About Me

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Nashville, TN, United States
Well everyone else seems to be blogging ( is that a word?)so I thought I'd give it a shot. Just musings about something that happened to me...life. Happens to the best of us though, right?

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A funny thing happened to me...life: I'm just a fan.....

A funny thing happened to me...life: I'm just a fan.....

Saturday, February 19, 2011

I'm just a fan.....

They were already 80 years old when I was born.  A venerable age by all accounts for anything, or anyone

for that matter in our relatively young country.  I don't believe it is recorded whether they were planted or they

like so many other oaks, germinated from the fallen acorn from one of their brethren.  They have survived

drought, flood, harsh winters and of course the tornadoes that plague our State every year. At one time or

another their acorns provided forage for wild deer, squirrels and other animals of the forest.  In recent years

their acorns have been collected, seedlings established and then sold to share their heritage. They grew

despite the invasion of men and their buildings, you might even say that a town was built around their very

existence as they sit in the geographical center of the "Loveliest Village on the Plains".  They have provided

shade during the Alabama summer and shelter in the sudden downpour of an Alabama spring.  I'd be willing

to bet that perhaps one or two young lovers have kissed beneath them for the first time and perhaps a

proposal or two has been offered and accepted beneath their massive limbs.  They look stately and wise, if

you believe in such, in the way that nature matures and shapes itself over 130 years.  They eventually became

the central place to gather in times of celebration.  A focal point for a town, a university, and yes, a State

where we all could meet to express our joy and pride from accomplishments and feats of athleticism that both

thrilled and inspired us.  We celebrated in a silly way, adorning their branches with long sheets of toilet paper

draped from them like streamers being dropped from a departing ship or being thrown from the windows of

buildings during a hero's parade.  We didn't build them, commission them like a piece of art or even plant

them for the purpose they serve.  They have emerged as an icon to longevity, diversity, adversity and triumph.

Today those beloved trees are dying.  A man poisoned them out of spite over a football game.  The assertions

I have heard is that he is crazy and I have no doubt that is true, it doesn't change the fact that it was done

over a silly game.  The State of Alabama has built two world class institutes of higher learning that also

happen to have football teams.  One has been forever successful and certainly the pride of Alabama for many

years.  One has become more prominent over the last 20 years, reaching the ultimate goal just this year in

football circles.  They have inspired us to become fans, a rivalry emerged that at one time was healthy and in

good fun has turned tragic and ugly.  I'm going to admit here that I'm as guilty as anyone else in the insanity.  I

stomped around mad for days over a comment made by an Alabama fan, I've blocked people's comments on

Facebook, and made inflammatory comments on other people's Facebook page as well.  Today it stops for

me.  Today I vow to just be a fan again.  I will no longer wish for others to lose to feed my ego.  I will no

longer celebrate when teams do poorly or lose a recruit to a rival school.  I will celebrate when Alabama or

Auburn plays and wish both the best.  I will be proud of either as they bring acclaim to a place I proudly call

my home.  I will congratulate my friends when their team wins and be encouraged by the efforts of my team

when they lose.  Please don't get me wrong, I will always be an Auburn fan.  My 10 year-old son who in his

heart truly believes he will play college football will be strongly encouraged by his father to go to Auburn.

Where he will be going soon is to Toomer's Corner, I want him and his sister to see the oaks before they die

and  I hope he will  learn from me that traditions are important, that the spirit of competition inspires us to be

our best and that football is just a game played on Saturdays.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

The breeze, the bay and a memory.....

I am always amazed by how incredibly connected our senses are to memories of an event or a place.

Especially our olfactory sense seems to link them together.  Yesterday while getting a towel out of the

bathroom closet I caught a whiff of the coconut scented tanning oil that we have stored there for future use.

Immediately, memories of Panama City Beach came flooding into my mind.  They were so clear and vibrant it

was almost like I was there in that instant.  My family had a 28 foot camper that we parked at Venture Out a

community of campers mixed with an assortment of mobile homes for some of the locals in that area.  We

went every summer for 3 or 4 years when I was in high school.  It backed up to the bay and was directly

across from Captain Anderson's restaurant and the Treasure Ship that had recently been built at that time.

Across the street was the beach. Memories flood my mind fragmented and picked from many days spent

there happy, carefree and lazy.  I do not recall a bad day spent there.  I do remember walking in the ocean

around knee deep as the tide came in at night, flashlight in one hand, crabbing net in the other and catching the

next nights boil.  Riding my bike with several of the local residents of the park to St. Andrews State Park to

fish off the jetties for anything we could catch.  Swimming across the bay stopping in the middle to rest on the

sandbar always amazed by how quickly the ocean changed from shallow to deep.

I  remember the red dress that the girl wore the night we went out for the first time during one summer.  I do

not recall her name though.  She was tall, tanned, blonde and way out of my league.  Her father was career

army and they were taking a summer before leaving to live at Ft. Dix in New Jersey. Our first stop was the

Treasure Ship where we sipped Virgin Pina Colada's in tall keepsake glasses which only cost 3 dollars more

per drink. A local strummed a guitar and sang Jimmy Buffet, James Taylor, Christopher Cross and Paul

Simon songs in the background as we talked and laughed.  I must have been 16 that year because I can

remember driving my parents big tan hideously uncool Buick LeSabre with her sitting next to me. I don't even

know if they still put bench seats in the front of cars anymore but if you've never driven with your arm around

a pretty girl with one hand on the wheel and the radio softly playing while she rests her head on your shoulder

you know why they should still make those seats.  We ended that night at the pier that ran out into the bay.

Legs dangling into the water, feeling them floating up and down in time with the sound of the water lapping at

the posts.  A quarter moon hung in the sky, shedding light enough to make the water ripple with a glow that

allowed you to hear the distant boats passing but not enough to see anything but their lights move in and out of

the bay.  The warmth of her hand in mine as we sat mostly in silence watching the boats and listening to

someone's radio pour out tunes from somewhere close by.  A slight breeze blew  across us bringing the rich

smell of the beach, salt water, and the faintness of her coconut tanning lotion. It seems now like a complicated

symphony had been written to fill every sense to complete a memory. After leaving the pier I drove her back

to our trailer and walked her across the street to hers. She kissed me on the cheek, sweet, innocent, perfect.

A week later they left for her father's new duty station.  I think she hugged me and we both promised to write.

We never did of course, and I've never seen her again.  I don't think I've really thought about it again since it

happened and it all came back by opening a closet door and smelling coconut sun tanning oil.  Sweet,

innocent and perfect.......

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The 5 Steps of Facebook Withdrawal....

Recently my wife sweetly pointed out that perhaps I am consumed by checking my Facebook account.  I denied that this was true.  She then pointed out that an addicted person always denies their addiction.  I then announced that with my super willpower that I would not log onto Facebook for one week.  I lasted 5 days.  The following is my account of what will now be known as the 5 Steps of Facebook Withdrawal.  I have have assurance from the scientific community that it will be published in a really, really, really, important journal soon.

Step 1.  Anxiety.... It started innocently.  I logged off my computer, discontinued my email notifications and logged off my android phone.  That wasn't so hard I thought. I promptly went to bed thinking this is a breeze.  Woke up the next morning, took my shower, got dressed, poured a cup of coffee and ate my bowl of gluten free rice chex. I sat down and booted up the computer, immediately my promise came to mind.  No logging on to Facebook today.  My palms instantly got sweaty and a small wave of anxiety rolled through my body.  "No big deal, who cares that I'm not on Facebook today?"   Off to work, whistling as I left the house.

Step 2.  Denial.... Funny how little things disrupt your day.  I own a smart phone, generally in layman's terms it means that the phone I own is smarter than me.  I usually keep my Facebook logged in during the day and on occasion I will check it at work just to make sure that nothing important has happen, oh say in the last hour or so.  "Oh well, I'll just be in the dark today" I nervously chuckled.  Actually, come to think of it the laugh was more maniacal than whimsy.  Later in the day I picked up my phone to call about an appointment I had made and instead of touching the phone button I touched the Facebook icon which instantly opened to the log in screen. There's that maniacal laugh again.

Step 3.  Self Affirmation.... Do you remember Stuart Smiley on SNL?  Everyday he'd look in the mirror and repeat, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and doggone it, people like me"  In this step you must move pass the need for constant affirmation.  The day begin as usual but I noticed that I wasn't as cheerful as usual, that my cereal didn't taste quite right, "I'll need to note that on Facebook" I thought, "I feel certain other peoples cereal didn't taste good this morning and they'll like my status"  Wait, I can't post my status. Am I the only one who had a crappy bowl of cereal this morning?  How will I know that I'm normal?  How will I know that people "like" me?"  I decide to look in the mirror and repeat, "I'm good enough, I'm smart.........

Step 4.  Hallucinatory state.... This occurs about day 3 continuing into Day 5.  Did my computer just flash the Facebook log in screen?  No, No, I'm still on yahoo.  I swear it my laptop was closed when I walked out of the room and now it's opened to the log in screen for Facebook.  I look at Sarah.  She looks a little evil.  I think maybe she's taunting me over there on her Macbook laughing and smiling at all her friend's posts from today.  Did she just wink at the screen?  I ease myself out of the room slowly hoping that she's unable to smell the fear in my sweat. I'm sweating alot so I don't go to my computer.  I don't because the keyboard might get soaked and ruined.  I'll call my kids, that's what I'll do they'll comfort me.  Wait who put my phone on the Facebook log in screen?  Why is my Facebook icon flashing?  Why won't my phone let me make a call?  Has Sarah done something to it too?  I wonder if Sprint is in on this?  I wish I could talk to Mark Zuckerberg right now he'd make them stop.  My hands are shaking now, I have the stench of desperation around me.  People are looking at me strange now all the time, whispering posts I"m sure.  Thoughts keep running through my mind.  I keep getting an error message over and over telling me my thoughts are limited to 420 characters.  "Mark Zuckerberg is Satan" is going to be my first "post" I feel certain.  Why has my boss suggested I take some time off?  I think my friends will have some "comments" about his attitude.

Stage 5.  Bliss..... I log in on my phone.  I get an error message three times.  Has my account been deleted?  No, no I've just misspelled my email address.  Must be my shaky hands.  I'M LOGGED ON!  WOOHOOO!!!!!!!    Pure Bliss!   The world is right!  I lasted 5 days.  I mean that's a business week right?  I have great willpower.  I think I'll post that right now.....