I don't remember how long it's been, but for at least the last 5 years, I've been telling my friends every year, when my birthday rolls around, that "When I turn 40, I'm going to rent an Italian Villa, invite all my friends over and I'm gonna whoop it up big time!" Well, rickum sickum, mile-long line of explitives..... next year is the year. Unbelieveable! For those of you out there that are falling off your chairs in unbelievable shock that I could be turning 40, I feel your pain. I'm kind of feeling some shock about it too. Lord knows I don't look a day over 38.
I've decided in all my years on this earth, I would take a moment and share some insights I've learned as I've gotten older.
1) Crest works. The toothpaste. Been using it since I was a kid. Not one cavity yet.
2) Black underwear is better than white underwear. I shan't explain (and it doesn't have to do with racing stripes!!)
3) More calories in vs. those going out = kaburba. That's a made up word my friend Joseph used to say, meaning "fatty". See my previous post re: muffin tops.
4) Friends make life worth living. xoxo to ya'll!
Maybe when I'm in a more serious mood I'll revisit this post and add lessons learned. Or maybe not. When am I that serious?!
Monday, June 19, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
Bluegrass Mecca
Banjoes and fiddles and gee-tars, oh my! I'm immersing myself into this Southern US culture, a little bit at a time. But I got a HUGE dose last week when my parents were visiting friends in Tennessee from Idaho and talked me into driving up and meeting them. Their purpose of the visit was to drive from Eastern TN to Wilkesboro NC to attend this big bluegrass festival called "MerleFest".
I thought, Merle Haggard? But no, after a little research I learned it was named after Merle Watson. Who?? Maybe all you bluegrass fans out there have heard of this name, but I as a transplant from the west had no clue.
It turns out Merle was the son of a blind bluegrass legend, Doc Watson. At the age of 36, Merle was killed when he rolled the family tractor on a steep hill near their home in western North Carolina. The accident cut short his career as a talented guitar "picker" and muscian. In his honor a year or so later they held a short concert. That tradition has continued and now, nearly 20 years later it's turned into this kind of red-neck, hippie music festival with close to 100 thousand people in attendance. And right there, smack dab in the middle of them was me. I wore a Napa Auto Parts baseball cap and sat in a Nascar fold-up camping chair, just so I fit in.
A few highlights:
The Laura Love Band One song was called something like, "I want you gone". Just when you think she's singing about a boyfriend gone bad, you realize she's singing about George Bush. Gasp! Quite a risky move, considering the audience. The shockwaves through the crowd were palpable. But I think the hippies outnumbered the rednecks so there wasn't a throw down. And then she started making wise cracks about singing at Salt Lake City Gay Pride and how all two attendees at her concert loved her. Ha! I've been to Gay Pride in SLC. There were 10 people there, not 2. =)
John Cowan This guy was actually pretty good. I bought a CD. Damn, I'm expanding my music collection to include bluegrass? What is this world coming to!?
Rush Limbaugh He wasn't there, but his presense was felt. His lawyers reached an agreement with prosecutors in Florida on charges related to misuse of prescription drugs. My father's Tennessee friends, dyed-in-the-wool republicans, were convinced the liberals were gunning for him and were relieved he won't see jail time. And besides, if he did, King George would pardon him anyway, wouldn't he?
Drunk woman with Merlot-stained teeth at Doolies Bar & Grill, Wilkesboro NC We didn't notice her at first, but pretty soon her drunken utterances caught our attention. Sitting alone on a bar stool, stairing into the air above our heads, at least as it seemed, she spoke quite often to...herself? Anyone who would listen? And then she caught the eye of the wife of my father's friend. This happened just as drunk lady barked like a dog or something similarly startling. She staggared toward our table, locking eyes with Tracy and proceeded to apologize for scaring her. This is when I noticed the teeth. Deep purple. Merlot? Perhaps cabernet? Couldn't tell. But the odd thing was the stare-down. Standing only a few feet away, she locked eyes with Tracy. 10, 15 seconds pass, no words, just staring. Then, "I'm sorry if I scared you. I would never hurt anyone..." Staring continues. "I would NEVER hurt anyone." Then her tone darkens, "I've thought about it, but I'd never do it." Enter bartender, stage right. She was escorted back to her glass of vino and we all breathed a sigh of relief that Tracy didn't have to bitch-slap her. Actually, I would have loved to see that, but oh well.
I thought, Merle Haggard? But no, after a little research I learned it was named after Merle Watson. Who?? Maybe all you bluegrass fans out there have heard of this name, but I as a transplant from the west had no clue.
It turns out Merle was the son of a blind bluegrass legend, Doc Watson. At the age of 36, Merle was killed when he rolled the family tractor on a steep hill near their home in western North Carolina. The accident cut short his career as a talented guitar "picker" and muscian. In his honor a year or so later they held a short concert. That tradition has continued and now, nearly 20 years later it's turned into this kind of red-neck, hippie music festival with close to 100 thousand people in attendance. And right there, smack dab in the middle of them was me. I wore a Napa Auto Parts baseball cap and sat in a Nascar fold-up camping chair, just so I fit in.
A few highlights:
The Laura Love Band One song was called something like, "I want you gone". Just when you think she's singing about a boyfriend gone bad, you realize she's singing about George Bush. Gasp! Quite a risky move, considering the audience. The shockwaves through the crowd were palpable. But I think the hippies outnumbered the rednecks so there wasn't a throw down. And then she started making wise cracks about singing at Salt Lake City Gay Pride and how all two attendees at her concert loved her. Ha! I've been to Gay Pride in SLC. There were 10 people there, not 2. =)
John Cowan This guy was actually pretty good. I bought a CD. Damn, I'm expanding my music collection to include bluegrass? What is this world coming to!?
Rush Limbaugh He wasn't there, but his presense was felt. His lawyers reached an agreement with prosecutors in Florida on charges related to misuse of prescription drugs. My father's Tennessee friends, dyed-in-the-wool republicans, were convinced the liberals were gunning for him and were relieved he won't see jail time. And besides, if he did, King George would pardon him anyway, wouldn't he?
Drunk woman with Merlot-stained teeth at Doolies Bar & Grill, Wilkesboro NC We didn't notice her at first, but pretty soon her drunken utterances caught our attention. Sitting alone on a bar stool, stairing into the air above our heads, at least as it seemed, she spoke quite often to...herself? Anyone who would listen? And then she caught the eye of the wife of my father's friend. This happened just as drunk lady barked like a dog or something similarly startling. She staggared toward our table, locking eyes with Tracy and proceeded to apologize for scaring her. This is when I noticed the teeth. Deep purple. Merlot? Perhaps cabernet? Couldn't tell. But the odd thing was the stare-down. Standing only a few feet away, she locked eyes with Tracy. 10, 15 seconds pass, no words, just staring. Then, "I'm sorry if I scared you. I would never hurt anyone..." Staring continues. "I would NEVER hurt anyone." Then her tone darkens, "I've thought about it, but I'd never do it." Enter bartender, stage right. She was escorted back to her glass of vino and we all breathed a sigh of relief that Tracy didn't have to bitch-slap her. Actually, I would have loved to see that, but oh well.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Holy Crap, I'm a Southern Boy Now!!
About a month ago I was digging through some old crap I had in storage as I was preparing to move. A big move. And I had decided that since I was moving, I needed to de-clutter my life, throw out things I had been packing around for years, donate a bunch of un-needed stuff to charity, etc. Well, in the course of this de-cluttering, I came across an old journal my mother had given to me as a Christmas gift when I was a kid.
I opened the journal, smiling from ear to ear reading the first few pages of it, laughing at myself and the things I wrote as a youngster of about 12 or 13. But the funniest part was when I turned to the third or fourth page and it ended, just like that. I think I made about four entries. Then... silence. Blank pages. Fast forward and now I'm 38. Where has my life gone?
I tell this story for one reason in particular. This blog is kind of like a journal. Notice my last entry? Last November? Yeah, when it comes to discipline and writing in a journal or blog, I SUCK! haha
I'm not going to try to make up for months of silence. I'm simply going to say.... I'm a Southern Boy now. I live here. Hotlanta. Here's a picture.
Pretty huh? Now that I've been here all of three weeks, here are my first impressions:
1) Traffic. It's a BITCH!
2) Pollen. When the pollen counts on the news are 1,000+ (and no, that's not a typo), you know you're not in Kansas (or Utah) any more
3) Traffic. Heh.
It's been a good move. I'm excited about the new adventures that are sure to be in my future as I adjust to a new city and a new life. Hopefully I'll have a better track record of updating my blog since I've moved here and won't repeat my horrible past ALA the 9th grade. But then again, I have no excuses now. I know few people and need to entertain myself somehow, right? :-)
I opened the journal, smiling from ear to ear reading the first few pages of it, laughing at myself and the things I wrote as a youngster of about 12 or 13. But the funniest part was when I turned to the third or fourth page and it ended, just like that. I think I made about four entries. Then... silence. Blank pages. Fast forward and now I'm 38. Where has my life gone?
I tell this story for one reason in particular. This blog is kind of like a journal. Notice my last entry? Last November? Yeah, when it comes to discipline and writing in a journal or blog, I SUCK! haha
I'm not going to try to make up for months of silence. I'm simply going to say.... I'm a Southern Boy now. I live here. Hotlanta. Here's a picture.
Pretty huh? Now that I've been here all of three weeks, here are my first impressions:1) Traffic. It's a BITCH!
2) Pollen. When the pollen counts on the news are 1,000+ (and no, that's not a typo), you know you're not in Kansas (or Utah) any more
3) Traffic. Heh.
It's been a good move. I'm excited about the new adventures that are sure to be in my future as I adjust to a new city and a new life. Hopefully I'll have a better track record of updating my blog since I've moved here and won't repeat my horrible past ALA the 9th grade. But then again, I have no excuses now. I know few people and need to entertain myself somehow, right? :-)
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