That's a Really Great Box

"Where you takin' that box?"

"To the dumpster."

"Can I have it?"

No, of course, you can't have it. Every time I take a box to the dumpster it gives me a new Hummel Figure for my collection.

"Sure."

"This is a really great box. I've gotta get my office organized and this box is perfect."

...

"What you got goin' today?"

"Yer lookin' at it....probably burn a cigarette." I didn't even raise my eyes from the computer screen, which at that moment was blank. A question like that is necessarily preceded by a series of unpleasant thoughts..."I want to accomplish X. X is a really big task. I need help with all that work. I wonder what Erik's doing."

"I think I'm gonna jump on that freezer...get it straightened out. Try to get some organization in there."

"It is a mess back there."

...

"What's happenin' man...what's really goin' on."

He took a long drag...sighed through the smoke..."Just tryin' to cross reference some products with users...tryin' to maximize my time so I'm not drivin' all over creation this year."

...

These people are always trying to get organized. They're constantly trying because they always fail...and I'm supposed to be the one that's crazy.

First of all it's unhealthy. At some point you gotta accept the world for what it is. Maybe the world is trying to organize you. Relax, accept it...take comfort in the fact that you will never express a thought so dreadful as.."That's a really great cardboard box."

Secondly, people that are actually doing their job, don't have time for that crap. My job is to walk into a kitchen...smile, crack some jokes, and wink on the way out...and I am very good at my job. People that talk in meetings, fill out reports, and organize are people that want you to think they're working. That's a Universal rule.

"Honey can you get that trash out?"

"Sugar men who have time to take out the trash...are men who aren't working hard enough at being a Father and Husband."

See?

My one and only New Year's Resolution...be an even better employee and an even better Father and Husband.

Merry Christmas Y'all. Durn!

Last week was supossed to be a great time for the blog.

Mostly what I do for a living is put new products in kitchens. So, after the first week or so in December...it get's a little slow.

"Oh yeah...we can really do something with this...come on back first of the year."

"Come back and see me after the First...we gon be makin' some changes. This'll be great."

"Etc."

It's 'bout pointless to leave the office during the last few weeks of December and I was ready to sit. I had a list of topics to cover...

Fininsh explaining why Joe Strummer made a terrible Punk Rocker

How the adamparsons can't tell the difference between Collards, Turnips...and Cabbage. Really.

The literary genius of Satellite of Love

How y'all have utterly failed me this year in coming up with the definitive take on Memphis

I wasted Monday playin' Microsoft Pinball...it happens. Then, inexplicably...there was an appointment. Then a ride with...and anther appointment. on Friday. I never work on Friday.

Then my Daddy showed up...and I was home and there was a fire. Christmas shopping and a couple of Bowl Games. More Christmas shopping. Then I broke down and ate somebody's stocking stuffers...now I have to go back out for more Christmas shopping.

Anyway....

P.S. I'll be back in the office next week and we will discuss the adamparsons' outrageous characterization of the Collards.

Back to the Shuck and Jive

Last night, Martha bought tickets to see B.B. King in January. We're takin' the Big Man and I can't wait. He's still chapped about not being able to go in the clubs when we were on Beale St.. Every time I go to work in Memphis...I have to explain to him that I am not going to Beale. I'm going to the boring part of Memphis. He never looks very satisfied with that answer.



I was maybe ten before I had a stereo of my own. Before that I carried a tape recorder around. The only cassette I had was a collection of  B.B. King's Hits. I just kinda took possession of it. Daddy didn't seem to mind too much.

He was up all last week.

Recently, Martha actually took some time to read the blog. "No wonder you love your job so much," she laughed..."your out there every day with your people." They're my Daddy's people too...and that's never lost on me.

As a kid, nothing tickled me more than his stories from the road. The seafood market owner that ran numbers...the murderous wives..."When you see that nigga you tell him I'm comin' to kill him"...collecting money in Jukes on a Friday nights...clearing out of a house with the owner because a snake had slithered into the kitchen. Nothing much has changed.



(Daddy was born in a house...probably deeper in the woods than Otis)

Macon, Georgia was the scene for a lot of these stories. The place has a kinda hold on him and he loves it but, I don't think it was always a happy time. He seems to have been kinda in between. He lived in efficiency and didn't own any more than could be thrown in an MGB...at short notice. Some clothes and a hi-fi.

He jokes about having pheasant under glass for Thanksgiving at Ocmulgee. Translation: sitting on the side of an Indian mound, drinking Wild Turkey...watching the river.




He laughs...a kinda squeezed cackle that I've inherited.

Cast of Characters

I think this has gone on long enough without y'all havin' some idea of what these people look like. These characters who work so hard to make my material existence the absurdity that it is...need faces.



Wren - A Southern lady of class and great taste...obviously.
She's also the wife of....



Allan - He is a distinguished professor of philosophy...here setting out to create what he likes to call "the beautiful negation." He's also an expert in claiming that my blog won't let him post.



Adam - A Northern (not a yank** the English kind) husband, father and archeologist...and electric guitar player. Ironically Adam is most well known for his hatred of rocknroll...you can see how passionate he is on this subject in his frequent rants against the Fall.



The Sister - This was the most gussied up picture I could find...musta been right after Church...maybe a wedding. Is anybody suprised to read that I recieved the following text from her lastnight..."Kiss my grits"?

(Disclaimer...to those who don't know. My sister, like the other ladies in this post is also a lovely and gracious Southern Lady...she does not smoke...even cartoon cigarettes, does not have a tatoo, and doesn't shop for herself at Baby Gap. She is good humored about everything except her fabulous looks.
The red hair though...is very real.
I aaam not wri-ting thiiis undeer dureeessss).



The Boy - What a rock star. (He doesn't wear that outfit everyday...his Momma won't let me get away with that...it was football team day at his little school)



Martha - the very lovely, beautiful, and gracious Martha...organizing something.

That's them y'all...that's what I'm dealing with.