Music and Suthunaz

When I first came to Nashville, I had to answer one question a lot. "Are you in the industry?" and by "industry" they mean the music industry and more specifically, Country Music. You see, I have a college degree in music. Though my tastes in music at the time didn't include Country, Western or Bluegrass, all people saw was some guy who had a big background in music moving to Music City. So, they'd always ask, "You come here for the Music Industry?" And my answer was always no. They'd all then give me some strange looks especially when I'd say that my music background was more in Art Songs sung in German and if I used the world "Opera" they'd always reply "Oh yeah, the Opry ...we know all about that...."

I'm still not a fan of Country Music, but I can truly understand the way that people are drawn to it. Country music tells the stories of one's life as it might have been, should have been, could have been and might still be. It's like looking at someone else's High School yearbook and noting the similarities as well as the differences and hearing the stories everyone tells.

But Country Music is not just a Suthun thing. It's listened to just about everywhere. Everywhere except my house. My wife listens to Heavy Metal. Screaming guitars, loud vocals - oh and she has every Joe Cocker Album ever produced. Country Music to her is like garlic to a vampire. That's OK, to each his own is my motto. She can listen to whatever she likes. It's a free country and some of the music she plays is also on my playlist.

My tastes are wide open, but I don't listen to music much anymore. It's because of the way in which people listen to music and ascribe 'fandom' to you for the action noting with fervor or derision the choices in your musical selections. The discussions go something like this: Someone turns on the radio and a song comes on. Let's say it's Elvis. It happens to be one of the songs I like, so I turn up the volume just a bit, maybe even sing along with the chorus.

"Oh you like HIM?" someone says.
"No. I like this song."
They respond: "I didn't realize you were a Elvis Fan..."
"I am most assuredly NOT."
And then the argument starts.

Let me make myself perfectly clear: I am not a fan of any particular person or band. I listen to music I like and just because I listen to a song or songs by any one person or writer, group or mainstream entity does not mean I listen to ALL their music or dream of meeting them, getting their autograph or having them over for dinner. Elvis did a couple of good songs - Songs which I like. So did Frank Sinatra. So did Aeorsmith. So did Leonard Cohen. (Who's Leanord Cohen? Look it up.) This enjoyment of a few of their pieces does not make me a fan of ALL music by said performer/writer/group/mainstream entity.

Perhaps this is why, during High School, I did not buy many albums. I could not see buying an entire album just to get the one or maybe two songs which I enjoyed. Still don't. I didn't go to a lot of concerts back then for the same reason. Why sit through a lot of songs I don't enjoy just to hear the ones I do? Why give the band my money to play songs I don't enjoy?

By the same token, being listed as a Country Fan puts one in a similar boat. Being in Country Western Country (say that three times fast) and someone finds me listening to say, Leonard Cohen, (you did look it up, right?) I know I'm going to get those strange looks. Traitorous looks. As if my listening to some other music genre may cause the downfall of western civilization, the city to be overrun with Nawthun Agression (yet again) and the Titans will lose all the games on their schedule. At the very least, it will keep me from being inducted into the Hallowed Halls of Suthun Acceptance. Which, of course brings me full circle in my Suthun Quest.

So, here I hide with my radio and my laptop. Listening to an eclectic mix of music when no one else is around to hear - and judge...especially not my Country-Western Lovin' Suthun Neighbors.

Invention Intervention #2

The Suthunah is the consummate inventor. I'm not talking about new fangled gadgets for your kitchen, or deep space technology. I'm talking every day (and possibly one of a kind) inventions that make at least one person's life easier.

Above is such an example. When faced with the task of shoveling a lot of snow, a lot of folks turn to a snowplow or similar device hooked to the front of their pick-em-up truck. This fine citizen of the south MADE himself a snowplow. Self powered and fits in the back of the car, this little gadget makes quick and easy work of snow. And well it should, as it appears that he's got a full parking lot to plow.

This invention needs a closer look, too. Not covered in duck tape, or held together with spit, baling wire and prayer, this thing is a joy to behold. Beautiful engineering and handiwork, highlighted by a great job of painting. Look at the front wheels, apparently this cuts through deep snow too!

And yes, we do get snow in the South. Not all over the south, but enough to make this invention the pride of the neighborhood.

Beer me another Brewskie Bubba

Beer. Last week you may recall that I mentioned this miracle brew once or twice. To the Suthunah, Beer is more than just a beverage. It has become part of the very fabric of society. Celebrations hinge on its inclusion, but more than that, beer is a part of every day life. On any given day you can sit in the parking lot of any convenience store that sells the golden elixir and count the number of people headed home who stop in for a 12 pack (or 24 pack for those larger families) to stock the fridge. Daily. If it's the weekend, (especially a major sports weekend) this number grows exponentially.

In addition, several dozen 'micro-breweries' have sprung up across the south proving that the South has its own share of quality brew masters.

My brother, Bubba, makes his own beer. I'm not sure if you'd call him a brew-master, but he has been known to fill a few cases of beer each year. His one claim to fame (if you can call it that) is that his beer has been known to explode the bottles while they sit in the cupboard. Personally, I think that this just gives him an excuse to drink more. "Gotta drink these up 'afore they 'splode." (He lives in Colorado, so I don't really know why he talks like that.)

The problem (and the reason for this entire blog today) is that I don't drink beer. Never could get past the taste. Yes, I know there are millions of people who think I'm wrong. Suthunahz from New Orleans to Raleigh enjoy beer on a daily basis and remark to each other how great it is - oh and not only does it taste great, but is it less filling. I'm sure that they all can easily tell the difference between Ale and Lager and Light Beer and Non-Light beer. To me, they all taste the same and it's not good. I end up making that 'beer face' and someone makes fun of me and then there's gunfire..and...well, it's not pretty.

Now don't get me wrong. Every now and then one of my son-in-laws or some neighbor will come over with a case of some dark brew and I'll do the good thing of tipping one back. If their timing is right, and the day is hot enough, that bad bitter beer taste will magically turn into the perfect thing to drink at that very moment. It's days like that where I feel that I might actually be one of the natives.

Welcome to the South. Get me another beer there, Bubba, 'afore they 'splode.

Beer-ventions and Beer-novations...

Beer. Like a pack of Pavlovian Dogs, just the mention of the word 'beer' can get the typical Suthunah to salivate and crave the taste of hops and barley. What we (they) do for beer goes beyond enjoyment and borders on fanatical religion. More than just the typical Beer Hat, or foam Beer Cozy, these inventions boggle the imagination.

Today's Beer-vention and/or Beer-novation is above. This guy is home due most likely to an injury he sustained which keeps him couch ridden. One can clearly see the crutch laying there beside the couch. One can also clearly see the beer (in the proper foam beer cozy) in his right hand with a cooler of backups for when the current can is completed. (Suthuhn note: When drinking beer, one must always have a backup.)

The Suthunah in me smiles at his 'beer-novation'. He's got a bird's-eye view of the neighborhood and can act as crossing guard, neighborhood watch and air traffic controller all from the comfort of his Beer-ca-lounger. I bet he's even got himself a cell phone to call the local constabulary should something untoward occur within his 'beer-view.' His Beer-genuity using a couch rather than a simple recliner also leaves space for his wife, lady friend or BFF (Beer Filtching Friend.) Barring companionship, he's got enough room to take a nap without having to climb down from his perch.

Now, that said, the realist in me wonders at this Beer-vention. If he's injured (and the crutch would tend to support this theory,) he had to have put that couch up on the roof before the injury (or had a few neighborhood Beer-enhanced engineers to assist in the endeavor.) Additionally, he has to have some way to get UP to the roof which doesn't put a lot of strain on his injury. A ladder? Cherry Picker, perhaps?

And finally, we all know that after a few beers, one needs the use of porcelain facilities to 'recycle' the beer in the proper recycling device. I don't see one, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have a 5 gallon jug hiding behind the trusty Beer-ca-lounger.

It is the Beer Mysteries which keep us guessing. Another in a long line of Beer-novations and exciting Beer-ventions created exclusively here in the south.

I'm so proud. I'm a bit verklempt. Yeah...I need a beer.

Don't Bug Me.

I've said it before and I'm saying it again. The South is full of bugs. Spiders, caterpillars, creepy crawlies of all kinds. It's the weather. The extra moisture and heat combine to make bugs grow and grow fast. I've pointed out in previous posts that we've had a lot of problems with bugs in my area especially since the flood. Now I need to take the time to point out what living in the south with my wife (and said bugs) is like.

You see, my wife is Native American. This is not the problem. The problem is that she abhors killing anything that may be beneficial. Like spiders. OK, so let's get it out in the open, I'm one of those guys who hates spiders. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, but to me the only good spider is a dead spider. That whole thing of "They're more scared of you than you are of them" is hogwash. If they're so scared why aren't they screaming like me? Spiders. Shudder.

My wife on the other hand, reveres them. Case in point:

Recently we found this spider (above) out front of our house. It is approximately the size of a small dog. OK, so maybe it's not that large, but as spiders go, this is a big one. At about the same time, we found three (3) more of these around the house. (THREE MORE...I thought for sure they were going to invade, and barricaded myself in the bathtub with a can of Bug Spray.) They are, in fact, Golden Orb Spiders and benign, non venomous, blah blah and blah. I will refrain from any glowing descriptions of webs or beneficial actions other than to say they are big, fast and an evil looking day-glo yellow on black. Yeeesh.

My initial response (other than running and screaming like a little girl): Smash it with a brick. Burn the carcass and put it on a stake as a warning to all the others. And then, spray the entire house to make sure there are no others.

My wife's response: Feed it. That's right, hunt down and catch things to put on the web. Big fat juicy grasshoppers, water bugs, small rodents and stray dogs. (Yes, that's right, I'm joking again, I wouldn't catch rodents...) Toss them in the big web and watch the spider wrap them up to eat later.

Now, I have to admit, with all this attention over the past few weeks, I've grown rather fond of my wife's little 'pets' but then something strange happened. One day, they all just...disappeared. No, they are not hibernating under the leaves nearby, they are not laying around on the ground. They just stopped being there. No evidence, no forwarding address. Now, the screaming little girl in me figures they have gone into the house and are planning to abduct me in the middle of the night. (Cue the bad dreams, cold sweats and aforementioned barricading in the bathtub.)

I cannot find anything on the Internet which says actually where they have gone, it says they just are gone. Dead. My research also says that they die with the first frost and and this is the bad part: leave behind a sac of eggs.

Oh. Joy. Eggs.

If you need me, I'll be hiding in the bathtub with the bug spray.

The Recovery is an Ongoing Thing

Nashville is getting back to its normal self. You remember the flood? Back in May? Every so often, we get new reports of something reopening (The Grand Olde Opry, a Local Target, etc) and we all smile as another piece of our city is back to normal.

One of the interesting sidelights to our recovery was that so many of the buses were damaged. I ride the bus to work and felt this firsthand. The city borrowed many buses from other areas and this kept service from being uninterrupted. Then came this last week.

While waiting in the early morning dark for my bus, up pulls this huge double long sleek (and QUIET) bus. Its nose is reminiscent of the Space Shuttle and the door opens with a quiet whoosh. I half expect to hear the voice of HAL 9000. I would like to have taken a picture but my camera takes lousy pictures in direct sunlight let alone o-dark thirty, so I caught this photo of the bus later in the day as it cruised through the downtown 'Music City Central' bus station. It was so quiet when it pulled up that it was at the bus stop before I knew it.

The lights inside were bright and everyone was smiling. There were no scratches or graffitti and it had that New Bus smell. Not like new car smell, but definitely new bus smell. I like it. No body odor, no onion bratwurst, no leftover spilled coke or (god forbid) urine - or worse. It was heaven.

I welcome these new buses and am glad to see the South returning to it's glory once again. Ride on, Nashville, Ride on!

A side note, 1 week later. The big new bus has been moved to another route. We're back to one of the old busses. It was fun while it lasted.

Invention Intervention - The Lawn Gadget

I receive a lot of flack about southern 'inventions.' I call them inventions but what they really are is a unique use for something. In many regards, this is what is referred to as "forward thinking" where a problem is tackled by means not normally taken.

Take for example the picture above. Sure he could have gone out and spent a lot of money on some sprinkler that does the same thing, but let's face it. Putting this baby together took engineering and manufacturing skills you won't see in New Yawk.

This is one of the real problems I'm starting to have in the South as I get closer and closer to Suthunhood. (Is that a word?) I can't begin to tell you the number of times I've headed into the local hardware store with a problem only to have them tell me that what I want to do can't be done. Yet, with a little thought and a lot of wandering, I can usually find some part to work for what I want to do. Sure the part is meant for something else entirely, but it's that Suthun thinking that takes over in times like these.

This is the true Suthun Inventor at work. Taking some common problem and fixing it with uncommon thought. If only the guys at the hardware store were more 'suthun' like me.

Uh...like I'd like to be considered. One day. Soon. Maybe.