A smoking pile of rubble

In the total loss of building use scenario, what likely exists will be a smoking pile of rubble. This rubble will contain many components that could be dangerous. It could also contain any personnel on the premises at the time of the disaster. For these reasons, the local fire marshal with the assistance of the police will control the site until the building is no longer a threat to surrounding properties and the companies have secured the site from the general public.

I've been reading the disaster recovery plan for one of our providers. Above is a particularly fun paragraph.

Technorati Tags:disaster recovery, catastrophy, smoking pile of rubble

Breaking news?

I know that I tend to ramble here. The websites that offer recommendations on blogging say that you should pick a topic and stick to it. Oh well.

On September 24, our little town adopted a new law that may be controversial in some circles. It was on the local television news on October 9, Tuesday of last week (see the previous blog post). It showed up as "Breaking News" on the main local daily newspaper late last week (Friday I think). Their coverage on this breaking news story (almost a month old now) was basically, "City passes ordinance restricting ownership of some dogs." Seriously. It was one line -- on the website. No story followed the next day.

There was a message on my answering machine tonight from a reporter for the local daily newspaper. She left the message at about 7:45 for a news story that will, I guess, run tomorrow. I returned her call just after 10 o'clock. She thanked me for my call but said she'd already filed the story.

I have no idea why this has become an issue now. Further bulletins as events warrant... :)

Not quite a TV star

The rumors are true. I was on television last night. I don't think I made the best showing, but I'm told I was very serious. Out of about 20 minutes of video I'm on camera like 30 seconds... Oh well.

Technorati Tags:television, pit bull, WBBJ

And they do not like you...

from "There Will Be No Peace" - W.H. Auden

You must live with your knowledge.
Way back, beyond, outside of you are others,
In moonless absences you never heard of,
Who have certainly heard of you,
Beings of unknown number and gender:
And they do not like you.

Wow. That's dark. Look up the rest of the poem if you're interested. I love W. H. Auden. Not a love poet, certainly, but WOW.

And no, I don't think this poem's about you... be happy!

I'll record the rest of it and post it as a link later.

Uncle Harry tells the "pig story"

We had a chance to work on a new video the other night. Mr. Harry wanted to share "the pig story" with some of his nieces and nephews... So.. Here's "Story Time with Uncle Harry"



Give Allison credit for the idea, Justin for the soundtrack, and ME for the pig noises.. Mr. Harry did a great job!

Technorati Tags:Video, Story, Pigs

Gabba Gabba GOOOOO!

The Pentecostal Church and The Holy Ghost Want You To Wear Pig Panties � Violent Acres:

"Not only were we surrounded by friends, but at any second, there was a distinct possibility that someone would become possessed by the good ol’ Holy Ghost and feel compelled to shout at the ceiling, “GABBA GABBA GOOOOO!”"

I'm fascinated by "spirit filled churches". I do believe that the Spirit manifests itself in different ways in different people and different communities of faith -- it's a fact that we don't speak in tongues or fall under the spirit very often in our small-town Methodist Church. I'm told that it happens in other local churches.

The above account (and I recommend reading the entire post) is hilarious and also informative. I've not read such a frank account of life in a Pentecostal church before.

Enjoy!

Technorati Tags:Pentecostal Church, Religion, Spirituality, Interesting

Breathe

I have allowed you to
Place me in a little box
So small, I can hardly
Breathe.

I do not like it in the box
It is small and
I like to
Breathe.

So you sit there
On the box
Talking at me
Not to me, as if nothing is
Amiss.

I will allow you to leave
If you will
So I can leave this little box and
Breathe.

She just lay down to sleep...

Goodbye.

Technorati Tags:pet, dog, death, German Shepherd

Memphis music

I spent the weekend at the Memphis Music and Heritage Festival in and around the Center for Southern Folklore on Main Street in Memphis. This is an annual event for me -- I think this is my ninth festival. I've been working for and with the Center since 1997.

It's truly an amazing event put together almost entirely by volunteers. The Music and Heritage Festival is the largest free heritage festival of its kind in the Southeast, I think. Yeah, I said FREE. More than 100 acts played over two days. Everything from Choctaw Dancers to Klezmer to the Bobby Rush himself made this years festival a HUGE success.

I am more and more amazed every year with Judy Peiser, the Center's Executive Director, particularly. She seems to have boundless energy and a boundless drive to promote ALL facets of culture represented in the South at the Festival. Judy is simply amazing.

As I say, I've worked with the Center for Southern Folklore for the last decade or so -- I've met hundreds of musicians, artists, and entertainment professionals. I've shook hands with B.B. King (and served him dinner) several times, I've spent quality time with Marty Stuart and the late Rufus Thomas, I've spent hours with record producers, concert promoters, painters, sculptors, and who knows who else. I've never gotten a picture with any of them. I'm an idiot -- in many cases, I was ALONE with these folks. I never thought it was proper or my place to be a fan; I wanted to do my job and make these people comfortable. I've decided to change my outlook slightly: Yes, I'll continue to do my job and support these folks in whatever professional way that I can, but I'm also gonna get PICTURES.

I have a hodge-podge of responsibilities at the Music and Heritage Festival. Primarily, I'm nominally over the operations of the bar and food service area inside what is known as "Folklore Hall". I'm a problem solver, too, fixing problems and putting out fires that may crop up in and near the venue for which I'm responsible. I'm also responsible for making sure the artists get paid. Yeah, I get to hand out the checks -- and that puts me directly in front of the performers.

That's really one of the greatest parts of my job at the festival: I get to meet and greet every performer. Many of the "regulars" know my name; almost all of them know my face by now. Many begin smiling when they see me, call my name, or just generally seem glad to see me. I'd be glad to see me, too, of course, as I have their check! This year, I got several pictures with some of my favorite artists; unfortunately, I *still* missed a few of my favorites.

I did manage to get pictures with two of my primary targets, however: Eddie Bond and Kate Campbell. Of course, in all the pictures, I look like someone's been beating me with a club and the performers look like they've been drenched -- it was hot in Memphis this last weekend (even inside it was warm under the stage lights).

I had a great time -- even though my feet and knees are just now getting back to normal. I can't wait for next year.

For more information on the Center for Southern Folklore, visit http://www.southernfolklore.com. There's also a special web-page for the festival at http://www.memphismusicandheritage festival.com.

I recommend reading Andria Lisle's excellent article on the festival in the Memphis Flyer (click).

Also, Tom Bremer wrote a nice blurb on Kate Campbell (click) in his reflections on this years festival.

Technorati Tags:Center for Southern Folklore, Memphis Music and Heritage Festival, Memphis, Music

A little Hank Williams: "You Win Again"

As you may know, I’ve been playing around with an Autoharp for several months. At the same time, I’ve fallen in love with Hank Williams, Sr. He recorded lots of music. His themes seem to be confined basically to:

• Lost, Unrequited, or Spurned Love
• His Mother Dying
• Gospel Music

I’ve played a few gospel numbers for various church and community gatherings. I’ve not had a chance to play anything else, really. I recorded myself playing “You Win Again” tonight. It’s not terribly bad, I think, but I’m not a professional . You can have a look at the lyrics by visiting the LyricWiki page for “You Win Again”.

You can have a listen to my version here:

So, I think I don’t need to be on the road. Still, it was fun! What do you think of Hank Williams or my rendition of his song/

Technorati Tags:Hank Williams, Autoharp, Recording, You Win Again

Lucky letters? Ha!

Last night I was talking to a friend of mine and, knowing my penchant for crossword puzzles, she recommended I try Pat Sajak's "Lucky Letters" online game. It looked pretty neat. Pat Sajak was explaining to me the rules and then he offered my first slate of "Lucky Letters". The image to the right is a screen shot showing the letters I had to choose from. Click the image to enlarge -- I've highlighted the relevant part.

Now, I would like to believe that this was a completely random occurrence. I don't know, really. Perhaps some programmer some where was having a good time -- or perhaps some programmer somewhere forgot to put a filter in. Nevertheless, I laughed. My friend laughed (when I sent her the screenshot).

So, should I send this to the game people? What do you think about my "Lucky Letters"?

Technorati Tags:Pat Sajak, Lucky Letters, Flash Games, FUCK, Funny, Screenshot

Leading birth control 1930 to 1960: Lysol?

Lysol (cleaner) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

"In the US, from around 1930 to 1960, vaginal douching with a Lysol disinfectant solution was the most popular form of birth control. US marketing ads printed testimonials from European 'doctors' touting its safety and effectiveness."

Wow. I like Lysol -- it makes my house feel clean. But BIRTH CONTROL? I never knew this. It's so bizzare!!! How in the world did someone decide that was a good idea? What woman would use Lysol in such a way? Wow.

Technorati Tags:lysol, birth control, bizzare, wikipedia

Plum tuckered out...

The heat is getting to me. The drought is getting to me. Life is getting to me.

I need a vacation and so I will have one. The waves breaking, the sand between my toes, the fish in my belly... Destin, here I come.

I will celebrate my birthday on the sugar-fine sand beaches of the Emerald Coast. If you're gonna be around Destin the week of August 27, let me know!

My father is somewhat upset, however, that I will miss HIS birthday while I'm gone. In retribution, he's making plans to attend B.B. King's concert in Tunica. That's almost enough to make me stay -- but not quite. He also claims that he's going to play golf -- again, to see my father in the heat of summer on the golf course is almost enough to keep me in our small town. My mother tactfully asked him how many holes he plans to play. My father replied, "All of them!" "How many days will that take?" my mother asked... He responded with a scowl.

Loving your neighbor

Justin asked a question on his Facebook a couple days ago, "What one thing have you learned today?"

I answered that question: "The way we treat the people we like the least is the best measure of our character."

If you're a Christian, you've probably heard Jesus' take on this issue: "Love your neighbor as yourself," and "Whatever you do unto the least of these you do also unto Me."

That second suggestion is really only relevant if you're a Christian and believe in putting Jesus/God first, of course. There's also the Golden Rule, "Do unto other as you would have them do unto you."

I dunno. I've been reminded lately, both at work and in my personal life, that we need to treat everyone with the love and respect that we hope to receive. Just because we *can* treat someone like crap doesn't mean we should -- even if there are no consequences (but you know, there are consequences and repercussions to every action). Just because we are set above someone or hold some power over them doesn't mean we should use it, it doesn't mean we should take the opportunity to demean or degrade them.

One of the most innocent and truly good and simple people I know in this world (other than Samuel) has been seriously abused this last few weeks by someone in authority over them. It's not fair, it's not right, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. It breaks my heart, it makes me want to weep, but I'm powerless here (I think). I keep thinking time will make this just "go away", but this abuse, this demeaning condescending attitude that's directed toward this simple and good person keeps rearing its ugly head. I want to fix everything, but I can't -- I know, I know.

How sweet... wait.. easy girls?

I found this image on the web this evening and thought it was terribly sweet. What a wonderful visual poem addressing how the "best" and "good" girls are harder to reach. It explains why "good" girls may be waiting... And then... I read it again...

Does this mean that those girls I've pursued who've chosen assholes and dipsh*ts (instead of me, the perfect man) have been "easy" and "rotten"? I don't know whether to be relieved or disturbed. What does this say about me?

Technorati Tags:women, bad apples, good, relationships

Import a Skunk? 30 days and $50

70-4-208. Unlawful importation of skunks — Penalty. —

(a) It is unlawful for any person to import, possess, or cause to be imported into this state any type of live skunk, or to sell, barter, exchange or otherwise transfer any live skunk, except that the prohibitions of this section shall not apply to bona fide zoological parks and research institutions.

(b) A violation of this section is a Class C misdemeanor.

[Acts 1974, ch. 622, § 1; 1982, ch. 738, § 31; T.C.A., § 51-514; Acts 1989, ch. 591, § 113.]

A Class C misdemeanor in Tennessee is punishable by "not greater than 30 days in jail and a fine not to exceed $50".

HELP HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!!!!

Why in the world can't I import a skunk into the great state of Tennessee? What if I just lure a skunk into the state -- say with some peanut butter or something? I can see the headline now: "Local alderman jailed for transporting pole-cat across state lines"...

I thought this was hilarious when I found it the other day while searching for animal cruelty laws. "Seriously," I thought, "why would it matter?" Apparently, skunks are common carriers of rabies and our General Assembly in its wisdom decided to outlaw the importation of this dangerous feline. I hope they didn't spend long on this law.

Technorati Tags:skunk, Tennessee, dumb laws

The day turned dark

I’ve been dealing with some pretty serious crap lately (literally). I won’t elaborate, but it suffices to say that I’ve been stressed. Don’t fret about me though, I’ll be okay. It’s not bad stress, just lots of it. I’ve been pretty much at peace lately. Hoo rah.

My day had been full yesterday. I’d worked at my desk much of the day, trying to finish projects that never seem to get finished. Trying to empty my “in” box even as Judy was shoving more stuff on top. The end of the day came and I was tired.

I find myself sitting on my couch just after 5:00 and the phone rang. It was Justin and he asked me where I was. His tone was curt and cold and I wondered what was wrong. “It’s distinctly possible I’ve pissed him off,” I think to myself. I’d talked to him earlier in the day, but one never knows. I screw up all the time.

No. Justin wasn’t mad at me. He was calling to tell me that a student at Gibson County High School had collapsed on the field during football practice. They’d rushed him to the hospital but he’d been unresponsive and in fact had passed away just minutes before Justin called.

As Justin told me this, matter-of-factly, as he told me who it was, I was shocked. I was amazed. I didn’t weep or cry. I said, “Oh God”. That was pretty much it.

The day turned dark.

This young man was the younger, baby brother of a guy, John, who graduated from High School with me. He was almost exactly a year younger than Samuel. John and I had baby brothers at the same time. I remember offering him advice when his brother was born; babies were new things to 8^th graders.

I called my parents last night. My father said nothing for a few moments and then quietly told my mother. Over the telephone I could hear her sobs. I told my father to take care of my mother and that I’d be over shortly.

I won’t laud the young man, though he probably deserves it. He was a good kid; a genuinely good kid, so far as I know. I was always pleased to see him.

I am reminded that life can change in a moment. We can be snatched away from our loved ones in the blink of an eye. They can be snatched away from us in an instant. Death is no respecter of age, health, position, power, or wealth. We must cherish our friends and family. We must love them and let them know we love them. We must love and accept love.

Nose hair and the men who have it...

I spent the day with a young guy who’s studying to be an engineer. That’s not really relevant except that it might explain why he doesn’t care about his nose hair. It’s possible that he just doesn’t notice; engineers are a rare breed.

This guy’s nasal hair is AMAZING! It’s like a little spider or something sitting on each side of his nostril. I can’t imagine breathing with something like that growing out of my breathing holes. Surely he can feel it; surely it interferes with his eating! I won’t say it’s disgusting, but it’s certainly distracting. I can’t look at him without staring at his nose. Dark black wiry hair.

Of course, he also has a scraggly, unkempt beard. I don’t know what’s going on — even when I had a beard, it was either really scruffy (but full) or neatly trimmed. His beard doesn’t look good scruffy ‘cause it’s not thick enough. Again, dark black wiry hair.

I’ve only recently had to become concerned about nose hair. Patrick, my former roommate, grew a forest if he didn’t keep it trimmed. Tori and Allison even gave him a trimmer especially for his nose a few Christmases ago. I had no such worries; I still don’t worry much. I only get the occasional straggler that is quickly plucked out.

If you see a little friend, a blondish tendril, peaking out of my nose, please let me know. I don’t want to be the object of conversation.

Technorati Tags:nose hair, grooming, appearance

How the bestsellers end...

It seems bestsellers always end up with someone (or several people) dying. It’s true for Harry Potter, certainly. I’ll not spoil it — my friend Matt’s already been cursing me ‘cause I inadvertently gave up some plot details.

Now, I’ll not tell you how it ends, but you’ll be surprised and pleased, I think. I managed to snag a copy and I’ve read the highlights… you need to either read the book or wait for the move (which is sure to be a block-buster).

I will, however, fill you in on the details of another bestseller.  Yeah, Jesus dies. But he comes back. Don’t mean to spoil it for you, but if you’ve missed that, you’re kinda out of touch anyway.

Before you get to bitching about my comparing the Bible and Harry Potter think for a moment: More people will read Harry Potter cover-to-cover this year than will read the Bible (perhaps at all). I’m not kidding and you know I’m right.

I just finished an excellent biography of Winston Churchill by Roy Jenkins that included more than 1000 pages of small print. If I can read this thing cover-to-cover, why not the Bible? I dunno; I’ve a flawed character — even though I’m the perfect man.

Technorati Tags:Harry Potter, Jesus, Bible, Spoiler

I was a 4 year old pageant king

No, I wasn’t a 4 year old pageant king, but I know kids who were. Though I’m not sure I agree with the practice, I can see little girls in beauty pageants; not so little boys. Can you imagine facing the bullies at pre-school? It can’t be good for one’s self image: If you win, you think you’re amazing, if you lose, you think you suck. Tweenage boys don’t need to reflect on their life on the pageant circuit; they’ve got enough trouble with emerging hormones and blossoming sexuality.

I’ll confess, I’ve been to beauty pageants. Hell, I’ve JUDGED a beauty pageant. I judged little toddling boys, too, I’ll tell you. It was tough and I thought they should all get a trophy, a sharp pointed trophy they could use to attack their mothers when they’re old enough to figure out that their mothers started their sissification far too young. I was hoping one of them would bite his mother but alas, no.

I dunno. My friend Liz was in a pageant a last year I think. It was a small, local thing and she won. She got to ride in a parade and preside over the opening ceremonies of several community events. She also got to sell t-shirts at a “memorabilia stand”.

For those of you interested in the pageant life, I refer you to the excellent movie, Drop Dead Gorgeous. While satirical, it highlights some of the sillier aspects of pageantry.

 

Technorati Tags:beauty pageants , children, abuse