Always Looking For Answers

Posted on April 26, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Voice comes to you through a spell, a trance. The best voices are not you…they’re a little away from you.” –Barry Hannah

TB doesn’t know why. And that’s the problem I suppose. So I keep looking.

I have always had the nagging feeling that there was something I didn’t know that I should about things. As I age that nagging feeling attaches itself to more and more subjects. So as you may imagine, it upsets my apple cart a little bit when I come across new information that challenges an issue I thought was settled. Such was the case a couple of weeks back when I was browsing through Lemuria Books in Jackson, Mississippi. I went in to pick up the late Barry Hannah’s “Airships” collection of short stories. Just finished that, by the way, and, I don’t know. Can’t get some of those stories out of my head, but, I don’t know. Anyway….

I always browse through the latest historical works and on this day “The Imperial Cruise” by James Bradley caught my eye. James Bradley also wrote “Flyboys” about WWII flyers in the Pacific and “Flags of Our Fathers” which was inspired by the author’s own father who was one of the men photographed raising the flag on Iwo Jima. While I haven’t read either of these, I know they were well-received and popular. Bradley’s “bona-fides” as a WWII Pacific expert established, I picked up his newest to read the book jacket and the introduction. It is a story about a cruise commissioned by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1905. He sent his Secretary of War, Taft, 7 Senators, 23 Congressmen, his daughter and a host of other military and government figures on a tour of the Pacific Rim to lay the foundation for American power with respect to Asian world.

Teddy Roosevelt has long been the President I most admire. A Republican, but unafraid of big business, prescient about environmental issues, ahead of his time in calling for universal health care, and more; I see him as a visionary who either accomplished or laid the foundation for much of what America is and might be. I wrote about him once before here. But I’ll be dang if Bradley didn’t set out to tear down my notions of the man and his legacy. So I bought the book. If there is one thing I like less than finding out something that changes my opinion on a matter it’s being excluded from the very information that would change it. I don’t know if “The Imperial Cruise” will in fact change my opinion on Teddy, but it’s premise is that this diplomatic mission set in motion a course of events that led to war in the Pacific, Chinese communism, a fractured Korea and other issues that plague us to this day. If he makes a good case for all this, I’ll have to do a bit of thinking. I finished Chapter One last night. So far I’ve learned that Roosevelt and his oldest daughter didn’t get along and a short history of the long-since discredited and debunked theories of white supremacy. Enlightening already, though I don’t yet know how it ties in with his thesis.

Tangentially (at best) related to this is a story I came across about Stephen Hawking yesterday. It’s linked here. One subject that fascinates me to no end is the “universe” (and everything). But I don’t spend too much time thinking about it. Questions involving infinity and nothingness and antimatter and the like blow my mind. Then I get panicky and claustrophobic. So I avoid that. But the question of whether there is life out there doesn’t reach that level of mind-blowedness and that’s what Hawking’s recent remarks were about. Short answer, yes, he’s pretty sure they are there. The bad news is, he says if they come to Earth we are screwed. He says they will only be here to re-settle from their own screwed-up planet or to drain us of our resources. If that’s the case, they’ve got quite a surprise waiting for them! (*walks to window and dumps out quart of motor oil onto grass outside*) Take that, Vogons!

And finally, have y’all seen the Goldman Sachs emails? Jiminy freaking Christmas. Confirms everything I already knew about Wall Street. The bastards were selling junk investments, telling the buyers they were buying safe, conservative even, investments, all the while betting against those same investments and laughing like hell when they ended up profiting wildly on the inevitable crash. Where’s the Bull Moose when we need him?

Posted in current events, History | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Did Bill Maher Read TB Yesterday?….

Posted on April 24, 2010 by travellinbaen

Doubtful, but here he is from last night, April 23, 2010, making my chief point on American budget deficits, but a lot funnier. Unless you hate him. But even if you do, he makes a great point. And despite the perception of some, the defense spending hawks are not just Republicans, but almost all politicians and the vast majority of Americans. Hey, I don’t want us to become Uruguay, or even Britain militarily, and its a helluva lot of fun being the baddest bunch on the planet. But we can save a lot of cheese without losing that mantle. As I said, Bill Maher says it better:

Posted in current events, Humor, Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hag, the Russians, and a Spot of Tea

Posted on April 22, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

The video ain’t much, but it’s a new release so I was happy to find this tune at all. Haggard’s still got it friends. I’ve been wondering when a musician would capture a sense of the times like so many did back in the 60’s and even further back in the 30’s. It took an old-timer. This one nails it, no matter who you blame. They have been playing “Oil Tanker Train” on XM lately too. You will see the You Tube link to the right of this video. It’s damn good too.

TB isn’t a huge Merle Haggard fan, but I like him, always have. I saw him play one time in Starkville, Mississippi. He walked slowly onto the stage and looking at him back in ’90 I never thought he’d make it two more decades. Anyway, he said “good evenin”, sat down on a stool and played a dozen songs straight through without pausing. Then he said “good night” and walked off. It was awesome. Not many entertainers could do it that way.

My favorite Haggard story really has little to do with him. Sweet, a pioneer citizen of the TBU who is in the “import/export” game for several years had dealings with a group of Russian merchant mariners. They got friendly and began to exchange favors (easy Smily, not those kind). The Russians would bring Sweet “premium” cigars and Russian vodka and Sweet would drive them to Wal-Mart to load up on blue jeans and other cheap crap to take home and sell at a huge markup. One day Sweet was groovin’ to some Haggard and the Russians were quickly intrigued, soon after hooked. “Sweet,” they said, “who is this Mer-lee Ha-gard? Can we take his music back with us?” He showed them where to buy his CD’s at the Wal-mart and they loaded up. Some punk Russian teenager in Gdansk is probably at this moment crooning “Okie From Muskogee” and has no idea the reason can be traced back to Sweet and good ol’ Pascagoula.

Which brings me to the subject of Revolution. One of the features of blogging that’s particularly intriguing to me is seeing the search phrases people use to find our little universe. There are three that show up almost daily: Rooster Jones, Pascagoula sports, and the Russian prediction of an American civil war in 2010. Those looking for scoop on Pascagoula sports probably find something of interest. I think the “dam lies” thread has 400 comments or so, many with good info. But those interested in the purportedly approaching war are surely disappointed. Here’s the old post they get, and while I still think its mildly humorous, it ain’t one of my best. But it is the most often read. Looking at it again, I just couldn’t connect the Igor scholar and the Igor from Frankenstein artfully–that’s the big flaw–but I digress.

I wonder, is it foreigners or American tea partiers finding the post most often nowadays. It started off as Russians, but I think its of more American interest now. All this nonsense about secession and nullification, socialism and tyranny, and in a year when some 95% of Americans received a tax cut, no less. (see Politifact). In spite of so much blathering from the tea partiers that get on television, I actually agree with what I am charitably assuming is the chief point of the ordinary citizens who identify with them: that the government spends too much money. I DO wonder where these angry people were from 2000-2008. I DO wonder why they assume electing Republicans will address that issue. I DO wonder how many of them would be willing to discuss cutting military spending to achieve fiscal health, because if they aren’t they need to shut the hell up.  I DO wonder why those who endorse this primary goal are willfully blind to the heavy racist undertone of the loosely formed group’s messaging even when most of them are undoubtedly repelled by it. But as many problems as I have with them, I think they serve an important purpose. If they channel their energy intelligently, they could even end the two party system that forces us all to take a side and then ignore all the bs our side stands for so we can support the one or two issues we find most important.

If a truly economically conservative and intellectually honest party could gain traction I think it would necessarily lead to a truly liberal, intellectually honest counterbalance. If these new movements could get just 10% of seats in Congress, they could change the focus of many debates. They would even in all likelihood find themselves allies on certain issues, such as supporting financial regulation and opposing government mandated payments to private insurance companies. It sounds outlandish, but something similar is going on in Great Britain right now where an ultra-liberal third party is surging in the polls and an ultra-conservative fourth party has been steadily gaining for several years.

Of course, it could go the other way too. The Palin/Bachman crowd could lead us over the cliff. Then I guess Igor will get the last laugh.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

TB Goes to Southern Illinois….Really

Posted on April 19, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

” Live as one of them, Kal-El, to discover where your strength and your power are needed. Always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage. They can be a great people, Kal-El, if they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you… my only son.” Jor-El, father of Superman

This past weekend, TB had occasion to travel to Southern Illinois, as the title above seems to suggest. The Rambler, along with 6 others, was entered in the River to River Relay Race that takes place each year. Eight man teams, with each runner taking three legs of just over 3 miles per leg, cover 81 miles in the rolling hills between the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers, finishing in the charming village of Golconda. The Rambler et al were on a team aptly named “Two good legs and you’re hired.” If you do solve the math problem hidden above, you will see that hiring in the relay race biz was weak. TB for the record, did not meet the qualifications for the job, nor do I have the two good lungs that were equally important for team members.

So while the runners were, I guess, running all day, I went explorin’ the land between the rivers, following the Ohio River Scenic Byway. What I found first was the incredibly sad town of Cairo, Illinois. Once a bustling center of river commerce, the town is now quite possibly the most pathetic place I have ever been, and believe me, I’ve been. I didn’t count, but if there were 100 commercial buildings in town, 70 were derelict, 20 were operating, but in disrepair, and ten were government related. It was so bad I felt guilty about stopping and taking a photo, so I didn’t. I just hoped it would get better as I cruised the river road. And it did, somewhat.

The main thing that struck me on this drive is how rural and remote this section of Illinois is. As a Mississippian, I often assume the places I know in the Delta or North Mississippi are about as far backwoods as one can go. But the truth is, as my travels constantly remind me, this nation is still mostly rural, measured by area. What is sad is that so few places in the backcountry can support a livelihood any more. One town I passed through was still functional, but it looked to me like they were in the “hail Mary” stage of the game. First, they’ve turned to Harrah’s. They have one of those sorry little riverboat style casinos that uses all the leftover gear from more modern gambling halls and they target the locals and their gub-ment checks. But the real evidence of what this little town is up against was illustrated by its adopted hometown hero. They put a sign up touting him as one of their own and then they put up a badass statue for explorers like me to photograph by itself and for midwestern divorcees and their teenage daughters to stand beneath and fondle for the camera. On the courthouse lawn. And they renamed the square for him. Seriously.

Welcome to Metropolis

Good thing they didn't have him back in 1862

I saw a lot on Saturday and I won’t bore you with a long description of all of it though there were plenty of blank stares to share. But the short version is: Giant City State Park, a deer, three turkeys, a dead skunk, which Huck Finn would’ve really appreciated, a country general store with an almost legendary name, a classic midwestern water tower, a coon trespassing over a set of Indian burial mounds which would’ve blown Huck’s mind, and a soundtrack courtesy of Hillbilly Jim including John Prine’s “Standing By Peaceful Waters”, Jerry Jeff Walker’s version of “L.A. Freeway” and Bobby Bare’s “Tequila Sheila.” Oh, and I saw the end of the race in Golconda.

Here’s the photographic evidence. Sadly, that dead skunk was a little too fresh to approach.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The bottom line on Southern Illinois? It’s a nice place, prettier than you might think and interesting if you’ve a mind to look around. If you ever happen to be there, you oughta do just that. If you are planning a vacation this summer and you want somewhere beautiful and fun and unique and interesting, I recommend Oregon or Maine.

Posted in Travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Clyde

Posted on April 15, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Do not cease to drink beer, to eat, to intoxicate thyself, to make love, to celebrate the good days.” Egyptian Proverb

For some reason today TB got to thinkin’ back to my law school days, specifically the days passed in company with TDW at the old Holiday Inn Bar in Oxford, Mississippi. It doesn’t sound like a very happenin’ joint does it? Well, it wasn’t. But the place was run by an old black dude, well, old by my standards back then anyway, named Clyde. Clyde managed, tended bar, set out the complimentary hors d’oeurves, dispensed fresh darts, and wiped down the tables. At the Holiday Inn Bar in Oxford, it only took one dude to do all that you see. But the best thing ol’ Clyde did was disappear for long stretches.

I have no damn idea–check that–I have a couple of ideas but no actual evidence of what he did during those absences. Other than turning the place over to TB and TDW that is. Don’t get me wrong. If the place was hoppin’ on a given day, say the recently fired assistant football coaches had a table or an illicit romance was being conducted in the dark corner, you know, if three or more people were around, Clyde would do his thing on the scene. But so often, it was just TB and TDW and maybe a special guest drinker sometimes and when that was the case, Clyde would leave us in charge and go do whatever in the hell it was Clyde went to do.

Free darts, free snacks, the cheapest and cheesiest jukebox you ever saw–TDW still pats himself on the back for establishing the playlist/soundtrack of our law school years as “Me and Bobby McGee”, “Ain’t No Sunshine” and “I Touch Myself”–and unlimited access to the kegs–for TB and TDW, it was like a home away from home. But better than home what with the free food and unlimited beer. And we never even really talked much to Clyde other than to say hello and so long. He was just a shrewd judge of character, and he decided after it became obvious TB and TDW were gonna keep showing up that he liked us. How do I know? On about about the fourth or fifth trip Clyde disappeared on us for the first time. Becoming thirsty, we naturally helped ourselves to pitcher after pitcher of cold, refreshing, less filling beer. When it was time for us to stumble on our way Clyde was back in place behind the bar. “Ten Bucks!” he said as we gave him the “let’s settle up” sign. Well TB and TDW were then, as now, more or less honorable types. “Nah, while you were gone we had several pitchers. Several. Like, we quit counting after three.” We were not, after all, so honorable as to say “eleven, plus we each took a turn drinking straight from the tap.”

“Ten Bucks!”

“You sure?” This was too good to be true. We gave him twenty and he passed back ten.

“Ten Bucks!”

“Thanks Clyde, you are the man. We are coming back here forever.”

And so we did. And it was always ten bucks. I don’t know why he liked us. The only thing I can come up with is he really liked TDW’s taste in music.

Posted in Life, Mississippi, People | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Deep Thoughts

Posted on April 14, 2010 by travellinbaen


  • It is an inviolable principle of Philosobaenism that rules are meant to be broken.
  • I think “Dress Barn” is probably the worst name for a retail shop of all time. Yet they are ubiquitous. Honorable Mention to “Dry Creek Water Park”.
  • “Trying to think of a good simile is like….hard.” This came to me one day in a moment of clarity while trying in vain to make an apt comparison.
  • “Hypocrisy and cliché are anathema to TB.  But then again, there’s a time and a place for everything.” This came to me one night in a spasm of genius. I’ve been carrying it around as a note on my iphone and decided to use it today.
  • 42. If you add the numbers, you get “6”, which is the number of beers in a six-pack. It is the only number retired by every Major League Baseball team, in honor of Jackie Robinson. However, it is still worn by Mariano Rivera of the Yankees. See above regarding “rules”. Furthermore, the 42d song in Itunes under Willie Nelson is “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain.” Episode 42 of “Lost” is titled “Lockdown”. Blows your mind, doesn’t it? If you haven’t yet read “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” by Douglas Adams, I implore you to do so as soon as possible. Within 42 days for sure. The first person to make a reference to this classic that I get, in a randomly appropriate post, of course, will be rewarded. Possibly with poetry.
  • “The best way to go see a girl is not to go see her.”  This profound truth is no longer important to me, other than in the sense that I am always affected by profound truths. Best I recall I got this from “The Moviegoer” by Walker Percy.  My quotation is inexact.
  • “A simple and independent mind does not toil at the bidding of any prince.”    This is an exact quotation from “Walden” by Henry Thoreau, the Quote of the Day in fact. (Note breaking of TB rule in placement of today’s QOTD). I wrote it down last summer while enjoying the first part of this classic of American literature before I bogged down in boredom from the middle of this classic of American literature. I think I’ll try to finish this classic of American literature this summer. There might be another deep thought I’ll want to borrow.
  • If you are not very impressed with today’s post, congratulations, you are normal. If however you found someplace within where a chuckle was formed, or even a wry grin, and it was not directed at TB but rather with him, my condolences. You ain’t right.
  • Dedicated to MD, and this song by Tom Russell has a line it that I consider a profound truth. Listen for the “fundamentalist” verse.
Posted in Humor, Philosobaen | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

TB’s Anti-Dentite Manifesto

Posted on April 7, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Some tortures are physical, and some are mental, But the one that is both, is dental.” –Ogden Nash

I hate those kitten posters tacked by the window or even worse on the ceiling that say things like “Smile”.

I hate the big window. I hate the birds outside it who can fly anywhere they like and will never have to sit in the chair.

I hate the magazines, even the ones I normally like, and especially “Highlights” Magazine, which I never even liked as a kid.

I hate being asked the same inane questions twice a year and being reminded “we haven’t done x-rays in a year” as if I didn’t already know and in a tone that falsely suggests I have some choice in the matter of whether “we” do them today.

I hate the sharp hook and the sound it makes on my teeth and the agony it inflicts on my gums.

I hate the sound of the water swirling around in the miniature sink to my left, the one they quit letting me spit in back in about ’89. I hate the banal, one-sided conversation coming from the cleaning chair next door. I hate the smells, the certificates, the gritty paste.

I love the miniature cold water hose that washes away the gritty paste and that took the place of Dixie Cups and spitting back in about ’89. But I hate the miniature vacuüm they use to suck all that refreshing cool water out before I can get a drink.

I hate being judged on the quality of my gums and the efficiency of my flossing. I am not a monster. You can’t pigeonhole me.

What I hate most of all is that I can never win. Every six months, there I am, sitting in that chair waiting on the verdict. Do I get another six-month reprieve or will I be sent to the drillin’ room? I really hate that if I get the drill I have to fret about it two weeks before getting it over with. I hate that drill. I really, really hate that “it looks like part of a filling has broken off.” I’m glad he “doesn’t see any decay.” I’m glad he thinks we can “push back replacing it for awhile.” I hate the inevitability and the uncertainty that diagnosis conveys. I hate that in 6 months I have to endure all this mental and physical torture again and its as if today’s success was but a mirage.

And the hell of it is I like every dentist I’ve ever known, even Waldo who once laughingly boasted that “pulling a tooth is the most barbaric act in all of medicine.” And one day I guess they’ll want to try that on me. But for the next six months I’m clear. So I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.

I guess I have to admit one thing. I like that my Mother insisted I live this way. I like that I still have good teeth, for the most part. Because I’m pretty certain I would hate a root canal.

Posted in Humor, Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

The Butler (Bulldogs) Didn’t Do It

Posted on April 6, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.”     —Napoleon Bonaparte

Southerners more than any other group of Americans know how to take pride in glorious, gallant defeat. We have created an enduring mythology around the concept. In that tradition, we in Mississippi who know more about glory and gallantry in defeat than any other Southerner, have extended our admiration of the idea from war to athletics. Almost always the underdogs, we cheer our teams lustily when we pull off a major upset. More often we curse the fates (and the referees) when we end up an inch or a basket the wrong side of victory and honor our heroes who faced the longest of odds and nearly overcame them. We retell the stories of bitter defeat (and those occasional triumphs) at the best damn parties to be found. I hope the full-time Butler fans had a helluva party last night and I know they will tell the tale about how they almost shocked the world for years to come.

But here’s the bad news. Almost winning it all is a damn dubious accomplishment. In fact, it really ain’t worth a damn. Yeah, it was a great run. Yeah, I wish my team could do it. Yeah, they played great. Too bad. They failed to close the deal. Just like General Pickett. Instead of making history, they made a footnote. Nobody reads footnotes. I doff my cap to Butler. Your team played with gallantry and brought you a measure of glory. Today, your fame endures. Enjoy the pain. I know it is exquisite. Tomorrow you are forgotten. Take it from me. I’m a Mississippian and I know these things.

Bonus Quote of the Day:

“If you ain’t first, you’re last.” –Ricky Bobby

Posted in Philosobaen, Sports | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Man With The Golden Watch

Posted on April 2, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“In the morning a man walks with his whole body; in the evening, only with his legs. –Ralph Waldo Emerson

The early spring weather is so perfect right now, except for the unbearable pollen. I was reminded, before the sneezing commenced, of a morning in Key West of some years ago and decided to try and write it down. But I’ve never owned a golden watch.

——————————

It was way too early to be wide awake, the sun barely seeping through the tiny crack in the curtains that in places like this could never be completely sealed. He felt good in spite of the hour and in spite of the intruding ray, so he got up. He walked over to the sink and splashed his face. Then he tore the plastic cup out from its protective cover and took his two morning pills with a swig of water. He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and tried his new ball cap. Then he took it off again. It just didn’t look natural and the man couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t find a cap he liked any more. There was a time he hardly recognized himself without one. He slipped on his gold watch out of habit, opened the heavy door and held it with his foot as he tossed the paper back into the room and replaced the inevitably fallen “do not disturb” hanger on the doorknob.

There was nobody outdoors yet. Nobody else, anyway, but the sun was rising quickly so they’d be out soon. A hint of chill lingered, though the hot currents that would soon predominate almost visibly ate away at its edges like piranhas attacking a nearly bare carcass. The man looked at his watch but failed to note the time as he turned the corner. A block away a young lady with a ponytail and a long white apron was setting up cafe tables on the sidewalk. They had already flung open all four sets of doors and a few tables were occupied inside away from the dew and the remnants of the chill night. The place had vitality and it looked carefree, it matched his mood. So he went in and sat down at a table where some kindly soul had left a gently used, neatly folded newspaper. He scanned the front page, then looked at the front of  “Sports”, “Life”, and “Perspective” and thought idly how considerate the unknown stranger had been to remove all the ads before deciding there was nothing in it for him and tossing it to the empty table one over where it spun once and then stopped perfectly in the center. The man smiled, pleased.

The girl with the ponytail came and took his order, pleasantly, disinterested and unobtrusive. Except she glanced at his gold watch, incongruously matched with his battle worn t-shirt and shorts, his unkempt hair and three-day stubble. He wasn’t offended because he felt good, but he was self-conscious about it now so he took it off and massaged his naked wrist. He imagined what the waitress would think if he left it for a tip because he was a sentimental romantic at heart. A dairy truck changed gears out on the street as it crossed through a puddle and the sound made him happy. As it disappeared from hearing, relative quietude reigned again briefly, broken by the shrill cry of a gull swooping down for a crumb and at almost the same time a car horn sounding far away, an amiable blow, he instinctively knew. Nobody lays on the horn in anger this time of day, except occasionally the milk truck driver, but he’d been up longer than anyone else so it was understandable.

The man finished breakfast and left cash on the table plus twenty-five percent, give or take, but slipped the gold watch back on his wrist, because he knew better. In an instant he’d changed his mind and instead put the watch in his pocket and then flexed the fingers of his weightless left hand while with his right he grabbed his bottomless drink for one last sip. He paused by one of the wide-opened doors. There was one of those souvenir animated type maps on the wall and he studied it. A beaded line of sweat formed at his hairline and he scooped it up with two fingers and flicked it out at the sidewalk, immediately thankful he’d aimed away from the girl with the ponytail who’d come up beside him unnoticed.

“You need directions, honey?”

He smiled at her wondering how each new generation of waitresses managed to adopt such clichéd and antiquated phraseology he knew they’d never dream of using at the clubs. Convenience store clerks called him “Honey” too, but you didn’t see them in clubs. He ran his left hand through his hair because he knew he looked rough and thought somehow that would help and because he wanted her to see the problem of the intrusive gold watch had been addressed.

“Yeah, I probably do, but I don’t want to ask.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders and turned to her business as the man sauntered resolutely away.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , | 8 Comments