Please Help - Don't Give.

I love this picture. This guy is at least honest. I took this picture myself right outside of downtown Nashville as I was headed home one day. You see Nashville has an inordinate amount of homeless. Which begs the obvious question: Why?

Suthunaz are generous people - to a fault. This in and of itself causes problems here in the south. First, you have the great weather. Ok, so it gets cold and it gets hot, but the mean temperature for Nashville is better on average than a lot of Mid South cities. Then, you get the fact that there is a high number of churches here. Many of the larger churches have 'giving' programs of their own. In fact, there are so many of them that a homeless person in Nashville can eat six - yes, that's right, SIX (6) times a day! That's over 50 group style meals in the Nashville area each and ever week. Not to mention a plethora of other state, city and private sector agencies who are more than happy to help.

The only problems come when some 'non-suthun' homeless get the idea that they can get even more from the locals. So we get a lot of "Hey, got a dollar?" (Why, yes, I do, because I have a JOB!) Ok, so I don't tend to get belligerent - usually - but it can be problematic especially when we're trying like heck to get tourists back after the flood. (You remember the flood, right? Was in all the papers...)

So, anyway, the downtown partnership of Nashville has come up with a nifty saying to keep the locals from feeding this indigenous group of homeless..."Please Help - Don't give!" Neat, huh? In order to help the situation, they are asking the locals not to give money to the homeless. They can get help in many agencies, so they really shouldn't need handouts.

I find it almost humorous that in order to help, my local suthunaz are being exhorted NOT to help. The south just gets more and more interesting.

Learn more by clicking the nifty sign below:

When the Spit hits the Fan.

I’m at a point where I truly believe that when you move to the south, something in the water or the food or perhaps even something in the very air we breathe causes the average male Suthunah to have more saliva than they need. Unfortunately, I am also under the belief that this excess saliva (aka ‘spit’) may be poisonous or at the very least detrimental to the well being of a good ol' boy and therefore cannot be swallowed. This , in turn, causes them to want to get rid of the excess saliva (et al) in a most disgusting public manner. This can be seen in the very fact that Suthun men constantly spit excess saliva onto the roadways, sidewalks and god knows what else on a daily basis along with tobacco juice, gum, and all manner of non edible items which they’ve carefully and completely chewed into a sopping mess.

The well documented Southern Moment includes not one but two instances of excess saliva (et al) being expectorated onto the roadways, albeit accompanied by a generous and somewhat disgusting gob of tobacco juice. I say it was tobacco juice, as I am not really sure. I only know it was nearly black, had the consistency of lumpy gravy and is still out there sitting in the middle of the road to this very day.

Let us refer to this as the Surplus Spit Syndrome (SSS) or when the expectoration includes unidentifiable matter, Expectorated Stuff Syndrome (ESS). I’ve found gobs of this ESS/SSS on the sidewalks in front of the symphony hall, government offices and entertainment complexes. There is no real pattern nor understanding to its occurrence. It is the fact that they feel somewhat justified in getting rid of this spit/junk/unidentifiable-gob whenever the feeling overtakes them that causes those of us with human sensibilities to become rather disgusted.

Dr. Bubba J. Johnson of the Fictitious Information Bureau (FIB) suggests that this can be likened to the animals in the wild who feel the need to ‘mark’ their territory. “The Southern man feels the need to somehow identify that he has been to a particular location.” Explains Dr. Johnson. “Unable to mark the spot in the way of his ancestors, he is forced to expectorate saliva, regardless of the matter contained in his mouth at the time. The more they do this, the more the body is compelled to create more [spit].”

So, ok, that makes more sense. Driven back to one’s ancestry, the wild animals, the southern man is only doing what comes naturally. This may also explain a lot of other behavior that the Southern Man does when NOT in public. But, for the moment, let’s leave that for another time. Now, if I can just get my spit to not dribble on my shirt dickey, I'll be doing a lot better.

Ingenuity, thy name is Suthun...

This car is fun to look at for two reasons. First and foremost, it's located in a Walmart Parking lot. Walmart is the mecca of of the South, and usually populated by such a wide cross section of the populace that it may be worthy of study some day. There are websites dedicated to the sightings of strange creatures and stories of same all from your local Walmart (the World's largest Retailer.)

Second, the owner of this car has made some well thought out and administered modifications to his car. Take a close look. THat wood piece on the back, at first looks like your basic air foil, designed to keep the car from flying off into space (never mind that whole gravity thing).

Looking closer, you can see actual thought processes at work. 1) the Air Foil is placed against the back of the car and not on the trunk, allowing that the weight of said wood air foil would make opening the trunk more difficult than it already is. But more importantly, 2) the air foil is a DUAL ACTION Air Foil. It's low and flat and can therefore be used for TAILGATING at the local sports field! Now there is some great design work!

I love the south, don't you?

That's not Bait!

There is an old joke (and I'm an old jokester) which says that Sushi has existed in the South for a long long time. We just call it BAIT. (Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week...)

Sushi, if you are not in the know, is a Japanese dish described as cold cooked rice dressed with vinegar that is shaped into bite-sized pieces and topped with raw or cooked fish, or formed into a roll with fish, egg, or vegetables and wrapped in seaweed. Just sort of makes you want to sit right down and eat...and I'm sure it's that mention of 'raw fish' that does it. Right?

My late mother loved sushi. She visited Japan when I was a little tyke (I stayed home) and had a love of sushi ever since. She loved to tell me of a place she found in California on vacation where she could get 'all you can eat' sushi, and yes, she would eat all she could eat and then some.

So, to bring this back to the South, recently a new oriental restaurant opened in our fair city advertising Japanese and Oriental Cuisine. Amazingly, it is within walking distance of our house. (It's actually about a mile, but to me that's walking distance. To most, any more than a trip to the next door neighbor is a need for a fossil fueled conveyance but as usual, I digress...)

Every few months, I can talk my wife into lunch at some Oriental All-You-Can-Eat Buffet and to be sure, there are several in our area. So, amazingly enough we ended up at this new place. Also amazingly, I discover that they have one of the largest selections of sushi I have ever seen this side of a bass fishin' tournament. They had Boston rolls, Tuna rolls, veggie rolls, California rolls, sushi of every type and style.

Now comes the part where I nearly lost it. I am sitting at the table, eating my usual General Tso's Chicken. I've got a nice Spring Roll and some sort of seafood dish, and my wife sits down with a plate of Sushi. I couldn't believe my eyes. This lovely lady across from me is about to eat some raw fish. RAW. FISH.

Well, to make a long story short, I had to try it. If only to honor my mother who tried to get me to try it for so long. I got myself a plate of sushi, some Wassabi (Very little, that stuff is like Nuclear Horshradish and will eat a hole in your tongue!) and true to the memory of my sainted mother, I even had a second plate. This may keep me from becoming a true member of the Suthun Good Ol' Boys Club, but I have to say, I really enjoyed it.

The place has become a regular stop of ours, and every time, ever single time, I think of my mother and wonder how she'd find the quality.  Southern Sushi.  Who woulda thought?

Confederate Memorial Day

Last Monday we celebrated Memorial Day (US) where we remember those who have given their lives in honor of our country. On Tuesday, I was driving down the street near the Hermitage and saw the above banner. Now, I understand the idea of Memorial day, a day we remember those who have given their life in defence of that which we believe in. But what exactly this this? Good question!

Confederate Memorial Day, also known as Confederate Decoration Day (Tennessee) and Confederate Heroes Day (Texas), is an official holiday and/or observance day in parts of the U.S. South as a day to honor those who died fighting for the Confederate States of America during the American Civil War.

Now, to some it might seem like a rather incongruous thing to celebrate and at first, even I was a bit surprised at the idea.... In effect, honoring those who died defending values we now find reprehensible such as Slavery. But at the same time, these are our forefathers, our history, our family. (Not mine, I'm from Colorado...)

Additoinally, this happens in the same U.S. South which has problems displaying the "Southern Cross" (aka, the Confederate Battle Flag). Can the two exist simultaneously? The uninitiated might say No. You'd be wrong.

What must be understood here, is that the Confederate Memorial Day does not stand for the beliefs as does the flag (or it would seem), but rather, it is for the memory of those who fought to preserve a way of life. Regardless of how we now feel, one has to take that fervor, that willingness to die for what one believes in and honor those who did. And Honor we do...well, at least 7 Suthun States that do and I'm happy to be part of one that does.

Just one more reason to love the South.

Memorial Day - a note of remembrance.

I did not vote for Obama. In fact, it may come as no surprise to anyone that I have not voted for the winning Presidential Candidate - ever. This may be one of those rants where you may want to just jump on over to ICanHasCheesburger and forget all this, but someone really must say something.

It's Memorial Day. A day in which we honor and remember those who have given us our freedoms, our way of life and our rich history. Throughout my life, I have spent part of this day watching our President place a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington Virginia. In so doing, a silent way of thanking all those who have given the greatest sacrifice by the one who has asked the most of them - our President, the leader of our nation, the one who takes us in and out of wars, taking the one day each year to say a prayer and thank those gone, yet not forgotten.

It's Memorial day. Where is Obama? Obama is not there. Biden is there. Obama is not. For the first time since it's inception, the Memorial Day Ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery will not be attended by our Commander in Chief. Apparently it is more important on Memorial Day for Obama to be with family than to honor those who have given their lives at his command. Oh Obama attended some ceremony in Chicago, but it seems a hollow gesture to the nation, at least in my book.

It's not right.

I live in Tennessee, amid the rich history of the Tennessee Volunteers. So named because when the president called, volunteers came. Honored to fight for our nation, at the behest and command of our President, the commander in Chief of those armies. When Governor Brown asked for 2800 men to fight Santa Ana, more than 30,000 volunteered to fight. It is an honor to fight for this nation. At least to us.

For the first time, I am ashamed of our President. Did he not understand what the job entailed when he filled out the application? Does he not understand that Memorial day is not just Family and Bar-B-Que? The answer is yes, he does. Because even if he doesn't understand the job, the meanings and the history of Memorial Day, you can be sure that some informed staffer has told him. After all, he attended the ceremony in Chicago, as a sort of 'gee, I guess I should do something..' Obama then CHOSE not to be in Arlington. (Let's face it, it's not like he couldn't get a flight back to DC. Air Force One flies when HE wants and when he CHOOSES.)

I hope to return to my usual look at life in the south next week. Until then, please pray for the families of those soldiers who gave their all, and pray for President, that he may soon know the real reason of this day.

Springtime in the South - No Such Thing.

Actually, that's a misnomer. The South DOES get a springtime, it's just that it only lasts a short time. I define spring to be that time when a light breeze is lifting the leaves in salutation, birds are singing, and you can stay out in the sun for more than an hour without turning into a puddle of hot chicken fat. Spring in the South lasts about 2 weeks, in a good year. Then, we are hit with the full force of the humidity and heat that only the South can offer. Yes, hot chicken fat time. I spend most of my time indoors, checking the air conditioning level to keep the humidity at bay.

This all comes about because I mowed my lawn yesterday. Yes, in the 88° degree heat, and about 150% humidity, I felt the call of the Lawn Ranger and saddled up the mower. As regular readers know, I have a nice rear-wheel Deere which saves a lot of wear and tear on yours truly. But the heat and humidity still is a killer.

I have a full outfit which I wear to mow the lawn. Along with the camouflage jeans, and white tee-shirt (advertising a proper Non Lite Southern Beverage) I wear a polyvinyl pith helmet. I am from Scottish heritage and have the kind of complexion where a large photo of a sunny day can give me a sunburn. The Pith Helmet does, in fact, do three things. 1) It keeps the sun off my face and neck. 2) it allows air flow over the top of my head, and apparently 3) gives my wife something to laugh at. Sometimes, when the heat gets the best of me I also carry a wet towel which I wrap around my neck. Yeah, I have a lot of trouble with the heat.

Oddly, none of my Suthun neighbors laugh at the outfit. They seem to know that the sun and heat must be kept at bay at all costs. Though none of them wear pith helmets they all have their own ways of keeping the heat off while the duties of the Lawn Ranger take precedence. I like to think that the pith helmet makes me some what special in their eyes.