend. S'posed to run 10 miles tomorrow morning, then limp over to the Church for weekend festivities. "Episcopal revival" sounds like an oxymoron, but then again, I'm pretty oxymoronic. Reminds me of a car I saw in Beaufort one weekend. Based on his bumperstickers, it was obvious that the dude had two main interests: distance running, and his Christian faith. Bunch of stickers advertizing both. A baseball cap by the dude's rear window contained a slogan apparently mixing the two, but it came off just sounding... wrong. Hat had the phrase "Running for Jesus". I saw it and thought, "I didn't know there was a vacancy". I wondered why anyone would want the job, anyhow. All the loaves and fishes you want, but, well, they kill you just a few years into it.

Signs, 8

Is she a hairdresser? Or merely a psychopath? Only her clients know for sure.

The Nine.

Okay, I'm reading this book. It's about the Supreme Court. It's pretty good. That's not what this is about, though. It's the number of miles I ran today. Boo-yah!

Roadtrip: West Ashley

GF, Diane, and I toured the outskirts of Charleston on Saturday. Garden supplies and errands that exceeded the limits of the Boro's ability to accommodate us.

I've boldly proclaimed in the past, that I do not recycle. Well, the times, they have a-changed. Witness: Dave, the recycler.













Diane attempts to tell the folks at the Salon the secret to her beauty.

















No, the Chippendales don't work here; it's a sporting goods store.









Mary, from Kenya, and Nicole sell Diane 32 patio stones. I mentioned to Mary that many world-class runners are from Kenya. She was aware of that.





Josh helped load the 32 patio blocks Diane had procured into her SUV, Ike. After that, we headed back to the Boro ('cept Josh, who probably stayed in Charleston).

Time to Get a Gun.

I saw Fred Eaglesmith at the Wings and Strings music festival outside of Tampa with my brother, the Amazing AndyMan, a few years ago. I've been thinking about Fred Eaglesmith lately, mostly because of his song, Time to Get a Gun. I've been thinking of that song lately because there are many, many shootings in my county: Colleton County, S.C. People shooting each other. People shooting at each other. People shooting at houses. People shooting at cars. People shooting from houses. People shooting from cars. A local resident was complaining on Tuesday that from his house he heard 13 gunshots on Monday night, and that his wife heard another ten. Twenty-three gunshots. His neighborhood is a good one, complete with subdivision covenants, and with neighbors that check up on each other. The shots apparently came from just outside of the subdivision, only about a block away. The resident has strong ties with law enforcement, and called them immediately. Still, the shots rang out over the course of about 30 minutes. He was understandably more than a bit bothered. And he was on his guard. Like many, many residents of Colleton County, he has guns, too. It never came down to it, but if it had, I don't have the slightest doubt that he'd've used the shotgun he pulled out. Oh, yeah. This guy lives just down the street from my GF. Diane just figured the pops she heard were fireworks.

2009: a GPS Odyssey

Just got back from Bonnie Raitt/Taj Mahal in Atlanta. T'was a fun, though too brief, trip. Didn't get any pix of the show, because cameras were verboten, but it was really good. I may post something on it tomorrow. Or not. Anyway, we were assisted in our journey by Diane's GPS, "Maggie". Bossy gal, Maggie, but she got us out of Atlanta okay. Are computers running the show? Stanley Kubrik opined as much in 2001: A Space Odyssey lo, those many years ago. What? You don't remember Hal 9000 bumping off some of the space crew before Dave finally pulls the plug on Hal? Here's a not totally accurate refresher:

One Flu Over the Cukoo's Nest.

I do not endure illness well. It's been said that if men had to endure the pain of childbirth, there would be precious few children. I know it's been said, because I've said it. There are exceptions, of course: Masochistic ultra-marathon runners such as the Amazing AndyMan and his cohort, Chase, seek pain and eat it like peanut MnM's (Star, as both a woman and an ultra-runner, you probably don't even understand the concept of pain. You may want to look it up. I'd recommend Wikipedia). In any event, a cold/flu has kept me bed-bound these last few days, and kept me from running. Now, wait. I really am sick. Want proof? Daughter Caroline brought over a plate of steak and crabmeat au gratin Saturday she'd gotten at her momma's, and it sits untouched in the refrigerator. I haven't run, but I've lost five pounds since Friday. Got to be well today, though. I've got tickets to Bonnie Raitt and Taj Mahal tonight in Atlanta.

These are the Fries that Never End...

Or not.

Folked Up Art.

The South Carolina Artisans Center is one of the cool places in little Walterboro. The slogan contained on the I-95 billboard depicted at left created quite a stir among some of the more reserved types in the Boro. I think it's quite catchy, myself.

Damn, Sister, I don't know if I'd've told that...

Maybe if she hadn't had such a dour look on her face, her proximity to the sign on the conveyor belt wouldn't've got my attention. Timing, they say, is everything.

Six Days on the Road, Part 2

It's late Summer, and those of you who grew up watching three channels of t.v. know what that means: reruns. Okay, though I ran Sawyer Brown's "Six Days on the Road" a month or so ago, this this isn't technically a rerun. This time it's Graham Parsons and the Flying Burrito Brothers. Anyway, I like the song and felt like posting it again. K?

Signs, Part 7

I guess this one means "beware of dude with pow-banner pistol". Man, these road signs are so specific! What are the odds?







Oh. Good thing they posted it.

Odd Names, Part 1

Or, as her friends call her "Burnt Orange".

Road to Nowhere.

I took off Saturday afternoon to head to Beaufort, where my Lads now reside at their mom's, to watch them knock around the other kids in their first football practice of of the season in full pads. Normally I take the back roads, but I thought I'd take the Interstate this time, 'cause I felt like driving fast. It turns out that I miscalculated a smidge.
Argh! Looks like there must be some sorta wreck. The traffic was at a dead stop South-bound on I-95. Maybe I can find something to amuse myself.

Let's see. What is there to read? Damn! Wish I'd've thought of that.

(Warning! The next paragraph contains offensive material. If crude stuff offends you, just skip to the paragraph after next).

At least I brought along some snacks. These are Brazil nuts, but that's not what they used to call them in the South when I was growing up there in the 1960's (if you don't already know, I ain't tellin' ya, neither. South Carolina's got enough problems without my help).

I'm on my way back to the Boro. See ya, suckas.

I already posted David Byrne's version of Road to Nowhere. If you've been paying attention, you know I could use a good editor; well, here's several:

R.I.P. John Hughes.

Director John Hughes died. He directed a couple of my favorite movies of the 80's, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and The Breakfast Club. A few of my buddies in law school and I used to cut our contracts class about once a week to get grouper sandwiches and listen to jazz at the Hurricane Lounge at one of the beaches not far from Stetson Law School. I suppose this is either the cause or result of my preference for criminal trial practice over office practice. We called our group "The Lunch Club" in homage to the gustatorily entitled Hughes film, and, while Ferris didn't make his entrance until my exit from school, our getaways were very much in the Bueller style. As the master said, "Life comes at you pretty fast. If don't stop and look around once and awhile, you could miss it".

D and D

Funny, smart, purdy, goofy and a really, really good cook. She's also Episcopalian with moderate political views. My GF is off in Meechigan visiting family. I miss her already.

Well, I said I'd do it, is why.

Just weighed in at 227. Not as svelte as I figured I'd be just four months before the Kiawah Marathon; however I said I'd sign up, so I did. I was joshing around with the guys and gals from the Walterboro Running Club on Saturday, and someone mentioned that sign-ups for Kiawah were upon us. I cavalierly mentioned that I might attempt the half, when Michael- ever the stickler for detail (as I guess you'd expect from a pharmacist)- pointed out that a few months earlier I'd been shooting my mouth off about a full 26.2 mile jaunt. Whatevs, Michael. Whatevs.

Green Day = KISS plus fun.

KISS used to be the gold standard in boffo arena concerts (I hear they're still pretty damn good). Fire. Lights. Smoke. Loud, loud noises. I saw KISS at Lakeland Civic Center back in the late 70's, and they delivered. Got to tell you, though, Green Day has got all the bells and whistles that KISS had, plus a few more. Fire? There were flame balls galore. Light show? What? You kidding me? Flood lights, spot lights, red, green, blue lights. Loud, loud noises? Two days later, my ears are still ringing. Oddly, I'm not sure how that makes me feel. I went to KISS back in the day for the show; but I actually like Green Day's music. I'm not complaining. The music was still good, and these cats do a great job of entertaining the crowd. In addition to the old KISS stuff, add the following: Shower of sparks, confetti, call and response (Aaaay-O!), a toilet paper shooter and a T-Shirt cannon.

The Kaiser Chiefs opened the show with a pretty good half-hour set that included their signature song, Ruby (unlike the apparently more self-assured Green Day, Kaiser Chiefs videos are generally embedding disabled). Not bad, but not what the people came to see.

Green Day kicked off their 21st Century Breakdown show with the title song from that c.d. They performed about half the songs from that c.d., including Static Age, and crowd-pleasers Know Your Enemy and 21 Guns, and a rousing and Christian-baiting version of East Jesus Nowhere, a bit of which from another show follows:



Green Day are not lazy, that is a fact. They cranked out the tunes and the effort for almost three hours. In addition to songs from 21st Century Breakdown (sadly- for me, anyway- one of the few songs from the new album they didn't play was my favorite, Peacemaker. Ah, well, you can't have everything in this world), they played, among other songs, Holiday and Boulevard of Broken Dreams from American Idiot, Longview from Dookie, Brain Stew from Insomniac, Welcome to Paradise from Kerplunk/Dookie. Billie Joe and company know that entertainment is better if the audience is involved. Call and response episodes were frequent and appreciated. Many of us shouted "Yeah, Yeah!" at the appropriate spot when they broke into the Animal House/Isley Brothers classic "Shout". Audience members were hailed to the stage to lead the singing on Longview. They closed out the set with American Eulogy from the new album, but came back quickly for an encore which began with the title tune from American Idiot and included Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) from Nimrod, and Minority from Warning. Here is a link to some photos from the Atlanta show from Green Day's official Website.

This is a clip showing some of the previously mentioned toys. It is from a different show, but similar to our Atlanta experience:



We all had a good time, and, in the end, we were all pretty tired.

Roadtrip: Duluth, GA- Green Day

Green Day or Bust. The Boro to Duluth, Georgia, just North of Atlanta: I-95 to I-26 to I-385 t0 I-85. You gotta know there were fast-food stops. The Lads and their friend, Rhett, striking a pose outside of one of those stops, drawing a "tut-tut" from other Arby's denizens.




The view from our second floor Hampton Inn room was spectacular, as you can see. Well, we're on our way to the show.



A proselytizer gets hold of Rhett and Taylor. The Green Day crowd was probably a tough crowd for him, but he didn't seem to mind.




Rhett and the Lads outside of Green Day's touring bus. A concert rep also took a picture of them beside the bus, which was among the pictures looped on the Jumbo-Tron in the arena. The Lads aren't but fourteen and are already a couple of minutes into the fifteen minutes of fame that Andy Warhol promised everybody thirty or so years ago.



No cameras at the Gwinnette Center Arena? Guess that's it for concert pix. Guess you can check youTube or Green Day's website for concert pix. It was very entertaining. I'll review it tomorrow, if anybody requests it.



This is what I saw outside my window most of the way back.




This is what I saw inside of it.