For my niece and GlenR although it will make Dabney crazy.

Yes, I do these things to occupy my very crowded mind.

My childhood revisted:

Who’s up for coconut cream pie?

One of the sure bets of the digital age is nothing stays the same so, like Gilbert, I don’t mourn the change. The efforts that were ignited by broadcasting consultant Terry Heaton and Mike  Sechrist, then general manager of the Nashville station, however, were truly innovative and have continued to be.

Heaton,  Sechrist, Gilbert, Kleinheider, Grantham demonstrated that the future of media was as likely to be built or discovered in Nashville or Tennessee as in Silicon Valley or Silicon Alley. I’ve certainly studied what they were doing and borrowed unabashedly from their innovations.

I hope that spirit of innovation is not what is “going dark” at WKRN. It’s quite a legacy, quaint as it may seem to some.

I’m just going to say it. I miss those first giddy days of blogging and what Betsy said rings true to me as well.

From my perspective, when I was just starting out as a blogger, NiT was a huge deal. There was a vibrant community, people saying a lot of interesting things, and great discussion. The first few times you linked to me, I felt… I don’t know… really thrilled that some important media person was validating my ideas.

I agree. It was a fun time in Tennessee and if I hadn’t have been a part of that community, all the wonderful bloggers I know now I might now have met at all.

As I said at Speak To Power, it truly is the end of an era.

That’s been me for a bit. January was a sumbitch as the locals say, but February always comes in, gray and relentless, to kick me in the patootie. Don’t get me wrong, it’s just regular February stuff. I was talking to Homer the sister this morning and we agreed that most people have a little S.A.D. during this time of the year. Will we see the sun again? My sister and I are like day and night, but we are similar when it comes to cold. We don’t like it and it gives us the blues. It is what it is. I am actually more of a fall person, but damn it all if I’m just a tad more emotional than usual, a bit more sensitive in February. What I end up doing is hiding out. This, my friends, is my hermit month where I feel I’m waiting for something although I have no idea what it is.

Some of you may or may not know about a new blog that some of us have been working on called Speak To Power. I’m pleased with it thus far. We have a vision and we are all getting our sea legs under us as we work toward a common goal of unity.

With that said, I also read this post by one of us this weekend and I had to put the computer down and walk away from the online world for a bit. What I mean is, that once you read something that hits you really hard, it’s best to just take a step back. I keep thinking of the chili because, as I’m his friend, I knew that this would happen. The chili was representative of more than words can express. There are real people behind each and every blog you read. Human beings that feel joy and pain, despair and happiness. It’s our curse and our gift that we must endure such extremes.

It reminded me of, when my mother died 12 years ago this very month, that I sat in her closet, smelling her clothes and wondering what was to become of us.

What would we do?

I’m gonna tell you, I wonder about that each and every February.

The snow finally arrived late today and there were those few moments of giddiness as snow has not visited us much since Homer and my childhood years.  I do not know if it will stick, but I do believe that it makes the world brighter, like it’s cleaning the ground and hugging the trees.

Maybe the snow whispers to us that spring will eventually come back by giving us a clean, white slate.

If you watch this and not run for a tissue, you did better than I did.

I will be there. I have been told that I must support the Saints but I will also look joyfully at the Manning Boy (which I’m going to start calling him) and smiling if he does well.

I must be supportive because I’ve been bitching about not being able to watch football in Hoots on the weekend when I wanna. With that said, already making plans for the first Thursday of March madness because it’s my favorite. May have to go back to Memphis that day.

I am flaming my inner sports geek today even though I readily admit I jumped on the bandwagon.

I think I found something to guide my way through the dark tunnels of learning a new place and it’s called LunchBrag.

First of all, how did the groundhog and the woman get into a fight? Did the groundhog diss the woman’s mother? Was it over the love of another groundhog in some unseemly love triangle?

And why did this make the newspaper? So many mysteries around this one.

From Criggo

It used to be that the Butcher and I would drive around and we both had this feeling like there was something out there, in the cornfields, or just around the next corner, some itch you just couldn’t quite scratch, but it seemed like, if you drove fast enough or long enough, you might catch up to it.

But you never could.

But getting in the car and chasing it kind of soothed me, in a way.

I was talking to my sis this morning. We haven’t really caught up much lately as life had gotten into the way. When I read B.’s words, I thought of how when she and I were teenagers and we loved the wind in our hair metaphorically speaking.

As I get older, I think of what was, what is and what really happened.

I guess we create our own myths about ourselves, but it is wonderful to remember when life was an open slate. I guess I’m PhilosophicalComa today.