Friday, February 27, 2009

The Paper

Headline in yesterday’s Jackson Sun…top headline…front page….


I’m sure the truck's family is glad to have closure so that they can move on with their lives.

Time now for the Real County Music lyric of the day….real lyrics heard on the real radio station that puts the bread on our table and the beer in our (well, my) mugs

lord this dont look good at all
that's my girl, my whole world
but that ain't my truck

The truck is survived by a Chevy Luv truck, two ATV’s and a minibike.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

The Never Ending Story

The website IMDB dot com lists this as being 94 minutes long. I’ve never seen this movie. Until today, when I looked it up and found it how long it was, I didn’t think I had the time to see it.

Other badly named movies…

Lawrence of Arabia…Not true. He was British.
All About Eve…Not even close. Just a few things about her.
It Happened One Night….Nope. It was fiction.
From Here to Eternity…See above. And by the time people saw the movie, “here” was later.
Modern Times….Not anymore. They TALK in movies now.
12 Angry Men…Not quite. Just 11.
The Last Picture Show…Not quite, although this would have prevented Cheech and Chong from making movies, which may have been worth it.

And finally, Goodfellas. No, they weren’t.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Rob Roy

1.5 ounces of Scotch
.75 ounce Sweet Vermouth
1 dash Bitters

Stir ingredients with ice, strain into a cocktail glass and serve. Garnish with a cherry.

Now, you would think that this guy Rob Roy MacGregor, a 17th century version of Jack Bauer/Clint Eastwood/John Wayne, must have been quite a tough guy to get both a movie and a drink named after him.

But, then again maybe not. The only other drink I can recall (at the moment) named after anyone is a Shirley Temple.

4 oz Ginger ale
1/2 oz Grenadine syrup
Twist of lemon peel
Thin slice of orange
2 or 3 ice cubes

Stir into a highball glass. Try not to laugh at the guy who ordered it.

Back before we got married, Holli would ask me to order her a Shirley Temple and then get up and go to the bathroom before the waiter came over. I think it was on accident most of the time.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Dirty Harry

Dear Inspector Callahan,

We here at Queer Eye for the Straight Guy are thrilled to hear you want to be on our show and can’t wait to meet you.

We know you will have a great time “hanging” with the guys while they make necessary suggestions in order to help you in areas of revamping your outdated wardrobe, redecorating your hideous apartment and offering much needed advice on grooming, lifestyle, and food. We’ll make you into a man that will be the envy of the department.

Of course, you know that our show is premised on and plays with the stereotypes that gay men are superior in matters of fashion, style, personal grooming, interior design and culture. Even Wikipedia says so. Well, to that stereotype, we say “bring it on!”

We’ll send along the “get acquainted” packet in a few weeks. And although we usually do the show in New York City, we would be happy to come out to Frisco, if you prefer. Just let us know.

Again, from all of us, we just want you to know that you’ve made our day.


Ted, Kyan, Thom, Carson and Jai

Monday, February 23, 2009


See note at the bottom...if you can stay awake that long.

The movie ends with a putt that hangs on the edge of the hole, but doesn’t go in for 51 seconds (or so) after it came to rest. When it finally does fall, the resulting “birdie” nets $80,000 for Al Czervik and Ty Webb, but had Lou Loomis (the referee of the match) been up to snuff, Danny Noonan would have ended up working in a lumber yard and Judge Smails and Dr. Beeper would have pocketed the 80 large.

I would think this ignorance of the rules on the part of Lou would have gotten him fired although he got everyone to agree to “waive sanction against said referee or anything that would get me (him) fired” prior to the match. But here’s the text of the rule, straight from the Rules of Golf.

16-2. Ball Overhanging Hole
When any part of the ball overhangs the lip of the hole, the player is allowed enough time to reach the hole without unreasonable delay and an additional ten seconds to determine whether the ball is at rest. If by then the ball has not fallen into the hole, it is deemed to be at rest. If the ball subsequently falls into the hole, the player is deemed to have holed out with his last stroke and must add a penalty stroke to his score for the hole; otherwise, there is no penalty under this Rule.

And back then, ironically, the rules were that if you didn’t do something within ten seconds, it was too late anyway and you got two strokes for your indiscretion.

However, since the match was considered won by Ty and Al and the Judge and the good Doctor failed to “claim the hole” prior to leaving the final green, it’s too late anyway to change the result.

Note: At one point in my pathetically boring existence, I was convinced that this sort of information would make for interesting conversations with my fellow movie viewers. I'm pretty convinced that I was wrong about that, but I guess it was better than me playing the banjo.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Broadcast News

Today the news department at Real Country decided to do the news at noon on location from the city hall.

Things went fine for about 40 seconds, at which time the line went dead. The fact that I was interviewing a state representative was embarrassing enough, but when you add on that he also owns a radio station, (our competitor in town) it made for extra shamefullness.

I got us back on the air for about four or five more minutes, enough to get my guest out of the way and the weather forecast done, but that was about it.

(Now, no one will know about the Revival at the United Pentecostal Church with Brother Price...unless they read this blog)

After my interview ended (and I no longer needed two microphones), I pulled the headphones out and just did the rest of the news on my cell phone. This was the safest thing to do to avoid more problems. But if you think people talking in public look like fools, how about the guy doing the weather forecast into his cell phone?

But just as I was beginning to get used to the stares, the line dropped and the broadcast ended abruptly as the phone hung up. I was in mid-sentence about jobs with the census bureau.

News Flash...Dial Tones Working in Bolivar!

I guess WE were the news of the day…local radio station manned by incompetents. Actually, the reason was a faulty cell phone and not enough bars, but the general public doesn’t know that. Instead we just looked like idiots.

I’m glad it’s Friday.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Peggy Sue Got Married

Another title that tells the story.

Holli and I have been thinking about getting a puppy and it got me thinking how much marriage is like getting a puppy.

In the beginning, everything is cute and even though there are a lot of changes in the daily routine and some extra time needed for pampering, it’s a lot of fun.

House training is a hit or miss proposition for a while. Sometimes there are messes to clean up, but since it is still in the learning stages, it’s okay. Eventually, you learn to communicate with one another.

After a while, though, expectations rise and you figure that it should know what it is doing and be able to understand you.

But with each success and failure, it’s just too cute to get too mad at for long.

(I hear the puppy is a challenge also.)

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Raising Arizona

A story of a childless couple that steals a baby from a family with quintuplets, figuring they wouldn’t miss one.

I guess way back in 1987, five kids out of one womb was a lot, but it might not make the news today. And the Arizona family can forget a TV reality show or any time on Good Morning America.

This John and Kate couple with 8 kids (six the same age) have set the standard for exploitation of children and free child care from camera crew members.

They act like they alone have this gargantuan task of raising eight children, but they have free help coming out of the woodwork (in exchange for being semi-famous, I guess). These freeloaders have people coming over to fold and put away their laundry for Pete’s sake.

Also, they do these “behind the scenes interviews” with just the two of them. What are the eight kids doing at this time? Don’t tell me one of the crew from Lifetime or TLC or whatever network is airing them don’t have an intern pulling her hair out in the other room arbitrating an eight-way “MINE!” dispute.

They are not raising eight kids alone. They get free stuff, free vacations, free everything and all they have to do is pretend there isn’t some kind of Truman Show kind of damage being done to their children with the 24/7 coverage of everything.

Because if they really were raising eight kids by themselves, the show would be much different. Without all the freebies and army of volunteers, they would wear the same clothes every day, shower about once a week, eat only off of paper plates, go to the landfill once a day with a truckload of soiled diapers, and swear at people for no reason. Also, bath time would be like the Poseidon Adventure and the father of this crew would have to knock off about three liquor stores a week to be able to pay for it all.

It’s not a reality show. It’s a pack of lies.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Color Purple

When I was in the golf business in Rock Hill, we had a shoe shine guy who was in this movie. He apparently was in one of the opening scenes throwing rocks. Every once in a while this movie comes on and I try to watch it to see if I can spot him, but I haven’t yet.

It’s time now for the Real County Music Lyric of the day…actual lyrics heard on the actual radio station that pays the bills for the author (and family) of this post.

The Lord knows I'm drinkin'; (the Lord knows I'm drinkin')
And runnin' a- round; (and runnin' around)
And He don't need your loud mouth informin' the town
The Lord knows I'm sinnin'; (the Lord knows I'm sinnin')
And sinnin' ain't right; (and sinnin' ain't right)
But me and the Good Lord's gonna have us a good talk
Later to- night.

Well, yes, that's my bottle and yes, that's my glass
And I see you're eye-ballin', this pretty young lass
It ain't none of your bus'ness, but yes, she's with me
And we don't need no sermon, you self-righteous woman,
Just let us be.

It’s the story of a man who makes Ike Turner look like Santa Claus and a woman whose life would have been vastly different if she had ever been out to the mailbox or stopped by the post office on a regular basis.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Say Anything

I don’t like these kinds of movies about teen angst over girls who just seem to be in a world of their own, far removed from logic or wisdom that is needed to carry them farther than the next half hour.

The guys in these movies are always thoughtful and caring and are played for suckers/losers/crutches/idiots by the girls that they show devotion to through gifts, acts of selflessness and too-long pathetic messages left on answering machines. Meanwhile, Little Miss Airhead is falling for the football player with an IQ of 87 or a future prison inmate.

(Years later, it was explained to me that girls like danger. I drove a 1978 Renault Le Car with a bad alternator and no hi-beam headlights. What could be more dangerous than that?)

Some of the movies (not all of them though), the girls wise up and end up with the nice guy. But by then (as I’m watching it), the damage is done to my psyche, having triggered memories of my teenage years wondering why, for example, Angela went to the prom with the pothead who drove a 1978 Pontiac Trans Am instead of me.

And while I’m over the rejection, it still doesn’t make any sense.

Friday, February 13, 2009

The African Queen

It’s a movie about a guy named Charlie with a boat and a British Methodist missionary woman named Rose who asks his help to blow up a German gunboat (it was WW I) down the river.

It’s unclear why a missionary was the best choice to blow up a German gunboat, but I suppose that’s why they made it into a movie.

The “African Queen” was the name of the boat, not (as I thought) a female monarch from Nigeria nor a cross dresser from Kenya.

Now Charlie does many courageous things to get the woman who needed a ride (and help) on her suicide mission and she shows her appreciation by dumping out all of his liquor and insisting he remain sober.

Anyway, they sail down the river and ready the boat for battle, but high winds and other boat-related complications (holes) sink the boat.

So now Charlie has no boat and no booze.

To pile it on even more, Rose and Charlie are then captured by the Germans and sentenced to death as spies.

Rose then asks, as a last request, to be allowed to marry Charlie. Charlie, since he was out of liquor, had lost his boat, and figuring he was about to be executed anyway, agreed.

(I'm sure this made the "til death do you part" stuff much easier to promise)

But in between the wedding and the hanging, the German boat runs over the sunken boat, blows up and Rose and Charlie escape.

We are left to wonder what happened next. But I bet it involved a shave and a haircut.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Doors

The story of Jim Morrison, his music and his hobbies.

I thought it was poignant that during the movie (on cable), they kept playing ads for drug and alcohol rehab facilities. This is what is called targeted advertising, I suppose.

The rehab facilities are always shown as nice shady lawns and benches to sit on while people stroll leisurely in white. It looks like a vacation. People bring you things and talk nice to you. I think if I went, I wouldn't want to leave.

The way I understand it, people take drugs to escape, to feel safe, to feel away from reality. So when you bottom out and admit you need help, they send you right where you were trying to go in the first place.

To me, rehab should be a brutish daily grind complete with a chain gang and hamburger helper for every meal. Nothing but water to drink. No cable. Low flow shower heads. And a promise that you’ll be back if you don’t kick the habit.

Otherwise, why would you try?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


A movie about a cop who goes to Alaska and can’t sleep because it is daylight most of the time. He then accidentally shoots his partner and instead of just saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he lies and says a one-armed man did it.

(well, maybe not a one-armed man, but he didn’t say that imaginary guy had TWO arms)

Now he can’t sleep because it is daylight all the time and he shot someone and is trying to cover it up.

It gets more complicated than this before the end, but the guy really never gets much sleep before he is shot and dies.

Of course, it’s rare to have a movie named after a disorder. But I found a few others and their taglines.

Anorexia Nervosa…Guess who’s not coming for dinner?
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity…Feels like the first time…but it isn’t.
Borderline Personality….You’ll Love it and Hate it!
Insomnia…Days never end. Nightmares are real. No one is innocent.
Narcissistic …Of course, it’s about you….
Obsessive-Compulsive…You’ll want to see it over and over and over and over…and over. And then one more time. For now.
Panic….A Story of Family, Lust, Murder ...and Other Midlife Crises
Paranoid …You can run, but they’ll be waiting for you to laugh when you get there.
Tourette’s….The &^%$%^&% best &!#@$^*()*&^% movie of the &%$&(^% year!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Bright Lights, Big City

A movie about a guy who tries drugs and REALLY likes them. It works out for a while, but 43 nosebleeds later, he decides he might want to try a different lifestyle. The movie ends before we find out if it worked out.

On that subject, (almost) I saw an ad today for the Tennessee Lottery that said “Play Responsibly” underneath the logo. Apparently, they don't want to have it on their conscience if you end up homeless muttering random daily six numbers in Wal-Mart. So asking you to be responsible takes care of that.

I guess I have to add this to the things I am being asked to do in moderation, like drinking, smoking, and as Holli may have noticed, being a kind and understanding husband.

Most products don’t have to tell people to not overdo it...I've never seen a reminder that “Beef Jerky and Pepsi are not part of a balanced diet.” This should be common sense. Should be. If I ever stop, I'll let you know how it works out.

But I have to congratulate the lottery folks. Your product must be a pretty good one when you ask your customers to keep their patronage to a minimum.

A dollar and a dream...

Monday, February 9, 2009

Wall Street

The movie where a guy and his dad play a guy and his dad. The guy lies, cheats and commits fraud in order to make himself a rousing success until he gets turned into the feds by his mentor when the guy has a pang of conscience and turns the tables on him.

After the feds come for him, they cut a deal. So the guy then wears a wire and gets the mentor to confess some stuff so the feds can get him too.

In the end, everyone that got rich is in trouble. The honest (???) people in the movie, like the guy’s buddy that got jealous of his success, were all portrayed as jerks and the women in the movie (except for the guy’s mom) were greedy, materialistic and quick to run for the door when trouble came calling.

Except for the jail part, it was like high school.

But don’t worry about trying to see it. Just watch the news.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Bowling for Columbine

I really miss bowling.

The pins just sit there and it's your job to try to knock them over.

I was in a league for a couple of years and loved the weekly grind of trying to help my team win while sneaking drinks of Coors Light (This was also before I realized how bad Coors Light was, but that's for a different time) between frames. Also, I loved the challenge of trying to find something at the alley to eat that wasn't deep fried.

It was a church league and you had to make sure the team you were bowling against were "cool" because some teams would get mad and try even harder to beat you if they saw you with a beer.

The alley was a smoke-free facility, but eating four chili dogs was okay.

One night, the child of one of my teammates lost Manny the Manatee (stuffed animal) somewhere in the alley. I, of course, sensitive to the plight of this little girl began to sing, "Oh manny, I lost you in the bowling alley..."

It's the only time her mother ever told me to shut up. She probably had wanted to before, but this time she gave into temptation.

And I know I deserved it.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Tin Men

I always thought this was a sequel to the Wizard of Oz, until I saw it. It’s about a guy who tries to sell aluminum siding to people using questionable sales tactics.

Proving that crime doesn’t pay, the guy gets caught by the people that catch the people who sell by fraud and deceit and he loses his aluminum siding selling license.

We take time out for the Real County Music lyric of the day…

We talk about your work, how your boss is a jerk,
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts.
We talk about the troubles you’ve been havin wit your brother
bout your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover.
We talk about your friends and the places that you’ve been,
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin.
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose,
And God knows were gonna talk about your clothes.
You know talkin about you makes me smile, but every once in a while,

I wanna talk about me, I wanna talk about i
Wanna talk about number 1 oh my, me, my,
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see.
I like talkin about you, you, you, you usually, but occasionally
I wanna talk about me! (me, me, me,) I wanna talk about me-e-e. (me, me, me)

We talk about your dreams and we talk about your schemes,
Your high school team and your moisturizer cream.
We talk about your nana up in Muncie, Indiana,
We talk about your grandma down in Alabama.
We talk about your guys of every shape and size,
The ones that you despise and the ones you idolize.
We talk about your heart, bout your brains and your smarts,
And your medical charts and when you start.
You know talkin about you makes me grin, but every now and then,

I wanna talk about me….

Anyway, he loses his wife too (she leaves him for another guy in the aluminum siding selling business…I guess they were rather plentiful), but didn’t seem too concerned about that. I guess another marriage license was easier to get.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Grosse Pointe Blank

Typical story. Kill-for-hire hit man decides to take up another lifestyle, but his former colleagues want him to continue, his competition wants to eliminate him and everyone else is somewhat appalled by his resume.

I’m sure his first job interview involved the question of what he had been doing for the last ten years, as “professional killer” usually keeps you out of the final interview pool. He probably left that un-filled in.

Having a gap in one’s resume is something we were told to guard against when we were youths. In other words, it was wise of me to not put in notice at Arby’s until the gig at Burger King was guaranteed.

But when I got to the “Home of the Whopper,” I found that I really missed the Roast Beef Sandwich, the Ham-n-Cheddar, and the curly fries back at Arby’s. The hours at the BK Lounge were less stressful, sure, but sometimes, I missed the pressure of having a busload pull into the parking lot.

I had left the Arby’s in good standing, but it didn't make sense to go back. I liked Burger King…but I wasn’t used to getting mayonnaise on my hands. And I was terrified the customers would just laugh at me when I asked, “Welcome to Burger King, Can I take your order?”

But it was like an ocean stood between me and my old life of making Mocha shakes. I’d thrown away my Arby’s uniforms and bought Burger King ones. I was committed to my new job. And sick to my stomach with uncertainty. There were a lot of Burger places out there and I was worried that my new place wouldn’t work out. I worried that I wasn’t the guy that could actually pull off “having it my way.”

So, for a while, I hid in the cooler doing inventory on pickles. I busied myself counting sesame seeds on the buns. I built a tower out of those cardboard crowns that reached all the way to the ceiling. I went to the dumpster for no reason.

I still don’t know how it worked out…

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Mississippi Burning

I don’t live in Mississippi.

But I went there on Sunday and found out that the Olive Garden in Tupelo* doesn’t serve wine (or beer or liquor) on Sundays. I found this out because a friend of mine wished to enjoy a glass of wine with her meal this past week. But it was Sunday, we were told. No boozing.

These kinds of laws make a lot of sense (sarcasm) because she really was torn between attending services and getting rip-roaring drunk while blaspheming.

I have no idea what this law is trying to prevent. It’s not like she then said, “I guess since I can’t get loaded let’s go find a church to attend instead of eating lunch.”

Now, I’m not 100% sure the crazy non-drinking Christians are the reason behind this one-day-a-week prohibition, but I’m willing to be 99.78% sure.

And if the public believes that these people represent accurately who God is (a Supreme Being with a bunch of rules and the desire to whack you when you screw up) the lie is even worse. This brand of legalism has God acting as a big Karma Doll.

I wish these zealots would cease telling me what to do (and when and where I can do it) and instead offer the truth. The grace offered to us by God through Jesus Christ is way better than the list of rules these idiots have “made up” in order to save me from myself.

If you don’t want to drink, don’t. I don’t care. But please keep your laws off my beverage choice.

*in Spanish that would be “your hair.” But, apparently, not of the dog.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Do the Right Thing

This tale of racial strife is a wonderful chance for interactive watching that is every bit as involved as going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. But in the spirit of "doing the right thing," watching this movie can be for your own good.

Every time someone says the F-word, do a sit-up. Please consult a physician before beginning this program however, as you will be doing no less than 200-250 sit-ups in a two hour period.

Improving your love life:
Then, every time, Sal says “This is my place!” or a reference to it being his place, you ask your wife what she is thinking (stop the movie) and listen. This should, depending, make the movie last about 4 and-a-half-hours. You will learn many new things and hopefully help you space out your sit-ups to a workable level.

Improving the Environment:
For every racial slur you hear, add something to your newly-created compost heap. It should be about three feet high when the final credits roll.

Improving your walk with God:
Every time the mayor has a beer, say a quick prayer. Don’t go on too long though, as you may miss some swearing, you may miss a racial slur or cause your wife to think you have passed out doing the self-improvement part of the interactive movie experience.

Have fun with it, improve your health, your relationships, the world around you and your spiritual life by watching Do the Right Thing. However, beware of just watching this movie as an attempt to be entertained. Because, on its own, it’s a complete waste of time.