January 2004: The Five-Day Cider War
tweet this
I've just about decided that there's nothing that karaoke can't fix. If it can train a Sicilian and a Southerner to live together, in harmony, then at the next G8, or G12, G+number, Summit...we need to hire Disco Dan, or Happy Butch to grab their mic stands and their CDs. I resisted this, what to me, was merely a bar-room, nocturnal, alcohol-fueled passtime, for many years. I felt that I couldn't possibly degrade myself, a real singer, I thought to myself, to such a ridiculously low-level thirst for spotlight attention. Ah, but what a little spotlight can do. With my brief second tenure in Indiana, I...
The philosophy of Frogism.
One time, when I was small child, a friend of mine and I beat frogs to death with red, plastic shovels after a rain storm, mid-afternoon on a Saturday. It was just one of those things that you do when you're a kid. I was never a particularly violent child. Though, perhaps I skirted the state line of crazy for a band of years during my adolescence, like, ages Birth to Present...but, believe me, it's in our blood. I've managed to escape, cleanly enough so far, and that's it's own definition of success. To this day, I pray for those frogs' souls, though. And, for good measure, I...
All they could do was "talk the fire out."
Part of my nightly ritual is calling U.L., checking in with him before I go to bed. He's a very nervous and worried man, and has a slight addiction to mayonnaise, like the rest of us in Mississippi, despite believing that it causes him great anxiety. It's gotten a little better now that he's on his "nerve pill." Which took every preacher south of God to convince him to take. This side of my family is very old, very superstitious, maybe a little Christian Scientist but registered as Southern Baptist... And it never fails that each night our phone conversation goes a little...
Advertise With Us
