Quote of the Day “You can do that alllll night long.” Larry, to Smily one night a long time ago. I’ll have to put that story in print pretty soon if I can do it justice.
Travellinbaen sometimes feels like the only place he travels is Oxford. And that is where I spent my weekend once again. I have to admit, much as I wish it weren’t the case, I do like going there. It was especially nice this weekend. The fall and spring weather in Oxford are as close to perfect as can be found, and on Friday and Saturday, Oxford was at its best.
One of TB’s favorite pastimes is staring into space on a starry night, preferably with some spirits close at hand. Friday night I broke out a couple of bottles of wine that I’d been saving for a special occasion. The chance to sit on a blanket under the stars, way out in Taylor, Mississippi, where you can really see them, listening to a great band, was just such an occasion. The Kudzu Kings were referenced here several times last week and I guess karma had something to do with it. I haven’t heard those guys in years, but they still sound great, and they’re aging well. I could’ve sat there and listened, drinking and staring up at those stars all night long.
TB is pretty down on Mississippi in a lot of ways lately, but I gotta say, Friday night was one of those times and places where you’re thankful to be a Mississippian, and you know you’re experiencing something different than folks most anyplace else have a chance to do. You can’t plan nights like this, they just happen.
I spent most of the day Saturday in the fabled (and overrated) Grove at Ole Miss. The Grove is a place where people try to “plan” those special, “only in Mississippi” experiences before and after football games. There was a time when the Grove on gameday was unique, but now its just another tailgate place with people trying to hard to re-create the magic they felt back in the day. That’s not to say its not still fun. Lot’s of food and drink, pretty girls and obnoxious guys, and of course the sounds of football on the radio gently assaulting the ears from every direction make for a fun day. And if you skip the game to kick your feet back in the shade with a beer and just one more Abner’s chicken strip, you’ll never regret it.
I capped off my weekend at a small party with a most unusual guest list. The one most worth mentioning here was a guy from Long Island, New York. He only has one name, like Madonna. He’s about 100 pounds overweight, but still good looking somehow, and deeply tanned. His accent is beyond what any prejudiced southerner would consider possible, even for a yankee. He is an artist and a ladies fashion designer who formerly danced in renowned ballet companies, then trained under Marcel Marceau as a mime. He was gregarious and charming. Go figure. It’s a strange, beautiful world, especially when its 70 degrees and sunny in Oxford.