Thursday Pickin Season II Week 13

Quote of the Day:

(to be determined)

Happy actual Thanksgiving Day everyone. TB’s livin it up in Key West, family style. We’re getting ready to take a “Power Adventure Cruise”–full details later this weekend or when I get back home. Unfortunately, that’s also when the results from last week will get posted. Suffice it to say, all the lead dogs bit the dust last week so it’s goin down to the wire. Here are my picks for this week:

Link to Sheridan’s Odds

  • Pitt    Even
  • Temple  -3
  • Tennessee  -3
  • Georgia  +7′
  • BC  -6′

POTW–THE Mississippi STATE University Bulldogs +8

Go To Hell Ole Miss Song List

  • Jealous Again–Black Crowes
  • Redemption Song–Bob Marley
  • Pump it Up–Elvis Costello
  • Shake Em On Down–North Mississippi All-Stars
  • We’re Going to Be Friends–White Stripes
Posted in Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Happy Thanksgiving, Universe

Quote of the Day:

Everything I eat has been proved by some doctor or other to be a deadly poison, and everything I don’t eat has been proved to be indispensable for life.  But I go marching on.” George Bernard Shaw

TB’s sittin on a balcony in Fort Lauderdale this fine morn overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, a bright, hot sun still rising and cooled every few moments by a series of marsh-mellowy cumulus clouds slowly drawing across a palette of pure blue. The clouds are all fat today, some light, white and fluffy, others dark,gray, and bloated  and your chronicler is right there feeling kinship with the latter. We dined in Ybor City Sunday night at the Columbia, supposedly the oldest restaurant in Florida. For TB, a crusty-soft loaf of bread to sop up flank steak cooked in a mixture of rioja soaked mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, onions, potatoes and chirizo, all washed down with a pitcher of table prepared brandy spiked sangria. Then last night we ate at Casablanca Cafe on the beach in Fort Lauderdale. It got worse, in the “even better” sense of the word. I started with a spinich and ricotta ravioli in homemade marinara and then switched gears to an unbelievably fresh and flaky dolphin, lightly roasted and topped with pan-seared blue crab over whipped potatoes and cooked in some sort of light sauce that it seemed to me was an orange creamsicle base. My palate isn’t sophisticated enough to describe that any better. Suffice it to say, me and those clouds, we know what it is to be over-inflated this day, plodding slowly and satiated across the south Florida landscape, like a dirigible non-commitally searching for a destination but satisfied to simply survey what is beneath for a time.

Today we pick up the rest of our gang, but later. First there’s swimming and shopping–TB ain’t on this trip solo after all. After completing what I have decided is now one of my top five favorite drives–crossing the Everglades on the Tamiami Trail watching the alligators and the birds-tomorrow we start on one of my more established top five drives, down the A1A to Key West for Thanksgiving where I plan to drop a pound or two picked up this week while dining on a charter boat’s version of turkey and trimmings, or more likely ignoring them for the assorted water sports they offer. I just hope I don’t get harpooned when I remove my shirt.

Here’s hoping everyone in the TBU has a Happy Thanksgiving too, and take it from TB–one more helping of sweet potatoes, one more slice of pie, yeah, they’ll hurt a little, but look at it this way–proportionally you’ll probably be holding serve with everyone else. Excepting TB, of course who will have some work to do just to stay even.

Posted in Food, Travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Thursday Pickin Season II, Week 12

Quote of the Day:

I got two cases and a 30 pack plus a gallon of vodka and a bottle of Jagar. Probably pick up another case on the way just in case.” –Feidt’s Follies, official Gentleman of Leisure of the TBU, always on Third Week holiday, dubiously substituting vodka for bourbon

After all the sound and the fury, the whining and the crying, Sweet stepped up this week and voted for his only rival to winning the coveted Travellinbaen Universe Pickin Championship for musical bonus points. This set ol’ TB to ponderin the concept of sportsmanship. Was Sweet acting in a sportsmanlike fashion by helping RockStar gain a point? Was he being patronizing? Was it simply gentlemanly behavior? To be true sportsmanship, as TB sees it, the vote would’ve had to be because RSR’s theme was truly the best in his view, irrespective of how it affected the points. The theme was indeed good, but then RockStar is a rock star and always comes with some stout musical selections for those of us less clued in to the hipster world. TB believes in giving people the benefit of the doubt, even Sweet, so I’m calling out his courageous vote as one worthy of respect. My ruminations on the subject were merely academic.

Coach TJ wears the wreath of victory this festive Third Week. He won his POTW of course, then went a smooth 5-0 on bonus picks. Well done Coach. TB lost my POTW, but went 4-1 on bonus selections to bring my season tally to 6-4-1 (bowl eligible) on POTW’s and 30-24-01 on bonus picks. RSR and Sweet stayed at the top of the heap with all-in POTW victories and they each garnered bonus points in the lightly voted upon musical category. By the way, a shout out goes to Mac, Irv, and TKH for their videos and a special award to Fig E for making me blow soda out my nose with his SOTW. There were an impressive 14 POTW winners last week against only 7 losers. Of note, the losers went 14-5 on bonus plays collectively while the winners went 16-10. The top 14 below, as always won their POTW, the rest lost or overslept, and bonus play records are in parentheses.

Week 11 Standings

  1. Coach Tea Jay  (5-0)  80
  2. RSR (all in plus Theme bonus)  73
  3. Sweet (all in plus Song bonus)  73
  4. Larry  (4-1)  68
  5. Zeek  68
  6. BR  68
  7. Mac  68
  8. JLM  68
  9. Fig  68
  10. Feidt’s Follies (4-2)  62
  11. Irv  (2-2)  50
  12. SmilyJ  (1-1)  50
  13. S&M  (0-1)  44
  14. BW Buzz  (0-4, plus makeup to stay ahead of biggest loser) 39
  15. TB  (4-1)  38
  16. TKH  (3-1)  32
  17. Fish  (3-2)  26
  18. Greeg  (2-1)  26
  19. MD  (1-0)  26
  20. Q  (1-0)  26
  21. Face  10
  22. TDW  (hibernating near the North Pole)
  23. Harmony–Official DJ of Thursday Pickin
  24. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop–conducting a prostate screening

Season Standings

  1. RSR  588
  2. Sweet  582
  3. Mac  519
  4. Feidt’s Follies  508
  5. Zeek  485
  6. CTJ  476
  7. SmilyJ  472
  8. BW Buzz  449
  9. TB  446
  10. Fig E  445
  11. Irv  439
  12. Larry  423
  13. TKH  378
  14. JLM  374
  15. S&M  344
  16. Face  324
  17. BR  305
  18. Fish  300
  19. MD  282
  20. Greeg  254
  21. Q  248
  22. TDW  224
  23. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop  180

Link to Sheridan’s Odds

My Third Week Picks

  • Purdue  -3
  • Texas  -27′
  • Cal  +7
  • Kentucky  +8
  • Vandy  +17

POTW  Ohio State  -12

Third Week Caroling

  • Never Been to Spain–Three Dog Night (didn’t think I was gonna go with Joy to the World, did you?)
  • One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer–George Thorgood and the Delaware Destroyers’ version
  • Three Little Birds–Bob Marley
  • I Saw Three Ships–Sting

SOTW–3 Strange Days–School of Fish

Bonus 3rd Week Video Caroling

Three Blind Mice

Buckwheat sings Fee Times a Mady

Posted in Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 39 Comments

Party Planning For Third Week

Quote of the Day:

“I never did like to work and I don’t deny it. I’d rather read, tell stories, crack jokes, talk, laugh–anything but work.” –Abraham Lincoln

TB hears all the time, “TB, I love Third Week. I’m spreading the word and most everyone wants to participate. But how does one celebrate this new holiday? After all, Christmas has the tree, Thanksgiving has the turkey, Festivus has its pole….what the hell does 3W have?” I’m glad you asked.

First, you plan your Third Week Party meal–Third Pound Burger and 3 Bean Chili are the traditional main courses and for desert, Neopolitan ice cream, of course. Then you pretty much lay around on the couch watching movies and DVD’s instead of working–movies like “Return of the Jedi, Godfather 3, and 3 Days of the Condor. It’s also a good time for opening that old 3’s Company box set gathering dust in your attic. You should have the traditional beverages of Third Week available for your meal and sofa time–one bourbon, one Scotch and one beer. After about three servings of that you should be ready to do some Third Week caroling. At some point during 3W you must give someone a blank stare, say something damn dubious, and retell an old story with or about an asshole runnin buddy. Often these can be done at the same time. After all that eating and laying around and drinking and singing and staring it’ll be time for the final stage in 3W festivities. This is when you return to your couch, turn out the lights and put in your DVD of “Saturday Night Live–the forgotten classics you never saw in the first place because they were relegated to airing in the final half-hour.” These are all those skits that started out with a decent idea, but they never really got traction. Really, the funniest part of them was that they just kept going on and on and on….and on…. You will be asleep before long and by the time you wake up it will be Thanksgiving week, the beginning of the holidays for all those beholden to the man. At some point between 3W Monday and Thanksgiving Day, as tradition dictates, MD will officially close the season with a comment broadcast exclusively here to all denizens of the Travellinbaen Universe.

H3W to all and to all, just keep shuffling paper for a few more days.

Posted in Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Traditional Media’s War on Third Week

Quote of the Day:

When you have an important point to make, don’t try to be subtle or clever. Use a pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time–a tremendous whack.” –Winston Churchill

It’s the third most wonderful time of the year! Third week is here, finally! Some of you were already explorers in the TBU this time last year for the inaugural celebration of the best new holiday to come about in centuries. If you haven’t heard about Third Week yet, I’m not surprised. The so-called “traditional media” won’t cover the story. Because Third Week is above commercialization and if they can’t make a buck off of it the networks and the newspapers and even the Google just don’t care. But there is a groundswell of support for Third Week and eventually the “Man” will be able to ignore it no more. For those of you blacked out on coverage of Third Week, here’s a link to last year’s original TBU story.

I task you friends to take up arms (metaphorically) in this war–a war started by the Traditional (and non-traditional too I guess) Media. Spread the word. Shout it from the rooftops! Hold clandestine meetings in your homes! Put three lights up in the bell tower! Blog! Facebook (ooh, somebody start a “group”)! Gossip! Start an email chain letter promising bad luck to those who don’t forward, or a million bucks to those who do (idea–Bill Gates supports Third Week–you take it from there). If you are liberal spread the word that Barack Obama secretly celebrates his Third Week heritage. Conservative? No problem, tell everyone he wants to come to their homes and take away their Third Week.

It’s the week before the week when everyone quits for the year. For too long we’ve waited for Thanksgiving to shut it all down. So take heart. They cannot hold back this tide forever, friends. When Third Week becomes the law of the land let it not be said that you were on the sidelines when the movement began.

I leave you to ponder what’s within your heart and your conscience and I am sure you will be guided accordingly.

Posted in Humor | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

Thursday Pickin Season II Week 11

Quote of the Day:

The root of all superstition is that men observe when a thing hits, but not when it misses.” –Sir Francis Bacon

Here’s a little Friday the 13th trivia:

  • The word for fear of Friday the 13th is paraskevidekatriaphobia. I challenge you all to use this word in conversation tomorrow and report back here on the reaction.
  • The theory for the origin of Friday the 13th as unlucky which is the officially endorsed one by TB is that the Knights Templars were ordered to be destroyed by the Pope for becoming too powerful and wealthy and probably also because they held secrets the church did not want disseminated to the masses. On Friday, October 13, 1307, the Pope’s secret order to King Phillip of France was carried out and mass arrests of the order’s members took place. The church conveniently took possession of the Templars’ vast treasure and executed the membership as heretics. TB believes the University of Alabama has become too powerful and wealthy over the years and has brought this to the Vatican’s attention through numerous, as yet unacknowledged emails.
  • The TBU is willing to entertain the notion that Friday the 13th is in fact lucky because this was the pagan belief prior to the Norman Conquest of England. Since the pagans also brought us Christmas, Stonehenge and the point spread, I believe it is important to give full consideration to their lost culture and beliefs.
  • Superstitions are a very important aspect of the gambling/entertainment-only-consideration-of-the-point-spread world. A few examples–I mentioned last week in response to Feidt’s Follies’ braggadocio l’amore that one should never screw with a winning streak, a truism made famous by the great Crash Davis. Other knowledge that may assist you in overcoming your paraskevidekatriaphobia (there, that was easy) as it applies to sports entertainment is to never assume a PAT will be good if you need it, always lie on your belly before the television in crucial situations and never mark up a “W” on your sheet or even in your innermost private thoughts until the last second has ticked off the clock. Please add to this list in your comments.

On to the game. Q was the weekly winner as best I can tell. He picked opposite of SM who picked opposite of Sweet, but added one pick of her own, who picked opposite of Feidt who choked under the pressure of perfection without even giving the C boys a chance to doom him. Check that, Fig was the weekly winner thanks to his LOTW victory, but I’m not retyping the previous sentence because it took me ten minutes to figure all that out. A lot of you tried your hand at the all-in strategy and took your lumps. The song of the week went to Mac with 2 votes and list went to Fig with 1.5. On the year, TB is now 6-3-1 on POTW’s and 26-23-1 on bonus plays. The top ten below won their POTW, everyone else lost, and as always bonus pick results are in parentheses.

  1. Fig  (all in, plus bonus points for LOTW, plus makeup points to equal top picker with bonus selections)  67
  2. Q  (4-2)  62
  3. RSR  (all in plus make up points to tie Q)  62
  4. Sweet (3-2)  56
  5. Irv (2-2)  50
  6. BW  Buzz/aka Even Steven (2-2)  50
  7. JLM  (2-2)  50
  8. CTJ  (2-3)  44
  9. TB  (2-3)  44
  10. Lucky Larry  (1-4 plus bonus points to stay ahead of the biggest loser)  39
  11. TKH  (3-0) should’ve gone with Navy  38
  12. Mac  (all in plus SOTW)  15
  13. Feidt’s Follies  (2-3)  14
  14. Greeg/TBU’s official point man on beer legalization  (1-2)  14
  15. Fish  (1-2)  14
  16. MD  10
  17. SmilyJ  10
  18. Zeek  10
  19. BR  10
  20. Face  10
  21. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop  10
  22. S&M  (2-4)  8
  23. TDW  (Fishing in Alaska)

Season Standings

  1. RSR  515
  2. Sweet  509
  3. Mac  451
  4. Feidt’s Follies  446
  5. SmilyJ  422
  6. Zeek  417
  7. BW Buzz  410
  8. TB  408
  9. CTJ  396
  10. Irv  389
  11. Fig E  377
  12. LLLarry  355
  13. TKH  346
  14. Face  314
  15. JLM  306
  16. S&M  300
  17. Fish  274
  18. MD  256
  19. BR  237
  20. Greeg  228
  21. TDW  224
  22. Q  222
  23. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop  180

Link to Sheridan’s Odds

My Picks:

  • Iowa  +17
  • Cal  -2′
  • Houston  -4′
  • Kentucky  -3
  • Texas  -23′

POTW

  • Florida  -15′

My Tunes

  • Elvis is Everywhere–Mojo Nixon
  • Drinkin Song–Jason Boland and the Stragglers
  • Ain’t Superstitious–The Yardbirds
  • Black Cat Moan–Beck, Bogert and Appice

SOTW–Mr. Lucky–John Lee Hooker

Posted in Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 46 Comments

Mardi Gras 1995 (Anatomy of a Hangover)

–BASED on a true story–

Quote of the Day:

“Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” Ernest Hemingway

It all started out so innocently. Sweet came out of his eye exam, eyes dilated, vision blurry. The clerk had pretty hair, of that he was certain, a pleasing voice, and a friendly, outgoing personality. He drew out the process of settling his bill and ordering his contacts, making small talk, putting on the charm, because back in the day Sweet could roll like that.

A couple of days later he went back to pick up his contacts. The girl had a pretty face to go with her hair. He couldn’t tell much else because she was seated behind a glass window. I say “much else” because he could see the telling gleam in her eye–she wanted to give him her number. And so he got it, because back in the day, Sweet was the man like that.

That weekend TB came to visit, the weekend before Fat Tuesday. Sweet said he’d talked to this girl he recently met a few times on the phone and she was pretty cool. She even had a friend and they wanted to do something that weekend. Sweet stepped out and said let’s go down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and see the Endymion parade, so he called her and she and her friend were willing and so we set off at a moment’s notice, because back then Sweet was like that.

We stopped at the 7-11 and picked up a case of beer, a bag of ice, a styrofoam cooler and some Rolaids, because even back then, Sweet was like that. As we pulled up to the girl’s apartment she saw us coming and stuck her head out telling us to wait just a moment. I turned and looked at Sweet and he grinned hopefully, but not without uncertainty. The girls came out laughing and hopped in the car. I was in luck–the friend was really good looking. The girl….I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly. I’d never encountered anything quite like it before, or more precisely, quite like them. I kept trying to get a better look and it took awhile because I didn’t want to get busted. Sweet kept glancing blankly in my direction from the rearview mirror. He’d seen it/them too. A few beers later we all needed a pit stop. When Sweet and I had a moment of privacy I pulled him aside. “Are those cankles?”  Sweet just shook his head in resignation. “I think so,” he said dully. “How could I have known?”

So we all loaded back up for the rest of the drive and Sweet recovered quickly. He was like that back then. After all, the girl was cool and her friend/my designated target was hot so Sweet shifted deftly into the role of friend guy/wing man, a seldom played role for him, but one he could willingly take on when necessary. It turned out to be unnecessary because the hot girl viewed me (I must assume) in much the way Sweet viewed “Cankles.” No matter, we all somehow realized how things were gonna be among us and silently assented to having a fun evening as pals.

For some reason on this night, maybe it was because I held out hope for the friend, I had decided not to go overboard with the beer. Overboard, back then for TB, wasn’t easy to do. I could pack away a lot of beer. Really, a lot. So I was probably only on about my tenth as we made our way down to the parade route hauling a Hefty bag full of beer and ice–the styrofoam cooler made it less than ten steps from the car, so we improvised. Back then we were like that. The hot girl was lost in the crowd, probably looking for her boyfriend. Sweet was slapping Cankles on the back like an old construction worker buddy ahead of me as I took my turn dragging the Hefty bag. Cankles was playing along, laughing and joking–she was well accustomed to her role too it seemed.

We found a likely spot for viewing the parade. Sweet and Cankles were carrying on, dancing in the street, sloshing Bud Light on one another occasionally, keeping enough daylight between themselves to satisfy any junior high dance chaperone. I stood back from the crowd, sipping my suds like a gentleman, thinking on how I might turn the tide with the good looking friend. Suddenly the crowd began to part and all eyes turned to a girl marching down St. Charles dressed as a nurse and holding a twelve pack of beer in one hand and a funnel in the other. “I can outdrink anydamnbody here!”, she shouted repeatedly. “Who wants to funnel with me? I’ll drink anydamnoneofyou under the table.”

I chuckled to myself. A twenty-four and a half year old pre-professional, I’d outgrown such shenanigans but could still freshly recall the times I’d have taken up her challenge. That’s when Sweet accosted her. “You can’t outdrink everybody here!” The nurse stared back at him resolutely, mutely challenging him to back up his statement. A thousand eyes watched Sweet, including mine, as he paused just a heartbeat before replying. “He can outdrink you!” Sweet’s index finger and a thousand eyes turned to me. The nurse glared in anticipation of another conquest. Well, I wasn’t gonna take that crap. “Yep”, I said in a calm, assertive voice. “I can outdrink you.” The nurse smiled and said “I’ll go first.”

She funneled a beer, then poured one for me and I sucked it down. Within another minute we’d finished number two and in another couple of minutes went numbers three and four. After four, the nurse had had enough. The crowd was cheering, I was in the zone. It was time to claim the victory. “Give me another.” I drunk it down. The nurse wasn’t even paying attention now but the crowd was cheering. Sweet was taunting her one moment like Jimmy Hart, the Mouth of the South, and tussling my head in celebration the next. “Give me another.” The crowd roared. Sweet rubbed my shoulders. The nurse was on her knees. If I was gonna be challenged by God, by a girl no less, there wasn’t gonna be any doubt over the outcome. I put away number 6 and after that my memories of the night are soundless and few.

I’ve never been one to pass out for too much drink. I black out. I go catatonic. I do crazy ass things, at least I did back then when I was like that. There are a few hazy images that survived the night in my memory. I remember the hot girl coming back and perching recklessly on my shoulders to watch the parade. I remember KC and the Sunshine Band. I remember the pit stop in an alley and the cold ride in the bed of a random cajun’s pickup truck. I remember a gray Motel Six hallway. And I know I had one of the worst hangovers of my life the next day. But Sweet took care of me, we made it home, and on this story I’ve gotten my props now lo these many years. Sweet’s like that after all. As for me, I retired from funneling after that day. That hangover must’ve been really bad. It’s funny, I think, and telling, that the memory of how it came about lasts longer than the memory of the pain. Hangovers are like that, and that’s one helluva silver lining.

Posted in Humor, Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Greatness In The Mist

Quote of the Day:

Then move the trees, the copses nod,
Wings flutter, voices hover clear:
“O just and faithful knight of God!
Ride on! the prize is near.”
So pass I hostel, hall, and grange;
By bridge and ford, by park and pale,
All-arm’d I ride, whate’er betide,
Until I find the holy Grail.

–“Sir Galahad”, Alfred, Lord Tennyson

TB, as any resident of the Travellinbaen Universe knows, harbors the open, not uncommon, secret longing to someday make a buck at this writing thing. It’s the quixotic corner of my life devoted to the pursuit of greatness. I’ve been afflicted with this goal all my life. It’s just lately been something I’ve given conscious thought to though.

For a couple of weeks, friend of the TBU MDM has been posting historical information on Pascagoula baseball. Many readers know that MDM achieved “greatness” as a centerfielder, not only in high school but in college too, though he always saves his praise for others. Like many ‘Goula boys, there were years when my target for achieving greatness was to follow in MDM’s footsteps. I was obsessed with the game throughout my older childhood and adolescence. Obsession be damned, greatness on the diamond eluded me.

But the dream of greatness and the fanciful schemes for achieving it predated even those years. I vividly recall as a kindergartner daydreams of escaping the drudgery of school by saving everyone from a fire or a Russian invasion or maybe an evil wizard. I would climb to the air ducts that lined the corner of the ceiling and crawl along them, making my way to safety, bringing with me only the cute redhead I’d never talked to, until I could go for help and return in glory to save everyone else. In first grade I seized on the small hole in the plaster behind my desk and spent the entire “quiet game” each day imagining the pirate treasure hidden within that I would find and that would allow me to escape the prison that was “all day” school. The influence of knights and soldiers and pirates and princes in the books I knew undoubtedly served as inspiration. I still gravitate to tales of adventure, even if I only blog about the occasional high-minded tomes of my personal bibliography. Thanks to the miracle of Kindle and the availability of free public domain classics I’ve been devouring the tales of King Arthur and his Round Table this last week and thinking about heroes, champions and greatness much as I did long ago.

Nowadays I spend my idle time thinking of the latest idea for a novel, or a memoir, maybe even a screenplay. I know there are millions out there with the same dream. I know the odds of becoming published by any entity not lorded over by myself are enormous. I know that I have good days and bad and that the good days are not yet good enough. But I’m gradually learning my strengths and weaknesses, above all my limitations. And I’m convinced that greatness as I define it, to be a published writer, is possible even if its unlikely. I can see it through the fog, I feel like I can almost grasp it sometimes, but I am afraid any sudden movement on my part may cause it to disappear. So I carefully move forward, searching for the right voice, the right subject, the right vehicle…searching, when there’s time.

I think it is a good thing to harbor delusions of grandeur, so long as they are kept in proper perspective. For years in my life, the goal of greatness lay dormant. From the day I started college through seven years of quasi-education through a decade of decadence as a single professional man with a little jingle in my pocket, I thought little of achievements beyond outdrinking my ARB’s (which I largely accomplished) or charming the little red head across the bar (also blondes and brunettes–which I only occasionally accomplished). One of the benefits of settling down as a family man has been that the innate desire for a measure of immortality regained purchase on the slippery ledges of my mind where before all of my faculties had been devoted to more base and immediate pursuits. The quest for greatness doesn’t take priority in my life, far from it. But its nice to have a dream, especially one immune to destruction by rotator cuff, poor eyesight, or the evil magic of a damsel in the wood.

———————————————————————-

I’d love to have comments on this thread, like all my posts, but do me a favor–refrain from either encouraging me or dashing my dreams, that’s not the point and I hesitate to even publish this essay for fear that it looks like I’m fishing for compliments. Your residency here is encouragement enough, in fact, for better or worse, its your continued presence more than anything that challenges me and keeps me going. I’m more interested in if anyone else harbors these type dreams, whether focused on the family, career, arts, music, athletics or whatever or if you once did and got over it. Or some other angle, just don’t embarrass me with either kindness or cruelty, just on this post.

Posted in Life, Philosobaen, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Thursday Pickin Season II, Week 10

Quote of the Day:

This is for FF, when the power rears its evil head around 2:00 Saturday.” –Coach TeaJay

As you may have guessed, FF won his POTW again, now 8-0 on the season. Known far and wide as the South’s preeminent “Gentleman of Leisure”, the question is, is he feeling the pressure. The other question is, will it get to him? I also wonder, are Waldo and Sweet on this train yet? Another question is, to be or not to be? TB has lots of questions actually. For instance….uh-oh, I feel a digression coming on. Better just skip ahead to the results.

Last week saw 12 POTW winners and 11 losers.  As always, the 12 winners appear first, bonus picks in parentheses. SOTW was divided up with a point apiece to Coach TJ, S&M, Sweet and Larry. A point was left over so I’ll give it to Mac for voting for his post 12 times and giving everybody else one star. Theme points are split between Irv and Smily 2 apiece and I’ll give Zeek my point since he really wanted to vote for himself anyway. Smily’s extra bonus point vaulted him to his first weekly win in a quietly successful overall campaign.

  1. SmilyJ  (4-2, plus bonus) 64
  2. Sweet (all-in plus makeup points plus bonus) 63
  3. Mac  63
  4. Zeek 63
  5. BR  62
  6. Greeg (2-1)  56  (Is this Greeg’s first ever winning record?)
  7. BW Buzz (2-2)  50  (Should BW Buzz change his moniker to Even Steven?)
  8. Irv (1-2, plus bonus)  46
  9. S&M  (0-1, plus bonus  45
  10. Feidt’s Follies (2-3)  44
  11. TB  (2-3)  44
  12. CTJ  (1-4, plus bonus)  33
  13. JLM (3-1) 32
  14. TKH (2-1)  26
  15. Q (1-0)  26
  16. Larry  (2-3)  14
  17. Face  10  (Should the all-in penalty for losers have been harsher?)
  18. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop  10
  19. MD  10
  20. RSR  10  (Is RSR unfairly handicapped in tuneage bonuses?)
  21. Fish  10
  22. TDW  (1-4)  8
  23. Harmony  (kept a spot on the bench nice and warm)

Season Standings

  1. Sweet  453  (Will TB “let” Sweet win?)
  2. RSR  453
  3. Mac  441  (Will Mac think he got screwed on the tunes again?)
  4. Feidt’s Follies   436
  5. SmilyJ  422
  6. Zeek  407
  7. TB  364
  8. BW Buzz  360 (Should we call you “Even Steven”)
  9. CTJ  352
  10. Irv  339  (Can he adequately service both his love of music, the TBU and his girlfriend?)
  11. Lazy Larry   316 (Will he chant at the end of Dixie?)
  12. Fig E  310  (Is Jimmy Johnson the greatest driver ever?)
  13. TKH  308  (Navy again?)
  14. Face  304
  15. S&M  292  (Does she like us, really really like us, or is she just being nice?)
  16. JLM  262  (Does she like us, really really like us, or is she just being cruel?)
  17. Fish  260  (A Notre Dame alum or what?)
  18. MD  246  (Any record highs today?)
  19. BR  227
  20. TDW  224
  21. Greeg  214
  22. Special Guest Picker Doc Scoop  170  (Do they have internet in Rocky Creek?)
  23. Q  160

TB’s record on the season is now 5-3-1 on POTW’s and 24-20-1 on the bonus. Here’s the link to Sheridan’s Odds.

My Week 10 picks:

  • LSU  +7′
  • Oklahoma  -5′
  • Illinois  +7
  • Syracuse  +21′  (Why do I EVER take the ‘cuse?)
  • Connecticut +16′

POTW–Houston +1

Some tunes:

  • So This is Love?–Van Halen
  • Can I Sit Next to You Girl?–AC/DC
  • Should I Stay or Should I Go?–Clash
  • Is This Love?–Bob Marley
  • Where Do You Go To My Lovely–Peter Sarstedt (from the Darjeeling Limited Soundtrack)
Posted in Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 76 Comments

The Free State of Jones

Quote of the Day:

I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.” –General William Tecumseh Sherman, USA

TB, like most Mississippians has long known of “the Free State of Jones.” Also like most Mississippians, I didn’t know much. But I’ve always heard about how Jones County was “different” and part of that was because the county seceded from the state of Mississippi during the Civil War. In the version I heard most, they didn’t secede to rejoin the USA, they just seceded to be on their own. So when I saw the book, “The State of Jones” by Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer sitting in my local bookstore I had to pick it up. After reading the first few pages I was hooked. I learned while standing there in the store that the story of the Free State had been well documented. In fact the primary source for the book was an interview with the partisan leader Newton Knight conducted by a newspaper reporter in 1921, just before Knight’s death. As I read through the book I continued to be impressed with the first hand sources unearthed by the authors and their documentation of them in the endnotes. I also learned that the Free State’s so-called secession from the Confederacy was absolutely true in fact, though the men who led the revolt probably never considered using such a word for their deeds, and certainly issued nothing so frivolous as a proclamation.

The story told by Jenkins and Stauffer is fascinating to a Civil War aficionado, illuminating the experience from the foot soldier’s perspective and from that of the families left behind on the farm. It indirectly tells more of the slave experience during the war than anything I’ve ever read. But its scope encompasses bigger themes of Mississippi, Southern and even National political divisions that remain to this day, and that I’m not completely certain the authors even recognized. One thing they did recognize and develop was the idea that the men who led the South to war and who survived the war–some in spite of great peril at numerous battles and some because of the Twenty Negro Law that exempted large slaveholders and their sons from service–essentially “won” their cause. Using the example of Newton Knight, the authors traced the political domination of Jones County in a direct line from the men who ran the place in 1860 to the men who ran it in 1865, with the tacit blessing of their recent Union Army vanquishers. And they showed how the causes of the planter class of continuing free labor and social control of both the black race and poor whites were won.

Knight was of the yeoman farmer class who typically owned no slaves and who opposed the war in large numbers from its outset. I was surprised to learn that Jones County voted to send its delegate to Mississippi’s Secession Convention with instructions to vote “no” to secession. Upon his arrival in Jackson, the delegate was by turns wined and dined, then threatened of his life in order to change his vote to “yes.” He did, and he was given a plum job in the new government. The dirt farmers of Jones County and their neighboring south Mississippi counties were initially livid with the act of their delegate and the convention as a whole.

However, most of their opinions changed at the onset of hostilities and many from Jones and thereabouts signed up to fight for the South. The rest were drafted, save the few Jones families with large slaveholdings. Knight was drafted along with most everyone he knew and resigned himself to service in the Confederate Army. In the Civil War, men from communities typically served together and Knight was in a company of Jones and Jaspar County men he knew well. They suffered mightily in battles around Corinth and eventually down to Vicksburg where they endured the entire siege of the western bastion and suffered all of the privations brought on by General Grant. Knight and his friends were eventually taken prisoner, then paroled to go home and fight no more, which suited the company just fine. It did not, however, suit the Confederate government who needed men.

After arriving home Knight found his home country in a desolate state. Without its men, the area farms had been insufficiently tended by the women and children left home alone. Worse, the Confederates were constantly imposing levies on crops and stock and even when the levies ended, corrupt local politicians, the men exempt from the front line suffering, continued to take. Between the hunger, the insults inflicted on his home and family and before long the attempt by authorities to impress him back into military service, Knight, along with hundreds of his neighbors rebelled. The authors speculated there were thousands of similarly situated ex-soldiers taking the same course of action throughout southeast Mississippi and along the coast–the part of the state without a plantation culture. Along with the entire state of West Virginia, much of east Tennessee and several other enclaves aroun the south, not only Jones but most of south and east Mississippi were in open rebellion by 1864 against the Confederacy.

While it clearly wasn’t the original impetus, as Knight and his men caused more trouble for the Confederacy and drew more troops into their pursuit, he eventually came around to the point of view he held less emphatically before the war–that he was a Union man and opposed to slavery. As his band swelled with deserters and parolees, they began to undertake missions of sabotage to the Confederate war effort. Most of these acts served the dual purpose of hurting the Confederacy and feeding the local populace, white and black. Knight’s gang relied heavily upon the “invisible” black population of the area to hide them from pursuing cavalry, to warn them of troop movements and to feed them in the swamps where they hid. Before long, Knight had fallen in love with a former slave and taken her on as a second wife. Quickly thereafter came children. As his relationships with the former slave class increased, his dedication to the espoused Union principles of freedom and equality likewise grew. And it was this idealism, grown of suffering and fear, that set up what was to me the central point of the entire tale.

When the war ended Knight expected to be rewarded by the Union and to see changes to the antebellum social and political order. He had been commended to higher political authority by several of the Union officers he’d assisted during the war. The Confederate armies had been soundly defeated in the field and he had contributed to the result. To his astonishment and disappointment, within months of the war’s end he was a forgotten pawn. Forgotten to the Union at least–the planter class remembered him well. Knight was driven by the ex-Rebels to the backwoods compound of his dual family farm. The black equality he’d thought he had helped earn was wiped out by the Black Codes, precursors to Jim Crow. The old Confederate Generals and Colonels were back in charge of the government. Even the school he’d built for his white and black children to attend, under the teacher whose salary he paid, was burned to the ground. Still formidable as a fighting man, even feared, he was able to maintain a redoubt on his family land, but it is unlikely that Knight slept soundly even once between 1866-1921, and the reason had nothing to do with his maintenance of two wives.

It all made me wonder, what was the Union fighting for? It wasn’t to free the slaves. That was but a slogan. The men behind the bayonets may have believed that was their cause, but did Lincoln? We’ll never know as a consequence of his assassination. What we do know is that former slaves gained little or nothing from the outcome for a hundred years out from Appomattox. Beyond that, the slaveholding class was allowed to take back political power in the South without Yankee opposition in the decade following the cessation of hostilities. Was it money? Lincoln was a railroad man after all, and it was via the transport of southern agricultural produce in large part that the railroad men became tycoons. Anyone who studies history knows that in almost all wars from the beginning of recorded history, you must determine where the money leads in order to understand the conflict. I’m sure the issue has been addressed among the innumerable texts about the Civil War, but I’ve not seen it. Maybe the Federals thought they could simply impose their will through military might but found, like modern armies and nations do, that no amount of military strength was enough to change hearts and minds. For me its an open question, but at least now I know the story of The Free State of Jones, of Newton Knight, and of his unfulfilled idealism. As someone who considers himself a student of history and particularly of Mississippi history, the telling filled a gaping hole in my understanding of how my home state has come to be the place it is today.

—————————-

If anybody made it through all that, which is of great interest to me but perhaps not to one who reads a blog for a moment of mild amusement or escape from the daily grind, there are a couple of more notes I would’ve like to have worked in to my essay.

First, it is natural I believe, that southerners engage in mental gymnastics to justify our ancestors’ actions with regard to secession. After all, nobody believes in slavery any more, and it is difficult to imagine folks with near identical DNA as ours supporting it. It is a tenet of southern popular history that the war was fought over love of the Constitution and states rights. But deep down, most of us know that’s a lie. I’ll admit to ascribing to that orally taught history for many years and even still wanting to believe there was some just cause for which the South fought. I had never heard of the Declaration of Secession until I read this book. I’m not going to link it but if you google the term you will find it easy enough. It destroys the myth that the South fought for anything but slavery. It is likewise broadly accepted that the North fought for the noble purpose to preserve the Union and to stamp out slavery. Considering their post-war actions, there must’ve been some other motives too.

Finally, it was but a side note in the narrative but one I found interesting. Many of the partisans who fought under the command of Knight and alongside him against the Union developed selective memories in the years following the war and particularly after the restoration of the old boy network. Whether from racism, personal preservation or psychosis, they almost all came to embrace the mythology of the “Lost Cause” and their roles in furthering the interests of the Confederacy. Knight had kept detailed records of his men and their activities so we know who fought with him. But in their public dealings and their oral family traditions many completely rejected their role in the “Free State” in favor of their imagined role as heroic men in Gray. I’d be interested to know how their descendants view the facts illuminated by Jenkins and Stauffer. Many of the names from this book, both patrician and yeoman, are still well known in that part of the state.

Posted in History, Mississippi | Tagged , , , , , , , | 12 Comments