NewscomaGot A Two-Pack Habit And A Motel Tan

So, you know, I want to work FOR Daisy Fae. She likes dogs, she’s cool and she digs Puffins.

This is a love story.  Strange… Unexpected… Hideous and inexplicable in many ways.  But a love story nonetheless.

It started with my trip to Iceland in 2007.

I’ve only been as far as Copenhagen. Iceland calls me.

And I dream of puffins.

*or a Puffin hat.

** Mabel looks like Opus.

*** I want a penguin or a puffin to live with me in Hoots.

**** Mabel still wants secretary of steak.

First, I need to say I’m sorry to Killa who along with the rest of the staff at our humble abode have some sort of  Typhoid. Squirrel Queen and I want all of them to know that this virusy thing you gave us was very pleasant on our way home from an overnight trip and I-40 may never be the same. All I can say is that if this was a Stephen King novel called “The Stand” and this was Captain Trips, all of you would be infected.

Second of all, Hoots has gotten all fancy in my brief absence.

Thanks to the efforts of local artists, Robert Nunley and Les MacDiarmid, as well as many others who share their vision,

The Arts Co-Op will offer a variety of artistic endeavors—

painting, pottery, woodworking, photography and more.  And according to Les, who I spoke with while visiting the shop, there are plans after the first of the year to also host exhibits of guest artists.

Go see what I’m talking about as Leslie even has pictures.

Whilst blogging, sometimes I think about little things that I like that I want to write about. With more of the locals reading this blog, I have to tell you, sometimes that’s a bit overwhelming. So bear with me as I soak that in.

So, I will tell you thinks that I’ve noticed recently that I think need attention because it’s good:

1. I got to work early as roosters were cursing me because I woke them up and Killawatt had everything done that I needed to do for an advertising supplement. It looked really good and she did a fantastic job. This gave me a happy. We drank coffee, talked about her life and mine before the other employees came in and despite a horrendous day yesterday, things turned out more than all right.
2. I listened to local farmers regale each other last night about bringing in their harvest and there was something so real and true about it that I found myself a bit in love with it all.
3. I was accepted by someone I never thought would give me a chance, and I realized it was the stereotypes in my mind that were the problem. It was a nice meeting of the minds.
4. I saw my buddy Dirk Diggler today at my favorite convenience store where I don’t have to ask for what I want because they already know. We all smiled, paid our money and moved on.
5. My niece came home from school after vomiting in a trash can. Yeah, that wasn’t cool but she was better after awhile and she looked young and sweet and I wanted to hug her but that’s not allowed as she is a tween.
6. The dogs have been laying on me for awhile and Mabel barked at Wolf Blitzer which just makes her more charming as he startled her nap. Why did she bark, I do not know?
7. Editorbates has followed a court case from beginning to end. Her passion about it makes me very excited for some reason. To follow something through the whole entire process and to be diligent about it commendable.
8. I saw Jagosaurus‘ picture of a squirrel eating a french fry and I liked it.
9. Sometimes I walk to the grain mill in town and take pictures. I don’t tell anyone.
10. I realized today that someone came to see me because they really wanted to hear what I had to say. I was surprised and delighted at the same time. We talked about the local economy, politics and growth of Hoots. It was delightful.

My friend Chris is in the photo and is calling the Skyhawks game tonight in Knoxville in a photo from last week with his son, Grayson. I’ve been his friend for years and it’s kinda cool seeing him working and parenting at the same time. Yes, Grayson and I had some potato chips:

Life isn’t too bad when you put it in perspective.

I’m going to tell you a story that you aren’t going to believe and that is, although I’m an extremely social person (usually in juke joints where I can let my hair down and I’m not judged for it) I like staying home on Halloween.

Halloween is my favorite holiday. When I was a kid, my dad would call me his little pumpkin because I was born in October. Or it could have been that I was shaped like a pumpkin. One never knows.

We were never really a pumpkin carving kind of family. My mom just didn’t like the mess but I enjoy seeing other people relish in getting their carving on.

The youngest niece who we call Bear announced last week that she wanted to be a hooker for Halloween. Homer, who is a great mom, didn’t say anything as Bear was just trying to get a rise out of us. I asked Bear, who is 9-years-old, where she got this idea and did she know what a hooker was.

“Aunt Tick, they wear really high heels and date lots of boys,” she said gleefully.

I don’t think she fully grasped what hookers actually do with the boys but Homer went on a diligent Halloween costume hunt without making a big deal out of it.

Bear will now be a Monster Bride.

So, I’m probably going to avoid the parties on Halloween and stay home alone, watching my beloved horror movies and cuddling with Mabel, Duff and Kirby while trying to get the big dog to avoid eating Trick-or-Treaters.

Tis my way.

We do benefits. Lottie had to cut 1/3rd of the kids she usually helps at Christmas. So Tyson is giving us chicken, Budweiser is doing a beer tasting, Dirk Diggler is grilling said chicken and we are raising money.

Yep, we all do our part in Hoots! So if you are around Hooterville on Saturday, stop by and see us.

I’m too old to be driving to Nashville and back to Hoots in a 24 hour period.

Just saying.

Although, if you blog, I really suggest that you head to some blogger meetups or organize them, no matter where you are.

You will find that they are magical.

Oh, and I’m holding these glasses of Wage’s hostage so some of all of you guys will come to Hoots and go out w/ Mabel and me on a pub crawl.

As a political junkie that occasionally plays armchair pundit, I just need to say that for the first time last night I realized with wild abandon that November 4 cannot get here soon enough.

I have a lot of acquaintances and friends who I think very highly of but sometimes I have to listen to political rants. The one I heard last night was epic. It was my friend. I dig this guy but I have to tell you, when I told him I didn’t want to talk politics over an adult beverage, he just kept on. I was nice but, in all honesty, talking politics over a bar is not one of my favorite things to do when the ranting starts.

You know me, I love a conversation but when someone is a bit angry, I check out mentally and look for the exit sign.

You see, Jane get it so right in this post that I just want to drive to Nashville and shake her hand because I wish he would read her post (he’s not a blog dude though.) It was what I wanted to say last night. I tried but it wasn’t a conversation. It was a monologue and I was the audience.

People just have to agree to disagree.

And I was saved, fortunately, by my new friend Dababa who very cleverly got me out of nodding and sighing because by that point I had zoned out like those zombies I know and love.

Listen, my fellow left-leaners, if you don’t want to vote for Barack Obama, don’t, but could you at least write-in Hillary Clinton if that’s your choice.

I mean seriously. And if you are going to forcefully talk at me over adult beverages, could you at least buy me a beer or something?

Shesh.

A few of us are doing a fundraiser to help out the local American Legion buy coats for kids at Christmas. They have done it about twenty years and we decided, hey, what the heck. Maybe we can help out a little bit.

So, my friend Gator, which is not his name but when I asked him what he wanted to be called here, he said this was his nickname when he was in high school. Gator it is. Anyway, I think he loves his grill more than breathing so he’s decided to put on his chef hat on Oct. 18 and grill chicken for the fundraiser at Mabel’s favorite bar, The Stable.

As we went over details last night, foraging through intense budgets and how we were the grooviest cats in town, I told him I was going to see if Tyson would donate 30 chickens?

“30 Chickens?” he looked at me. “I can’t grill 30 chickens. You are going to have ask for quarters.”

I realized that I was being a bit over the top when he gave me a look that combined amusement and frustration at my lack of grilling skills.

So I asked Gator to write down what he wanted me to get.

He gave me this:

He was laughing when he gave it to me. I think his disembodied chicken is one of the finest drawings I’ve ever seen.

Also know, he told me not to put it on this blog, which he has recently began to read. I did it anyway.

Heh.

I went back to work full-time yesterday still coming off the ‘roids which gave me a killer headache. I’m not a headache person so I felt like my eyes were falling out, but it was fine.

In Hoots, we are holding the 15th Annual Tennessee Soybean Festival. (Incidentally, Laura Carson, who I pointed out on Sunday, didn’t win the Aimee Mann contest but did win the Best Overall Preliminaries at The Bean’s Talent Show and will be competing in the Mid South Fair in Memphis.She’s also going to see her idol tonight in Nashville. So here’s a shout out for her.)

My cunning plan yesterday was to go and hang out with the carnies who were setting up. I am enamored with carnies every since I saw Robbie Robertson be one in the movie “Carny” but I didn’t see anyone who looked anything like him.

Man, they were a surly bunch.

My aim was to talk to someone who might be from New Orleans as the name of the carnival outfit was Crescent City Amusements. In a moment of trying to dig up a story, I thought someone here would have some insight on Hurricane Gustav. They are from New Orleans but none of the actual carnies are. No dice and they pretty much told me to scram. One female carny told me to basically get lost. So I went and got Badger Beth and returned. Not that Badger could do anything, I just wanted a witness to the snide glory of it all.

Well, they told me three times, so I kept going back. The carnies were not fond of me, so harassing them seemed like a good idea as I apparently needed their approval and adoration. Random Question: Every year they put up a “Help Wanted” sign.

The Sign From Last Year

Should I apply?

Anyway, in my steroidy head, I decided to go up on top of a building where I could take a picture. However, there was no building to be found and I looked for a couple of hours. (Problem is that many of the building are boarded up.) I’m going to haunt the roof of the local library today. It’s my last best shot.

So, we are honoring the glories of the Soybean. It’s pretty much a fun event.

One thing I think the organizers of this event got right was that there are three nights of entertainment in a stage built smack downtown. Thursday night, Corey Smith is performing (which I hear the college students are stoked about although I have to admit I wasn’t familiar with him.) Friday night, Marshall Tucker and Saturday is Lonestar. So I guess there is something for everyone.

I roamed around as the stage was being built, eyed the carnies who wanted no part of me (WHY DON’T THEY LOVE ME?) as, of course, I’m smitten with them and took some more random shots around town. I checked in at Cadillacs, where some of you know, to see if my zombie-inspired darts had come in yet (They haven’t) and was going to head back to my beloved carnies but Squirrel Queen put a stop to it.

She is more reasonable than I am.

So, I’m guessing this is a Hooterville Exclusive.

I’ve sort of been in a cave for the month of June in an angry, bitter battle with my very own psyche that has given me internal chiggers.

Yay. I suck.

Steve Austin is still missing in action, I’ve got a wicked sinus infection of some sort so I’ve been taking random antibiotics just lying about the house that I think were for a UTI or for ailments which could be anything from Cootie protection to PMS help which is only known to the Gods, but I digress. Due to the lack of wheels and motivation, I’ve had to put the Goosepond Swamp Monster excursion on hold. All I know is that I feel like platypus vomit.

So I’ve been wondering about the innertubes, whining to my friends as I am human and then staring at a pair of yellow Crocs that I haven’t worn in over a year thinking this might give me some sign. Yeah, that’s my kind of interior design, campers. The Official Church of the Smelly-Assed, Ugly Crocs has given me no visions other that I probably should just throw them away.

I also bought a 24 oz can of Miller Lite the other day, not once but twice, which means I’m just too damned depressed or becoming a crazy dog lady with an inclination to ugly shoes.

Anytime that I believe anyone is planning life changing ideas, it can get very easy to hold on to the familiar that isn’t really healthy or productive as a lifeline. Here’s what I mean. It’s easier to do nothing and be angry/martyred about it then to DO something.

In the past year I have been trying to learn things outside my box. I fail sometimes, other times I do all right.

The one thing that escapes me is that after a very sad journey last year on a project that was halted before it even got up and started, I lost my mojo and became afraid of …. dun dun duuuuuun …

Technology and Movement.

I’ve been reading and trying to train myself but I think I’ve gone as far as I can go on my own. Now, I follow a ton of technology geeks who embrace their geekdom where I’m more of a pop culture/news/political geek. I don’t understand why Dave Winer and some guy named Loren are fighting on Friendfeed over some other guy named Shel Israel.

It seems very insidery to me and involves puppets.

You can’t make this up but I think it goes further than that.  I don’t understand the monetization of a website as well as I would like but I’m trying to learn. I may not be a techie but I am a pretty good DJ blogger for lack of a better term. I hear a lot of talk about rankings (I have a Google Page Rank of 5. I didn’t know what that meant until about two months ago. I also know I have 273 reactions on Technorati.) I think that’s alright, isn’t it?

I also know I like Brie, Import beer and sushi which I cannot get here in Hooterville, and yes, I’m still digressing.

I realized, in my daily ramblings though I do know one thing, and that is people. I’m not perfect but I forgot that was a pretty good skill to have. I’m a good listener when I can hear. (Heh, heh, I crack myself up.) I also am pondering the same life changes I was looking at a year ago. I think it’s time for me to shut up and do.

So, it’s an annoying autobiographical pause. I would like to thank Badger, SQ, Russ, Ivy and Ginger for listening and supporting me. This is a thank you to all of you.

And now that I’m done processing the unprocessable (I just made up a word. Yay Me!) go over to Sharon Cobb’s and wish her well. She’s having a rough time and everyone needs a kind word now and then.

Go on.

In an effort to save money, I’ve been carpooling. It’s not convenient nor is it fun but I’ve been doing it because right now it’s just a smart thing to do. In a small town and a county that has less people than let’s say Donelson in Nashville or Mid Town in Memphis but much more acreage, there is no public transportation.

You cut where you can.

I’ve heard from three different people asking me why my car has either been sitting in the driveway at Chez Coma or why sometimes I leave it at the office and ride with SQ. When I tell them I’m saving money on gas by riding with someone else or they ride with me, I get some weird looks.

You see, cars and trucks around here are tools and necessary. And for some folks it’s their identity. For me, I could care less as long as I get where I need to be. And I find it so peculiar that me not driving as much has people talking. It’s not that interesting actually.

The one thing about where I live that bugs me is the lack of sidewalks in my neighborhood. When I was a kid, our next door neighbor was plowed over by a car and died just up the road from where I live now. I do not walk on the highways here. It freaks me out. But I digress. (Reliving childhood moment, pardon me for a second.)

When I lived in Montreal and Amsterdam, I walked everywhere and I loved it. I took the trams, the underground, trains and buses. It was no problem and to be honest, I liked it. I was in the best shape of my life. Of course, when taking mass transit, you have to be scheduled or you will be sitting in the middle of nowhere at 3 a.m. I learned that lesson quick. It takes just one time to get it.

Needless to say, reading Brittney Gilbert’s adventures in mass transit makes me a bit nostalgic.

Back to carpooling, it’s something that I believe is saving me some dough-re-mi. And why this is on my mind this morning I have no idea but I do know that it does make a difference as the price of a gallon of gas is something that in my household at least, has to be put into the budget and that even driving 60 miles round trip just up the road goes off in my brain with a cash register ring that says 8 bucks.

I’d get a scooter but Homer and Squirrel Queen have nixed it.

“You will die,” Homer has said more than once. “And I’m not cleaning it up.”

“But it will save gas,” I argue.

“You have no coordination, Newscoma,” Squirrel Queen always says giving Homer a look where I know they’ve been talking about it. “Seriously, you can’t even walk without there being an incident.”

There is truth in this statement so instead of fussing I just do what everyone needs to do at least three times a year.

I pout. It only makes sense.

So, as my car sits at certain times, I’ve decided to make up elaborate reasons of why it’s parked instead of telling the truth that I’m carpooling because for some reason that is beyond my grasp, people just don’t like that answer.

I’ve decided to say Homeland Security is making me park it in a master plan to catch Guatemalan drug dealers.

That’ll get folks talking.

Last week, I was feeling like I lost my mojo. I was a bit disconcerted, not a bit of fun to be around and just felt peculiar and odd. It was one of those times that I just couldn’t get my rhythm.

Have you ever gone through that? It’s very strange. I just felt tired and cranky and a bit depressed/angry. Friday night, I felt really strange. It was almost like my head was coming off my brain stem.

Well, there must have been a reason I’m finding out.

Squirrel Queen, the nieces and I have had a lovely bout of the flu this weekend. As none of us could lift our heads off the cool tile of the bathroom, the idea of going to a doctor was not possible.

We are talking a house full ‘o sick.

I feel as bad as bloated up roadkill on one of our roads here in Hoots.

I would give you the lowdown on the nastiness, but I’m thinking you would sort of gross out. God knows I have.

Just hoping the week doesn’t kick my hiney this week. Bronchitis and now this is making me wonder if I need to move to Arizona or seriously forget about a life coach and get a damned doctor’s visit.

Bear with me, campers.

For some very good reading about small business and the election, go see Vibinc.

And then go over to Squirrel Queen’s. And then hit Jack’s for a really good essay on news and the Internet which is fierce.

Going to pass out in front of the game.

Send Squirrel Queen and I reinforcements if you don’t hear from us.