Life in the Boro

Kicks.

2012-01-26T14:23:00.005-05:00

Baltimore Raven's kicker Billy Cundiff's miss of what would have been a game-tying field-goal in the A.F.C. championship game is almost a week-old now. The miss is not fresh news, anymore, but as a long-standing Florida State Seminoles fan, it touches a nerve. The following videos are about kicks. They range from Paul Revere and the Raiders warning against chasing kicks in the 1960's, to the thoroughly raunchy video by Peaches and Iggy Pop. None of them is so painful as the last video, though.

Okay! Okay! Take the Acorns!

2012-01-25T08:03:00.005-05:00

I dunno. To me this guy just looked... angry. Crazy angry. Like this guy:

Or maybe this one.

New England Patriots: The Empire Strikes Back.

2012-01-19T08:25:00.004-05:00

Outside of New England, Patriot's coach Bill Belichick is a guy opponents and fans of opposing teams love to hate. Is it his sometimes frosty demeanor? His propensity to run up the score? Accusations a few years ago that he filmed opponents' practices? Or maybe its his dreadful hoodies? In any event, an Associated Press article today about Bill Belichick contained a quote from Grantland.com writer Charles P. Pierce that Belichick is "the NFL's last real anti-Christ". Anti-Christ? No. Darth Sidious? Well, I've never seen them in a room together...

Weight, Weight, Don't Tell Me!

2012-01-18T08:07:00.003-05:00

I've often pondered weighty matters. Here are some of my favorites:

Of course, you've got to start with The Band:

...and the Beatles:

Tennessee Ernie Ford was toting weight before John, Paul, George and Ringo did:

Did I miss any?

A Fistful of Gummi Bears.

2012-01-16T11:27:00.004-05:00

Clint rocked Spaghetti Westerns many moons ago.

Son Taylor just wants some spaghetti. Or maybe it was corn chips.

Guac this Way.

2012-01-13T08:11:00.000-05:00

No, "avocado" is neither a hobby (that'd be avocation) nor a Spanish attorney (that'd be just silly): it's a vegetablish-fruit that Lady Di mashes, then mixes with lime juice, garlic, onions and tomato to create a most fine guacamole. We had some on our black bean burritos the other day and it was muy bueno!

Teenagers, Redux.

2012-01-12T10:41:00.006-05:00

Mostly my job is to represent grownups charged with crimes. Mostly. I do get the occasional juvenile case, though, and it gets me thinking about the good, the bad and the ugly of a teenager's lot in life ('course, I got my own teens, too, so it isn't just work that gets me thinking about teen behavior). I've posted about teenagers before. As a group, they'll drive you nuts. The experts have spilled plenty of ink on why teenagers do the stuff they do. From brain development to risk_taking. Bill Cosby talked about why parents never smile, and Alice Cooper summed it up pretty well way back in 1971 about being a teenager: "I've got a baby's brain, and an old man's heart". Here's your point/counter-point. Alice or 'Cos. Pick 'em.

She's Down to Seven Lives...

2012-01-04T10:08:00.004-05:00

Poor Puddy Cat. According to an Associate Press article which I read in this morning's Charleston Post and Courier, a freaky feline named Andera has suffered the indignity of being twice_executed in Utah, but she keeps right on living. Obviously, see still has seven lives to go. Either that, or she's...

...a zombie cat. They probably just picked the wrong Pet_Cemetary (I always thought Steven King borrowed his idea for that book from a_short_story_I_read_in_Junior_High_School, but what do I know?

Racing Along in 2012.

2012-01-02T12:25:00.000-05:00

2011 was a rocket ride through some amazing and some troubling times. Things are grand at La Maisson Jeune at present: Lady Di is, as always, an amazing partner; Son Tyler has returned from the abyss, and has been a source of pride since coming to join us at the beginning of October; and we've got a new priest at St. Jude's who exudes Christ's love. Not too shabby, really. Here's hoping the trend continues.

See Y'all Later.

2011-08-10T10:03:00.002-04:00

I'm going on hiatus. Don't know when I'll be back, but I will, eventually. I've done just short of 800 posts. I really enjoy doing it, but I need a break.

Poured, Not Dunked.

2011-08-08T15:45:00.002-04:00

Deron and Beth's boy got baptized at St. Jude's yesterday. Lady Di and I made a point of going to the late service to be there. Father Floyd Finch presided over the ceremony. He's been among the visiting priests subbing for us while we look for a new rector. Father Floyd's been introducing babies into their new communities for a little minute: he presided over my daughter, Caroline's, baptism 21 years ago. Father Floyd's a round, hearty "Friar Tuck"-looking priest, and he looks about like he did back in 1990(Caroline does not).

Glory to Deodorant in the Highest.

2011-08-04T08:10:00.001-04:00

Well, if Gloria in excelsis Deo is Latin for "Glory to God in the Highest", then this stuff must smell awfully good. The Gloria's mighty pretty, but Dizzy Gillespie's got a "Deo" thing going, too.

Blessed.

2011-08-03T11:57:00.003-04:00

"The interest is up and the Stock Market's down, and you only get mugged if you go downtown", Hank Williams, Jr. opined in an old song. He found some stuff to get excited about, anyway (in addition to "A Country Boy Can Survive" he's unequivocally stated that, if Heaven ain't a lot like Dixie, he doesn't want to go. 'Course, if Heaven ain't a lot like Dixie, he probably won't be invited). It's all about perspective, I guess. I've found God in some interesting places, as I've mention before in myPlato and a Platypus post, but you gotta kept your ears and eyes open. Like everyone, I've got some challenges, but I'm grateful for my lovely bride, my good health, and the chance- if only a small one- to help folks once in awhile. Lucinda Williams found blessings in some strange places, too (but if you'd rather listen to Bocephus, you can).

Lucinda.

Hank.

Stupid Signs, Part XV.

2011-08-02T08:28:00.007-04:00

Yellow? These guys need to consult their kindergarten color wheel: that truck is orange.

Well, yeah...

Nah, that's a helmet.

I Can See for Miles, and Miles...

2011-08-01T08:45:00.005-04:00

As I sat in traffic at a dead stop for ages, a Who classic taunted me. You can sort of hear it on the video below:

As if.

Alison M. and the Deathly Hallows.

2011-07-29T10:45:00.004-04:00

Brother Andy and his lovely daughter, Alison, stopped by at the conclusion of their college tour last weekend. Andy and Ali visited Emory, Wake Forest, Elon, Furman, Duke, UNC, and UVa, then spent the night in the Boro (which is about half-way between Charlottesville and Tampa). Ali's a smart gal, you see; and she has choices. I'm fairly sure she's never made anything but an "A" in any class she's taken, and her S.A.T. scores got her an invite to apply to all sorts of schools, including Yale. Yeah, yeah, but more impressive still...

...is that she proudly sports earrings inspired by Harry's Potter's "Deathly Hallows".

Fun with Food.

2011-07-25T07:25:00.001-04:00

Friday and Saturday the local National Guard Armory building was home to a "Pack-a-Thon" sponsored by Colleton County based charitable organization Haiti Under God. Teams of 17 people per team trekked to the armory to assemble ready-to-boil "one pot meal" bags consisting of rice, soy, vitamins and veggies, and pack them into Haiti-bound crates. St. Jude's team was one of six teams at the Saturday Noon to Two shift.

First, we had to get orientated. The crowed gathered just past some already assembled boxes to learn the procedure. Lots of kind souls showed up to share in the fun. In addition to the people to assemble and pack the food, each team had to pony-up more than a thousand dollars to pay for the shipping and other costs associated with getting it to the people in Haiti who need it.

There are Methodists in this madness! Newly elected Walterboro City Councilman Bobby Bonds and his family joined other members from his church to help out. Note the hair-nets. Bobby probably didn't mind it so much, but son Jack looks a little less enthralled by this sartorially un-splendid, but necessary, accessory...

...but St. Jude's Susan McConnell and Tom Lohr know how to rock a hair-net!

Then the fun begins. Boxes are assembled; labels applied to bags; bins of rice, soy, vitamin and veggies are brought to the tables; scoops of the various ingredients are dumped into funnels and into bags, sealed, and weighed; the bags are packed into boxes, which are marked by table and facility where the packing is done;

the boxes are weighed, taped shut, and loaded onto pallets; the pallets are sealed up and fork-lifted onto a truck to be sent to port; where they will be shipped to Port Au Prince, Haiti.

At the end, we all said a prayer over one of the crates, and let the next shift take over.

Sounds like a lot of work, doesn't it? Maybe it was, but it was also a lot of fun. Can't wait to do it again next year. Take a look at the action in the little clip below:

The Air that I Breathe.

2011-07-21T07:51:00.005-04:00

This article's from the Post and Courier got me thinking about the Hollies' song.

They sure sounded better than they looked!1970's Neil Diamond called the lead singer and wants his hair back.

Come to think of it, present day Neil Diamond called 1970's Neil Diamond and wants his hair back. Me? I just want decent air to breathe (okay, and maybe my 1970's hair!).

Mr. Magoo.

2011-07-19T10:36:00.002-04:00

One of the things about getting, you know, older that is not all that great is you don't see so well. I've had bifocals for about four years now, but I've only recently started to wear them. Trees, as it happens, have leaves. I knew this instinctively, of course, and I have memories of leaves; however, I've only recently been reacquainted with leaves on account of the glasses. No more Magoo for SuperDave.

Harry Potter, Ecclesiastes, and Mushrooms.

2011-07-15T20:07:00.004-04:00

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens". I've quoted from Ecclesiastes before, and I probably will again. What's got me going on the circle of life this time is Harry Potter and mushrooms. Lady Di and I caught the last Harry Potter on Saturday night (I know, all the real Potter-philes caught it at the Thursday/Friday Midnight show, but I had to work). I loved it, as I knew I would; but I was sad, as I knew I would be. I've read all the books at least twice, and I've seen all the movies more than that (except the last one, which I'd only seen once), so I knew that it had to end and I knew how it would end.

Still, endings are are sad, even if, as Semisonic said a decade ago, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end".

World Changers.

2011-07-14T13:00:00.006-04:00

When the Israelites cried out for help in Egypt, God sent them Moses; when a local family with a rotten roof and no way to pay to fix it needed help, God sent them 15 teenage kids and three adult chaperons from a couple of churches in North Carolina. The World Changers arrived in the Boro on Tuesday. This crew is spending a good chunk of their Summer vacation camping out in a school gym at night, and battling a heat index of about 124 degrees to strip off the old shingles, replace the rotten wood, and begin to put on new tar paper and shingles on a house in the Boro during the day. The least we could do is feed them.

My church, St. Jude's, has a long tradition of Community Outreach. I've posted our Thanksgiving Feast, and our "Whale of a Sale". Jim, Doug, Lady Di, Gale, Kim and her daughter, and I got lunch going today. We got an assist from Nick Martin, at left, packing apples.

Lady Di resembles neither a Packer nor a (w)rapper, but today, she was both.

After we got the lunches packed up, we left the safe confines of St. Jude's, and headed for the work site.

Jim doled out the food and drinks to a grateful bunch.

We only spent an hour or so for our part. These cool customers don't get off for a few more hours. Thank you, World Changers!

Killer Tunes.

2011-07-12T11:47:00.003-04:00

I was jamming to some Pop music on Sirius Radio the other day, and tuned in to a catchy tune. It was "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People. It even had whistling. Now, a tune with whistling has got to be good clean fun, right? Uh, not exactly. I looked up the lyrics and the song is about a kid that goes on a killing spree. This is not a new phenomenon: Warren Zevon did it in the 1970's with "Excitable Boy"; The Talking Heads did it in the 1980's with "Psycho Killer"; Pearl Jam did it in the 90's with "Jeremy". Oh, well, like they say, "Guns don't kill people; songs about guns kill people". Sumpin' like that...

Schadenfreude.

2011-07-11T08:21:00.006-04:00

I'll admit it: sometimes I take pleasure in other peoples' misfortune. The German word for it is schadenfreude. I'm not proud of it, but I take some solace in knowing I have lots of company. Don't believe it? How do you explain the success of these guys? My most recent jolt of schadenfreude came this weekend on the Interstate. I was cruising down I-26, just loving life, when this high dollar black Lexus zipped in front of me, and sped into the distance. I've been known to exceed the legal speed limit on occasion; consequently, I do not always see the S.C.H.P. as my friends, but on this day I was rooting for the Troopers to catch this dude. About a half hour later, to my glee, I saw the Lexus pulled over by a County Sheriff's deputy. And balance in the universe was restored.

There's Always Room for Cello.

2011-07-06T18:08:00.005-04:00

Friday Lady Di and I trekked to North Charleston to see David Gray in concert. We've been to three shows at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center: Indigo Girls, Celtic Women and this one. Compare this to the shows I saw with my kids: AC/DC, Tom Petty, My Chemical Romance, Green Day. Hmm. Seems I'm trending Adult Contemporary of late. No matter. David Gray was great. I knew of Gray's circa 2000 hit "Babylon", but have only been following his recent music from Sirius/XM's "Coffee House". I knew Gray's voice would be sonorous, but I was very pleasantly surprised at how good his band was. There were guitars- acoustic, electric, steel and bass, piano, drums, bass violin, and, surprisingly, a cello. The music blended quite nicely into a genre defying blend of pop/rock/folk/electric/jazz. Whatever it was, it was good. The music was excellent. The songs were well written and well sung. The lighting highlighted the songs. The narratives between songs were even interesting. Gray, it seems, is British. This was not a problem. In fact, he seemed to be representing the "cool" sect of Great Britain. In case you've forgotten, here's his first hit:

Monster!

2011-07-05T07:37:00.001-04:00

I was pulling weeds at La Maison Jaune over the weekend, and I ran into this monster. It looked sorta like a flea, but this sucker was as big as a small cat (which reminded me of a David Bowie song, reflected in the second clip below).

It had a really long spiked tail, too!
Here's my trophy weed at left. It took me ages to get around that rootball and pull it up. I shot it with a silver bullet and ran a stake through it, just to be sure it wasn't coming back.

(My mom, by the way, was not a David Bowie fan, and that song left her a bit cold. Ah, well, what are you gonna do?).

Celebration!

2011-06-30T07:53:00.002-04:00

Okay, so you probably heard that on Tuesday night the South Carolina Gamecocks won their second College World Series in two years. My FSU degree makes me generally sympathetic to the ACC, but I'll happily celebrate a Palmetto State victory. 'Course, around La Maison Jaune, there's an even bigger victory: The General Assembly overrode veto number 13, which would have eliminated funding for S.C. Area Health Education Centers. SC AHEC helps to bring young folks into health care careers, recruits health care providers into rural and underserved areas (such as Colleton County), and provides continuing education for medical professionals. AHEC employs many fine citizens, including, most notably in these parts, Lady Di. We're grateful to the General Assembly for helping to foster a better environment for medical providers (and for saving the jobs of quite a few deserving taxpayers!).

Making Mountains Out of, You Know...

2011-06-28T11:00:00.000-04:00

I've ranted about squirrels, it's true; however, my antipathy for "tree rats" is nothing compared to the bile I've generated for moles. Gotta get Austin Powers on the job!

Out to Lunch.

2011-06-24T08:32:00.007-04:00

I was briefly- very briefly- in Marine Officer Candidates School. Attention to detail, they hollered, could be the difference between life and death. Fortunately, daily life rarely offers such dire consequences for inattention.

Lady Di just spoke in Charleston to a national gathering of Health Administration professors.

Looks like a fair amount of work went into her name tag (and the "It's all about ME" is pretty funny). Sadly, they got her name and degree wrong: The name was accurate a year ago, but not currently, and her degree is a Master of Science, not of Arts (though I think she got an upgrade, she strongly disagrees).

Here's a lovely sentiment, beautifully painted, but... Well, all things are possible on a painted license tag, except spell-check.

Obvious Headline Alert, Part I

2011-06-22T18:57:00.003-04:00

As opposed to what? Squid? Peanut butter?

A Guy Walks in to the Clemson Extension Service...

2011-06-21T06:24:00.002-04:00

...and says, "I'm just starting a farm. I want to grow eggplants, but it doesn't seem to be working". "Tell me what you've been doing", the Agent requested. "Well", the Farmer said, "I went to the store and bought a dozen eggs. I dug twelve holes about four inches deep, and I buried 'em. I've been watering 'em regular, but so far, nothin'. What am I doin' wrong?", the Farmer asked. The agent pondered it for a minute, stroked his chin and said, "Well, first I'm gonna need a soil sample...".

By the way, this is NOT a Clemson joke. You can use any state's agricultural assistance program just as easily. Anyhow, I thought of that old joke as I savored Lady Di's eggplant parmigiana. Quarter-inch slices of eggplant dipped in an eggwash and breaded with a mixture of seasoned breadcrumbs and fresh-grated Parmesan cheese, sauteed in olive oil, and set in layers with tomato sauce made from tomatoes, garlic, onions, and herbs from the farmer's market in between. Sprinkle some Mozzarella on the top, bake for half an hour, and serve it on a bed of angel hair pasta. Good for what ails ya!

Signs, Chapter 12

2011-06-20T07:07:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure I understand what all of the traffic signs mean. They're supposed to warn us of stuff, or tell us what to do, right? The one at left, for example: What, exactly, does it mean? Are they warning mean of something, or telling me what to do? I'm confused.
What am I supposed to do with this one? Do I even want to know?

Stormy.

2011-06-16T10:00:00.000-04:00

Last night I was watching the Boston Bruins dismantle the Vancouver Canucks in the game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, and I noticed a severe thunderstorm warning report banner across the bottom of my t.v. screen. Mother Nature had the decency to wait until after the game before unleasing strong winds and dumping lots of water on the Boro. The water is needed, as the Boro has been quite dry over the past month or so. The wind? Not so much. Anyway, I've posted some weather music in Blues, Country, Classic Rock and Hip-Hop. Surely there's something to like in there, no?

Shoes.

2011-06-15T06:27:00.000-04:00

New shoes. Old video (still pretty funny, though you have to endure a comercial).

Try a Little Tenderloin.

2011-06-14T08:48:00.001-04:00

We don't eat a lot of pork at the "Maison Jaune", but when we do, it's way good. Lady Di marinated this pork tenderloin in a mix of balsamic vinaigrette, dijon mustard, honey, sea salt and freshly ground pepper. A few minutes on the grill, add some squash with a little feta cheese and some basil from the garden, an ear of sweet Silver Queen corn from the farmer's market, and a nice glass of Pinot Noir (you say pork is the other white meat? Maybe, but this red paired quite nicely, thankyouverymuch), and you're all set. Did I mention that you could cut the tenderloin with a fork?

Pregnant Pause.

2011-06-13T07:56:00.000-04:00

This has got to be a really tough month to be in the late stages of, you know, uh... Um, you know, when the stork is about to bring his surprise? Well, I guess it's not really that big a surprise. Anyway, Lady Di and I had popped in to the local unit of a large international super-center to pick up various and sundry items, and we noticed one of our fellow parishioners pushing an empty shopping cart and looking mildly agitated. She also appeared to be very nearly ready for a visit from said stork. The lady-for the purposes of this story, we'll call her Beth. This is convenient, because Beth is, in fact, her name- approach and Diane spoke to her. "Beth", Diane inquired, "What are you doing out and about this, uh, late?". After a few minutes of pleasant conversation, we got the gist of it: the stork is taking his own sweet time, and Beth was hoping that a walkabout would speed up the process. A walk was in order, but walking outside was not an option because it is really, really hot outside these days. This store is large enough for a good walk and, more importantly, it is air-conditioned. The empty shopping cart may well have been merely a prop, though we didn't broach the subject.

R.I.P. Tom McEwen.

2011-06-11T22:31:00.005-04:00

My brother reported to me that retired Tampa Tribune sportswriter Tom_McEwen_died. The eulogy that I've linked notes that McEwen wielded considerable influence in the sporting world, and that he was instrumental in bringing professional soccer to Tampa, as well as football and hockey franchises. I remember his column, "The Morning After". I read it all the time in my youth. I remember how he used to write about what his wife had prepared for him for breakfast. He wrote things like, "Along with your freshly squeezed orange juice, and toasted English Muffin, these morsels..." Then he break into his story. I liked the stories too, of course, but it was his listing of what he'd had for breakfast that has stayed with me over the past forty years or so.

William Shakespeare, Franz Kafka, and Emilio Estevez Walk into a Bar...

2011-06-10T07:38:00.003-04:00

Lady Di and I saw two of the plays featured at this year's Spoleto Festival: The Cripple of Inishmaan and "The Understudy". The Irish production of "The Cripple of Inishmaan" has gotten rave reviews in performances throughout the U.S. I haven't checked the reviews for "The Understudy", but I can tell you I enjoyed it immensely. Both plays focus on the absurdity and futility of life. You know: the meaning of life is that there is no meaning to life. That sort of stuff. The Understudy does it overtly, as it is centered around a play about Existentialist writer Franz_Kafka. The Cripple of Inishmaan doesn't refer to Existentialist writers, but, well, it's Irish, and absurdity is sort of in their DNA.

That got me thinking about some of my favorite existential quotes through history. Here is a sampling:

"For who knows what is good for a person in life, during the few and meaningless days they pass through like a shadow? Who can tell them what will happen under the sun after they are gone?" Ecclesiastes 6:12 (NIV)

You think that Bible verse might've influenced the World's greatest playwrite?

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

William Shakespeare, "Macbeth" Act 5, scene 5, 19–28

Charlie isn't the only of Martin Sheen's kids that's into absurdity and futility: AndyMan likes to quote Emilio Estevez (who was playing the role of William Bonney in Young Guns II, and has this discussion upon being cornered by folks that meant to kill him): "You remember the stories John use to tell us about the the three chinamen playing Fantan? This guy runs up to them and says, "Hey, the world's coming to an end!" and the first one says, "Well, I best go to the mission and pray," and the second one says, "Well, hell, I'm gonna go and buy me a case of Mezcal and six whores," and the third one says "Well, I'm gonna finish the game." I shall finish the game, Doc."

Today's "Luanne" comic strip has a nice spin on team existentialism:

What's the meaning of life? Douglas Adams told us the answer in "The Life, The Universe, and Everything":

You guys do what you like. As for me? I shall finish the game.

Baffled.

2011-06-08T08:05:00.004-04:00

I like birds. Lady Di likes birds. I've had bird feeders. Lady Di has a bird feeder. Squirrels like a lot of the same stuff birds like. Squirrels chase away the nice birds. Squirrels are the enemy. I've fought_this_battle_before. This time we've listened. Moved the bird feeder away from the trees, and bought a little metal wrap, called a baffle, to deter these tree-rats. So far, so good: the squirrels seem sufficiently baffled (and this guy gave me an evil stare). In honor of Spoleto, I've edited the photo to make it more, you know, "artsy".

Odd Man Out.

2011-06-07T07:50:00.002-04:00

I was watering the Marigolds the other day, and caught this lone orange and red dude amongst the yellow ones. Reminded me of my daughter. And my mom. And me. Teachers had a tough time knowing what to do with us. Smart enough, but kinda out of step with the rest of the class. Back in the day, my buddy, Dave Okamoto, incorporated the Harry Chapin song "Flowers are Red" into a highschool spirit week skit. It about sums it up, I reckon:

Spoleto.

2011-06-06T06:04:00.002-04:00

The Boro's only a hop, skip and a jump from Charleston, SC. Charleston is smack dab in the middle of their annual Spoleto_Festival. Spoleto's a really cool conglomeration of art shows, music and dance performances, and theater presented in a range of prices and degrees of difficulty. Check it out, if you get the chance.

Whatsa Matta You?

2011-06-03T08:15:00.001-04:00

You've seen the commercial with the Baby and the Italian tailor. You know the one I'm talking about: the one for the internet trading service. Well, years before internet trading- years before the internet, even- my brother, the Amazing AndyMan, lived that commercial. Like his brother, my brother can be kind of a smart-alec. Mostly, it's not intentional. Mostly. We just sorta see the absurdity in life, and we don't feel the need to keep it to ourselves. Case in point: Andy and the Italian tailor.

Many jobs and a career change ago, Andy bought a nice suit. It was, apparently, a nice enough suit that it came with complementary alterations. Now, we Mathews' are not known for financial acumen, but we not inclined to turn down anything if it's free; consequently, Andy was getting his new suit altered. Andy immediately noticed two things about his new tailor: first; he was a social sort who liked to talk. A lot. Second; he had not been long in Tampa from his native Italy. This was something that the tailor pointed out to Andy, but, because of the tailor's thick accent, he didn't really need to point out. All through the fitting, the dude is all, "No-a. No-a. Eets-a not-a like-a dat inna the old-a country" (sorry my Italian accent is-a not-a so good). Andy is straining not to tease this poor old fellow, being very careful not to mimic the guy. "Oh, really, kind sir? Is that the truth. Well, well". Andy was getting into it, and was patting himself on the back for his incredible restraint. They were getting down the home stretch when the tailor asked with great enthusiasm, "Now Howsa DAT?". Equally enthusiastically, Andy mimicked, "Oh, DATSA nice!". Somehow- and contrary to Andy's fear- the suit was hemmed perfectly, and the pants leg hems were not four inches different from each other.

What's the Big Dill?

2011-06-01T07:28:00.001-04:00

At her last trip to the Farmer's Market, Lady Di picked up some zucchini squash, mild red onions, cucumbers, local potatoes, and a bunch of fresh dill. The dill was sort of an impulse buy, but she decided to center a meal around the tangy herb. First there was a cold cucumber and onion salad marinated in sour cream and dill. The entre was grilled steelhead trout with a marinade/sauce of freshly squeezed lemon juice, olive oil and two pressed garlic cloves, and a healthy portion of dill. She grilled the fish in foil, then poured off the marinade and set it aside as a sauce after crisping the fish over direct heat. Potato pancakes (her mother, Leona's, recipe), with grilled zucchini and feta cheese, and a glass of pleasant white table wine round out a delightful meal.

Giant Lobster Attacks the Boro!

2011-05-31T07:48:00.003-04:00

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes this morning, put on my flip-flops and ambled across the drive-way to pick up the newspaper, when I saw this little guy trudging toward the hedges. The mudbug (we'll call him Manny. Manny the Mudbug), or Connie Crayfish, if you'd prefer, seemed a little far from home, but I suppose he'd be comfortable enough in the pond two hundred-fifty feet or so to the back of the lot. Maybe that's what he had in mind. Here he is in action:

Remember.

2011-05-30T08:00:00.003-04:00

In your prayers tonight, give thanks for the life of Eric, who died serving our Country. Eric's dad and aunt are old high school friends of mine, and I know how proud they are of him.

Red, White, and Blue.

2011-05-27T07:18:00.002-04:00

I'm not a huge basketball fan. I like it okay, and I generally watch College March Madness and I follow the playoffs in the N.B.A. I've been keeping up with the Eastern and Western Conference Finals (even though the games generally finish after my bedtime). It looks like the Dallas Mavericks have eliminated the Oklahoma City Thunder, and the Miami Heat are about to oust the Chicago Bulls. The games don't matter a bunch to me, but I do like their uniform colors. And I mean "uniform": the Thunder are blue and white; the Mavs are blue and white. The Heat are red and white; the Bulls are red and white. Look at the photo at left... where are they playing? Ironically, the visiting Mavericks are clad in blue, as are all of the loyal Thunder fans in the stands. The Mavs are on their way to face the Bulls or, more likely, the Heat. Either way, it'll be blue versus red. At least we'll know who is the home team in the Finals.

Silly Goose.

2011-05-26T08:04:00.001-04:00

Geese have invaded the Boro! Okay, maybe that didn't deserve an exclamation point. Anyway, while I was thrilled to see them, Lady Di informs me that she's watched geese come to and go from her Maison Jaune for years, and for her the thrill is gone. Apparently they leave parting gifts of the less-than-desirable type. Maybe B.B. King and Tracey Chapman were right.

Perhaps the term "silly goose" has become more offensive because of these. Least that's what the folks at South Park seem to think.

I'm Almost 50...

2011-05-25T08:10:00.001-04:00

What? Fifty-one is almost fifty, right? My darling daughter, Caroline, and her boyfriend, Jay, joined us for dinner last night. In addition to the lovely strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting pictured at left, we had grilled Omaha Filet Mignon, garlicky mashed potatoes, zucchini and summer squash with feta cheese, and a fine bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I'd say it went off with a bang.

Happy Birthday, Robert Zimmerman

2011-05-24T05:48:00.000-04:00

Okay, maybe you know him as Bob Dylan, and it's his birthday. Actually, we share the day. Last year I celebrated my birthday; this year I'm celebrating his birthday. I'm posting three of my favorite Dylan songs for his birthday. I'm not sure what he's doing for my birthday.

First, one of his sixties anthemns from his defiant youth: The Times, They are a-Changin'

A few years later, he changed:

Whatever his current value system, he had a Christian era, which I enjoyed immensely. This one's from his "Slow Train" album:

A Chard Experience.

2011-05-23T07:23:00.000-04:00

Lady Di's big on the Boro's Farmer's Market. That leafy bouquet she's holding is actually Swiss chard. The stalks are tasty and colorful, and leaves are a nice stand-in for fresh spinach in the weekly stir-fry. The carrots and red onions that are plopped down next to her also made the cut, together with some aromatic rice cooked with chicken broth and a little olive oil, four pressed garlic cloves, and chunks of sauteed chicken breast all coated with a lovely sauce of rice wine vinegar, soy sauce, crushed red pepper and just a bit of sugar.

Bike to Work Day.

2011-05-20T07:59:00.001-04:00

Happy National Bike to Work Day Everyone!

Trashed.

2011-05-19T08:00:00.001-04:00

I walked Bo and Brady yesterday afternoon, as I do every afternoon, and I noted a preponderance of roadside litter. Sad, that. My brother, the Amazing AndyMan, used to make a point during his ultra-marathon jaunts of picking up some of the various and sundry lots of litter he encountered. On my unquestionably more leisurely lopes, I'll occasionally pick up bits of detritus, too. Every now and again I'll think of that crying Native-American from the anti-littering ad of the 1970's. Remember? Sure you do.

Trump Card.

2011-05-18T08:28:00.008-04:00

Now that Donald Trump has ditched his fledgling presidential run, he may have time to play golf at one of his golf courses. We visited his Trump National Golf Course in Palos Verdes, just outside of Los Angeles; it is stunning. Here, take a look.

The New John Deere

2011-05-17T07:48:00.005-04:00

I just got a new mower. It's Deere to me. Lots of songs about it, too.

Good For What Ales You.

2011-05-13T13:11:00.004-04:00

I've toured breweries. I grew up in Tampa, and took the tour of the Anheiser Busch brewery there on more than one occasion. They used to give you free samples at the end of the tour, which may explain why my pop took my brother and me for the tour more than once. The oddist brewery I toured was the one in West Malle, Belgium. I visited Belgium- and my favorite Belgian, Dirk- a few years ago. Europe's Low Countries (as opposed to South Carolina's Lowcountry) are famous for their many high quality beers. The Netherland's Heinekin, and Belgium's Stella are but a couple of the more famous ones, but that's not the end of it: even their holy people do the brew. In point of fact, Dirk's uncle is a Trappist Monk in the monastery in West Malle, Belgium, and they make their own cheese and brew a right decent Ale there. I discovered the bottle of Ale pictured at left in Columbia, SC last year, but it started its journey in Dirk's uncle's Belgian monastery. Ain't that a kick in the head?

The Long and Winding Road.

2011-05-12T07:03:00.000-04:00

This photo from our hike at a park outside of Temecula reminded me of the Beatles tune. Not an original thought, I know. Still, it's a pretty song.

Cheep Trick.

2011-05-11T13:08:00.000-04:00

The Chateau d' Otis is a pleasant place. The back porch has a lovely view of the pond which meets the yard. Bugs and frogs have also noticed the nice venue, and sing its praises most nights. The dogs of the palace have not always enjoyed their neighbors. It's understandable, I suppose. The frogs and crickets can get quite boisterous. Here, give it a listen:

The dogs think it's a cheep trick.

Dirtbags.

2011-05-10T13:29:00.004-04:00

Los Angeles is a great sports city. During our week there, there might be any of three different pro sports teams playing. Two basketball teams (sure, the Lakers mighta got bounced in the second round of the playoffs this year, but they remain one of the most storied franchises in all of sports. Two hockey teams. Two baseball teams (sure, the Dodgers are going through some grief right now, but they remain one of the most... uh, you know). A couple of professional soccer teams. Several major colleges, with their own notable sports histories. 'Course, you know about Southern Cal and U.C.L.A., but how 'bout Long Beach State baseball? Officially they are "The 49ers", and they've made four trips to the College World Series, and are regulars in post-season play. Unofficially they have one of the greatest nicknames in college sports: the
Dirtbags, (second, in my mind, only to the U.C. Santa Cruz Banana Slugs). Jason Giambi's a dirtbag. So is the Tampa Ray's Evan Longeria. Jared Weaver's a lucky dirtbag, because he gets to play only a few miles away from his college for the Angels.

Long Beach State plays right across the street from the school where our hostess teaches, so we took in a game. The stadium wasn't full of fans early, but there were plenty of pro scouts.

Hollywood Swingin'

2011-05-06T07:47:00.000-04:00

Los Angeles is synonymous with Hollywood; Hollywood is synonymous with the promise of a golden career as a movie star. If you're both talented and very lucky, you might make the big time.

If you're talented, lucky and manage to stick around for a few years, you might even get a star on the sidewalk along Hollywood Boulevard, like everybody's favorite octogenarian, Betty White.

...or maybe even get your handprints in the cement in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater.

Wait, is that Debbie Reynolds?

Of course, for every Betty White, there are thousands of folks who come out West and never hit the big time. Hey, at least this guy's working!

The Boro's 2011 Criterium

2011-05-05T11:10:00.004-04:00

Walterboro hosted its annual downtown bicycle race last night (a/k/a Criterium). It was a blast. I posted it last year. If you want to take a look, click HERE. I left out the obvious Queen song last year. No such reservations this year.

You Say Po-Tay-To, I Say Po-Tah-To.

2011-05-04T08:50:00.001-04:00

Beverly Hills sports one of the premier shopping districts anywhere: Rodeo (pronounced Ro-Day-O) Drive. We have a Rodeo Drive in Colleton County, South Carolina, too; however, we pronounce it in the more pedestrian manner "Ro-Dee-O". See if you can distinguish between California's Rodeo Drive from the Boro's:

Julia woulda known the difference.

What am I, like, Twelve?

2011-05-03T22:06:00.006-04:00

Up on Griffith Observatory, high above L.A., there are some interesting views. You can see the sprawl that is the greater Los Angeles area; you can see the Hollywood sign; you can see interesting local flora. If you think like a twelve year old, and you're paying attention, you can also see some pretty funny stuff. Take a look at the picture at left. Lady Di is to the upper right, looking at me disapprovingly. Why? Well, she knows me, you see. Look at the foreground at the bottom of the picture. There's a plaque. I'll give you a better picture of the plaque in a minute. Now look behind Lady Di, to her left, more or less in a line from the plaque. See that couple there?

That's them, up close. I saw the girl and the plaque at nearly the same time. So, what does the plaque say?

Now, just think how funny that'd be if you were a twelve-year old boy. Welcome to my world.

I Love L.A.

2011-05-03T08:58:00.001-04:00

Los Angeles has a bunch of people. The 3.8 million folks in L.A.'s 500 square miles is nearly as many as the 4.6 million that South Carolina spreads over more than 32,000 square miles. Add in the metropolitan area including Riverside, Long Beach, where Lady Di's sister Andrea lives, and a few other cities, and you're talking nearly 18 million people. Many, many of those people drive cars, and all those cars spew pollutants, which is maybe why this pic I took from Griffith Observatory is so vague. Or maybe it's haze. Or maybe I've got to get a better camera. Anyway, L.A. has a lot of people.

A Moveable Feast.

2011-05-01T21:36:00.005-04:00

Okay, I'm not Hemmingway, and maybe Southern California is not Paris; still, Cali was still a moveable feast in my book. Lady Di was unable to finish this Lamb-Burger with cream cheese which she acquired at an outdoor bistro near Beverly Hills. Like Southern California generally, it was more than a reasonable person could handle in one sitting.

California Dreamin'

2011-04-28T20:41:00.002-04:00

I've been hanging out in the Golden State for the last few days, with little access to the digital world. I'll post something or another about it in a few days, I suppose.

Higher Education.

2011-04-17T16:19:00.007-04:00

I've been reading about how colleges and universities have had to fight for funding during these dour economic times (That's the Claflin College Panther and the Voorhis Tiger duking it out at right). Still, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting an institution of higher learning in the Palmetto State, as last weekend's tour of the State revealed. Left from Walterboro, home of University of South Carolina- Salkehatchie's East Campus (and the politically incorrect mascot moniker "Indians"), and took off for Conway, in the Pee Dee Region of the State. Conway is home to Coastal Carolina University which boasts PGA golfer Dustin Johnson among its grads. After completing the first leg of my journey, I headed for Greenville. Along the way, I passed Florence, home of Francis Marion University. I'm not sure which graduates of FMU are famous, but a couple of my buddies, Chris Phillips and Fr. Johnnie Davis have sheepskins from there. From Florence, I travelled through The Midlands, which house Carolina capitol city Columbia's University of South Carolina, of course. You must know that the Gamecocks are are the reigning NCAA baseball champs. From Columbia, it was on to the Upstate, where I passed Newberry College. Newberry is buddy Mike's alma mater (They used to be Indians, but now they're wolves). Just up the road in Clinton, you can exit to visit Presbyterian College (with the beautifully named "Blue Hose" mascot. You are predestined to either get that or not). Through Greenville, I passed both Bob Jones University, alma mater of fellow St. Jude's Vestry member Daron Smith, and Furman University, home of the Paladins (and alma mater of former Leto High School Falcon defensive back John "Whitey Butt" Zemina. After my stay in the Upstate, I headed home, back down I-385 to I-26 past Orangeburg, home of historically black colleges South Carolina State University, and Claflin University. I'm not sure how all these schools are doing in the fight for the diminishing public dollar, but I do know that Claflin University was whipping up on Voorhis at Fluor Field on Friday Night.

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning!

2011-04-13T09:27:00.006-04:00

This was the view from my front porch in the morning. Lady Di and I sitting in our red rockers. 63 Degrees. Freshly ground and brewed 8 O' Clock Hazelnut coffee in my favorite mug in one hand; the newspaper in my other. It ain't always like this, but it sure is nice when it is.

I Want My Mummy (or Zombie Day at St. Jude's).

2011-04-11T09:05:00.012-04:00

My mom was a nun. I've mentioned this before, but I may have neglected to mentioned that a mummy may have helped push mommy to run to be a nun. This shouldn't shock you: There're plenty of monsters in the Bible. There are the god/human giants called the Nephilim, of course. And this Sunday past was, apparently, Zombie Day at St. Jude's (and, at many churches who use the Lectionary). First, we started in the Old Testament with Ezekiel's prophesy of God's raising the dead in the
Valley of Dry Bones. After a brief stop-over for sin and death in Romans, we have more gore in John's account of the raising of Lazarus Now, the dude had been dead for, what, four days? Jesus' friend, Martha, said the body'd be stinking by now, but Jesus went on ahead thusly: "Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face". So, what do you think Mary and Martha saw when their brother walked out? A zombie or a mummy, maybe.

Which brings me back to mom and the mummy. AndyMan and I used to torment poor mom (or maybe it was just me. It's been a long time). We'd play tricks on her. "Mom, do these socks smell clean?" was mild. We (or maybe just me) stacked a wig-holder on top of a cloaked hat-rack in mom's closet one day. She wasn't sufficiently startled, so I enlisted my buddy, Russ, to play another trick on her. We wrapped Russ' face in an Ace bandage, gave him a black hat, and a long coat, and stuck him in mom's walk-in closet. Mom always came home from work, went to her walk-in closet to get rid of her coat, and came out to make us supper. You could count on it. Well, for some reason, Mom decided to change her clothes outside of her closet on this particular day. Russ, understandably, panicked. He had no desire to see mom changing her clothes, so he stepped out of the closet and said, "Hey, Mrs. Mathews. Do not be afraid. It's me, Russ". 'Course, Russ had an Ace bandage around his face, so what mom heard was "Rrr Grr Uhh Grr Hmmmph!", which scared mom a lot. Did it contribute to her later decision to join a convent? Well, it couldn't've hurt.

Bikes, Bikes, Baby.

2011-04-09T14:55:00.006-04:00

It's been awhile since I've been on a bike. I used to bicycle quite a bit, but somewhere along the line my bike came up missing. Lady Di remedied that by buying a bike for my birthday. Now, technically my birthday's still more than a month off, but, well, the weather's been really pretty, and late May's hot... Anyhow, Walterboro's "Eat Smart, Move More" project featured a "Let's Bike" day today.
We got up too late for the festivities, but we decided to take a ride down to the Great Swamp Sanctuary on our own. I bragged about Greenville's lovely park last post, but I do love our own little park (and it's a couple hundred miles closer to home).

Gotta be careful where we ride; there're critters everywhere.

Most of 'em won't bug you, though. This shy little fella could hardly wait to get away from us.

This dude was a good bit less shy, and we beat a hasty retreat after I snapped his pic.

Bye, bye, gator.

A Walk in the Park.

2011-04-07T07:42:00.007-04:00

This Saturday past, I travelled Upstate to visit my buddy, Mike, in Greenville (I didn't make it to Spartenburg, Aunt Maggie, or I'd've waved at your people).

Mike gave me a tour of the town, which included a lovely city park, Falls Park on the Reedy.

There's Mike, standing in front of the park's pedestrian suspension bridge. It was cool, and offered nice views of the park.
Like these falls.
Nice landscaping, too.
And, of course, the Reedy River.

Stupid Signs, Part 10

2011-04-06T08:13:00.001-04:00

Apparently new shoes and shirts don't taste as good.

Getting the Most Out of Life.

2011-04-04T09:09:00.002-04:00

Every work day at the Public Defender's Office I deal with folks that are suffering. They are accused of doing awful things, either because of the awful choices they've made, or, occasionally, because of bad luck or mistakes or malicious mis-statements of others. Whether they are unlucky, or just experiencing the consequences of their own wilful acts, all of them were kids once. Most of them have, or at least had, someone who loved them. What do you tell the kid who is going to prison for a long time for an act, apparently isolated and not in their general character, based on a snap decision that occurred over the space of a maybe only a few minutes? So what do I tell them? Mostly, I tell them that St. Paul, Martin Luther and Martin Luther King did some of their best work in jail or prison. I don't guess I can say it any better than Morgan Freeman did a few years ago:

Of course, you don't have to be in the system to be miserable. I think it was Richard Lovelace who wrote "Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage, Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage.” Guess we gotta free our minds, too.

Phone Times.

2011-03-31T13:20:00.005-04:00

Remember the days before "caller I.D."? You actually had to take a chance of speaking to someone with whom you didn't want to speak back in those days. Today's "Garfield" is improbable these days, but I remember when blurting out a greeting that would be perfectly appropriate with one caller- but grossly inappropriate with another- was a common occurrance. I specifically recall my Pop, after spending the day with his friends Judy and Manly Lawson, confidently predicting it was Mrs. Lawson ringing up the house. Doing his best Cary Grant, dad bellowed, "Judy, Judy, Judy" into the phone, much to the surprise of the salesman on the other end. Dad's Cary Grant wasn't that great, but it was, at least, better than that of Gomer Pyle's cousin, Goober.

Fowl is Fair (actually, it's excellent).

2011-03-29T21:38:00.003-04:00

I got a rare treat this evening: a Sunday meal on Tuesday. Skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut in half and lightly breaded and seasoned with salt, pepper and savory spice, sauteed in olive oil, with a gravy of pan-drippings, honey-mustard, lemon juice, and miniature mushrooms. Thinly sliced red potatoes baked with garlic, green onions and feta cheese. Add some fresh asparagus sauteed in olive oil, and some Norah Jones tunes playing in the background, and you've got a mid-week feast.

Socks Appeal.

2011-03-28T09:33:00.001-04:00

I like Dr. Seuss. I was raised on Dr. Seuss, and I raised four kids on Dr. Seuss. I also like running; though I haven't done a lot of it, of late. One of the things I like about running is that normally sane dudes are allowed to wear togs that are, well, not so normal. If Tim Burton were to adapt Dr. Seuss's classic "Fox in Socks" for running apparel, he might've come up with something like the the items I picked up over the weekend:

Okay, maybe that's a wolf. I still dig the socks, though. Like I said: with running apparel, allowances are made. Now I just gotta start running again.

One for the Records.

2011-03-24T09:27:00.003-04:00

Human nature doesn't change (Do you doubt me? Pick up your Old Testament sometime, and take a look: problems with power, children, anger, all that stuff hasn't changed much in thousands of years), but technology does. People, I'm told, used to tell jokes at watercoolers at work, then they faxed jokes to each other, now we forward them by e-mail. Among the constants I see in the many "you know you're old when..." e-mails I get from my middle-aged friends is "you know you're old when you own vinyl records". I own hundreds of 'em. I don't listen to them anymore, because I don't have a working turn-table; but, I can't seem to part with them. I miss the album art (check out Asia's debut album cover, at left). I miss big, readable liner notes. I miss stereo. Digital music offers lots of advantages: portability, and consistent quality after lots of uses are a couple of them. Still, after years and years of improvements in digital music, analogue sometimes seems better. Remember the 1980's group "The Cars"? Sure, you do. I own a couple of Cars albums. I remember the song "Moving in Stereo". It sounded great in stereo: the sound moved from speaker to speaker, right to left; left to right; front to back (if you had quad speakers). The first time I heard it on a Compact Disc, I was gravely disappointed. Where the sound used to move around, it just got louder and softer. Digital "Moving in Stereo" was a cruel joke. Subsequent versions got better, but, well, I still miss hearing "Moving in Stereo" in stereo.

Stupid Signs, Part 9

2011-03-21T10:02:00.000-04:00

I observed this sign in a Charleston location of a large home-improvement chain. The sign is not "per se" stupid, just useless. I asked the person at the department where this sign is posted if anyone in the store could read or speak Japanese, French or whatever that other language on the sign is, and he said, in clear English, that neither he, nor anyone else in the store read or spoke any of the languages- other than English- on the sign. Pity the poor Japanese tourist beaming with expectation as he approaches customer service...

Two Sheds are Better than One.

2011-03-19T08:16:00.000-04:00

I mentioned in yesterday's poor orphan shirt post that I've been working on a junior shed to go with Diane's big shed. When Lowe's delivered the box, I was perplexed: the box was hardly bigger than I am. How you gonna get a shed outta this? For being mechanically disinclined, I sure do get myself into a lot of "Mr. Fix-it" jams.

Maybe my buddy, Dana, can figure it out. Reading the directions? Is that even allowed?

Really, it's all about the toolbelt and hat (and Lady Di's hamburgers, of course).

After the first foray, which included a trip to the building supply store, and several trips to Ace Hardware, we got the foundation figured out.

On day two, we started to get some walls up.

Friend Gale, ever competent and always in motion, stopped in to the shed raising.

Dana teased my poor little cordless screwdriver. Yeah, well, "I'm rubber, you're glue..."

At the end of day two, we had the walls up, but I'd lost Dana and Gale for the duration. They were a huge help, but I'd have to soldier on by my lonesome.

Daylight Savings Time is tough in the morning, but I did have enough daylight after work on Monday to finish the roof. I'd leave the doors for another day.

I finally finished yesterday.

I wonder why they gave me all these extra parts?

All cleaned up and ready to load. Just call me David "Two Sheds" Mathews.

Getting My Shirts Together.

2011-03-17T21:15:00.011-04:00

I'm giving up the Big Unit. I bought a new shed, which I'm almost done putting together (more on that, later), so I can stop paying storage fees. Unfortunately, the big unit was, well, bigger than the new shed; consequently, I've got to cull some stuff. I got bags of old T-Shirts that I've kept, but haven't worn much. I've kept many for sentimental reasons. Maybe I'll give 'em one more look before I give 'em to Goodwill.

I've got tons of running shirts. I've kept a few, but you can only wear so many.

I've only ever gone to one Atlanta Braves baseball game. They were playing the Houston Astros, and our seats were right behind the visitor's dugout. I've held onto the shirt for years.

Nephew Rob got this one for a haunted house he set up for the Twins many years ago. Not many occasions I can get by wearing it, though.

I got this one free for getting a pair of running shoes. I used to like getting new running shoes, and I guess this shirt just reminded me of it. The shirt's gone, but the memories of my early running exploits remain.

I lived and worked for 13 years in neighboring Jasper County, and for seven of those years, I had a solo general law practice. It was pretty much expected in a small community that all the private law firms would support the local festivals and events. I loved doing it, and Relay for Life always got a hundred bucks or so (and I got a T-Shirt).

I used to enjoy attending the South Carolina Trial Lawyers Conventions. I'm pretty sure I went every year during the 1990's, and I always got a shirt. I'm keeping 1993, but this 1998 didn't make the cut.

I hate to part with anything SpongeBob related, but there just aren't a lot of occasions to wear this one. Maybe some big kid'll end up with it.

This 1995 Yemassee Shrimp Festival 5 K shirt comes with a story that I'll probably relate in a future post, but I can tell the story without the shirt.

This one is a special treasure: it's an old football practice jersey from the days of my youth. Even without the shoulder pads, it's not close to fitting me. Still, it was tough to toss this one.

Cross Pollen Nation.

2011-03-15T23:11:00.004-04:00

Spring, as you well know, does have its down-side: pollen. I dearly love looking at the pine trees; I do not enjoy breathing the pine pollen.
This yellow car is actually black somewhere under there. Pollen, it seems, is nothing to sneeze at.

Spring Ahead.

2011-03-13T09:32:00.001-04:00

Alright, so I lost an hour of sleep over the time change thing; Spring, at least, has sprung.

Mancke Business.

2011-03-11T08:41:00.003-05:00

The Boro is getting another Palmetto State notable: Naturalist Rudy Mancke, is visiting the Boro tomorrow. He'll be giving a tour of the Great Swamp Sanctuary. I love this little piece of wilderness on the edge of town, and I've posted on it several times. I've pointed out a bit of silly signage, and I've featured creatures I've seen along the way, including a hawk that dissed me, and an alligator that just missed me. I've seen lots of deer (including a nesting baby deer that lifted his head up from his hiding place just as I ran by), snakes, squirrels, wild turkeys, lizards, and all sorts of plants. I can't name the plants, but I'm betting Rudy Mancke can. Sadly, I'll have to miss this one, but I'm hoping someone else will be taking pictures.

The Mitch is Back!

2011-03-10T09:29:00.000-05:00

I got to see my old friend Mitch last Sunday. You might recognize him from the high school picture I posted a week or so ago. He and his lovely bride Gina were down in Chuck Town for a Tennis tournament, and they gave up a couple of hours to hang out with me and Lady Di and eat Thai food. Back in the day, Mitch and I were thick as thieves. We strode through the halls of Leto High like we owned the place. Mitch was voted "Friendliest" in our class of more than 750 students, and I was "Class Clown" (the following year, when my brother won that category, they changed the name to a much more dignified "Wittiest". Ah, well). Mitch is pleasant, fun, and a genuinely good person, just like he was back in the day. Here's to you, Buddy!

Ash Wednesday.

2011-03-09T12:59:00.005-05:00

On last year's Ash Wednesday, I wrote a serious post on the meaning of Lent, and on sacrifice generally. As you can tell from the stock photo at left that I poached from the Net, the priest or bishop in charge marks members of the parish with ashes in the sign of the cross. Episcopalians and Catholics have this service every year, generally using ashes taken from the palms collected from the previous year's Palm Sunday service. We walk around all day with soot on our forehead, while our well-meaning friends from other denominations point out that our morning's shower was not 100% effective. It's not forbidden for other Christian denominations to do it, but most Protestant denominations don't celebrate with an Ash Wednesday service.

There is something to be said for sticking with what you know how to do. A few years ago, I noticed that Tommy, a Methodist friend of mine from days gone by, had a red mark on his forehead. "Tommy, what's with the red mark?", I asked. "Let me tell you, Dave", he offered. "The Pastor at our church decided to impose ashes on us for Ash Wednesday, just as a new experience. He'd done this to about half the congregation, and one of the guys up front said, "I'm burning!". I thought he was just moved by the sermon, but then I noticed my forehead was really hot, too. Well, since that church didn't have any Palm Sunday palm leafs to burn, the Pastor just burned whatever he had around, which, on that particular day, turned out to be treated lumber". Anybody want to guess what you get when you mix hardwood ashes with water? Rookies!

Jump!

2011-03-06T21:50:00.020-05:00

Saturday's Eat Smart, Move more "Let's Go! EXPO" was a blast. Who knew that an expo extolling the benefits of healthier eating and exercise would be such a success- and so much fun! More than 200 people showed up for the one-mile fun walk. Not too shabby for the first year (and more than they'd anticipated: they only procured 200 finishers medals!).

Walterboro Police Department Chief Otis Rhodes was on hand to make sure things were orderly, and to dispatch his troops to make sure the walkers were safe. There were plenty of local dignitaries in the crowd. Mayor Bill Young gave a speech. Council Members Randy Peterson and Tom Lohr were also in attendance. Shoot, Town Council might've had a quorum.
Representatives from County Government were there as well: There's Diane with our lovely Clerk of Court, Pat Grant.

There's Lady Di with Chamber of Commerce Director David Smalls, and always effervescent Queen of Colleton County, Alta Mae Marvin.

We assembled downtown at about eight in the morning for the walk.

Local running legend Pat Rhodes was there to make sure the walkers stayed on the right path.

Looky there! We walked right past my church. A mile may not be much of a challenge for my brother or his ultra-marathon mates, but a lot of the folks out there have been flirting with diabetes and other health problems because of inactivity and bad diets. The men, women and children who got up early to walk through the Boro deserve a smile and a pat on the back.

Success!

We finished the walk to sign up for mini-seminars, visit the booths, listen to speakers (including Lady Di, who also got an interview with the local radio station (which was broadcasting live from the site)), and music and watch demonstrations on dancing, competitive jumping (the Lowcountry Jumpers were announce as "the third best competitive jump-rope jumpers" in the Country. I posted a short video of one of them jumping around below). Some of Diane's AHEC students donned fruit and veggie suits to press the point of health snacks. These gals coulda whooped the Fruit of the Loom guys, no problem!

Here they are without their super-suits, and with Kelli, another successful former AHEC student.

You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a health care professional, docs included.

I meant no offense with the "dead cat" reference, Smart Cat, honest!

The sound guy left early, and I had to work the knobs and stuff for the speakers and music. I wasn't very good at it. I guess my knowledge isn't sound. Anyway, the dude with the cables, here, came to help me. The cable guy's name? Larry. Larry, the cable guy. Honest.

I got tons more pictures, a few of which I already posted on FaceBook.

A Real Writer.

2011-03-06T11:47:00.004-05:00

It's somewhat inaccurate to say that I read the newspaper religiously. It's unfair both to my Church, and to the newspaper; as I take my Church more seriously, but I read the paper more regularly. If you're reading this, then you already know that I like to write. In fact, I've always been jealous of "real writers": writers that perform their craft well, and are paid to do it. I was delighted to spend a few minutes with a real writer yesterday. Charleston "Post and Courier" newspaper columnist Ken Burger was at Downtown Books and Espresso in the Boro signing his new book, "Sister Santee", and I stopped in to buy his first book, "Swallow Savannah" and get a cup of Joe. He told me that he was originally from the small, poor, rural county of Allendale. Mr. Burger is recognized across the State, and has been writing interesting things well for many years, and I'd mentioned I'd already known he was from Allendale. When I meekly offered that I'd written a few sports articles for the paper in the small, poor, rural county where I'd lived a few years ago, I kind of expected him to turn on his heel and walk off; instead, he said he knew the paper. Thanks, Ken, for grinding out good work and providing a regular dose of good prose. Thanks, especially, for making me feel, if briefly, like I might be a real writer, too.

Walk This Way.

2011-03-04T11:49:00.005-05:00

As the Director of the Lowcountry Area Health and Education Center, Lady Di is a health educator. She helps health care workers to learn stuff. She helps folks to teach communities about healthy habits, including behaviors that reduce the risk of diseases like diabetes. The Boro is hosting the "Let's Go Expo" this weekend, to encourage people to "Eat Smart, Move More". There'll be outdoor exhibits and mini-classes on various little things- fun things- for folks to do to live healthier. Shag lessons and Zumba. Vegetable gardening. Even a special appearance by SCETV's Smart Cat. There'll also be a one mile fun walk, which is a big deal for a lot of folks. I get to help, and I'm pumped about it. Shoot, maybe I'll even post some pix.

Ultra-Marathon Man.

2011-02-28T09:42:00.004-05:00

My brother, the Amazing AndyMan, just finished his most recent 100 mile race, The Rocky Roads 100 in California, in 22 hours and 21 minutes; good enough for a 9th place finish and a belt buckle prize worthy of Aaron Rodgers and the WWE. This morning's Parade Magazine featured an article about ultra-marathon darling Dean Karnazes. Andy and Dean have run in some of the same races. In 2009, Andy and Dean both ran The Great Western States Endurance Run. Andy said the race was brutal. He was the very last runner to finish, in 30:37 an 243rd place, but he ran every mile of it. Dean dropped after 19 hours, rating a final listing of 275th place. There is no doubt that Dean is a great athlete, and he deserves the accolades he gets. But my money's on my Bro. Congrats, A-Man.

Wreck.

2011-02-27T09:54:00.006-05:00

Diane and I got slowed down on U.S. 17 on the way to Charleston on Friday. Traffic came to a stop. We saw a helicopter circling above, and knew it portended bad things.
The chopper landed just a few cars ahead of us.
One of the wounded went by air, at least one other went by land. Must have been a pretty bad wreck.
According to the Post and Courier, It was. We're both thankful it wasn't us.

A Day at the Beach.

2011-02-23T08:31:00.004-05:00

When asked how he liked a job he'd recently acquired, my brother, the Amazing AndyMan, once said, "What can I tell you? If they paid me to drink beer and watch sports on t.v., I wouldn't like it because they'd tell me when to do it". Things change. I have it on good authority that he does like his current job... though they still tell him when to do it. The Public Defender's Office isn't a bad gig, all in all. The other day I had a hearing on Edisto Island, which was, quite literally, a day at the beach.

It's Dew or Di.

2011-02-23T08:27:00.003-05:00

I was perusing the comics in the Charleston Post and Courier this morning, as I do every morning, and caught this edition of Stephan Pastis' "Pearls Before Swine" (or, if you want to read it in color, you can click on this link). I've previously posted on Pastis' puns. Before you get all "puns are alright, but Stephan Pastis is no Shakespeare", I want to remind you that Shakespeare was a pun guy, too.

The Red Rocker

2011-02-21T09:35:00.000-05:00

FYI: I'm not a DIY guy. I've mentioned this before. For some folks, the maxim "If you want something done right, do it yourself" is Gospel. Not so for SD. If I want something done right, I'll recruit somebody.
Still, I am a man, and I'm pretty sure the "Dude Code" requires that I try to do some things myself. I looked at the dull rocking chairs on our front porch, and suggested to Lady Di that we paint them. "White paint would look nice", opined Diane. "Ah, yes, Diane, but is not the theme of Walterboro's Chamber of Commerce "The Front Porch of the Lowcountry"?", I asked. "Why yes, Dear Husband", replied my Distaff Half. "And is not the symbol of this campaign a red rocking chair?", I pressed. Diane sighed heavily, and ultimately agreed that it was our duty to the Boro to paint the rocking chairs red.
.So, we checked our supply of sanding blocks, some white primer, brushes, tarps, cans, and mineral spirits, and supplemented our stock with several cans of Krylon "Banner Red" spraypaint at the local edition of a national discount super-store.

Then we sanded, brushed and sprayed throughout the day. Our work was not perfect, but it wasn't too bad, either, and we got our red rockers.

Dress for Success.

2011-02-18T10:55:00.000-05:00

I love the Boro. Really, I do. It has a lot of neat people. It is pretty. And a surprising number of amenities for a small place. You see people you know everywhere you go. 'Course, I forget, sometimes, that it is a small place. And that you see people you know everywhere you go. I specifically forgot this when Lady Di asked me to run a couple of errands. I'd settled in for Thursday night T.V., and was dressed to de-stress, not to impress. A too-small Tom Petty Concert T-shirt over my undershirt. Ragged shorts (made possible by temperatures in the 70's (maybe Punxatawney Phil was right, after all)). White socks. Top-siders. I was only going to be gone for a couple of minutes, right? Well, as I was filling up my gas-tank, maybe three carloads of my clients were likewise fueling their rides. I kept my head low, and I think I'd've been okay, but the pump wasn't having it. No receipt tape in the machine. "See cashier for receipt". Damn! I'm fairly certain I'd call her as a witness in a case. I detected a smirk, as she handed me my receipt. On the way out, I heard a couple of teenagers that I recognized from the office. "Naw, he ain't", says one. "Yeah, it is. That's the Public Defender". Hoo, boy.

I looked a little like one of Monty Python's Gumbies

Food for Thought.

2011-02-17T07:47:00.006-05:00

Jumpin' Jimminy! We're growing meat from stem cells in Charleston! That is to say, we WERE growing meat from animal stem cells in Charleston. The paper referred to it as a "meat lab". According to the Charleston Post and Courier newspaper article photographed at left (which you can link: HERE), the Medical University of South Carolina suspended the Director of the project for insubordination and "unacceptable behavior". The article also contained the following: "While the future of the meat lab remains uncertain, the suspension also calls into question the future of a separate project, a $20 million effort that aims to create human organs from a person's own stem cells". Hmmm. The Director in charge of the "meat from animal stem cells" is suspended, and the project for harvesting organs from human stem cells is in jeopardy. Anybody remember the early seventies Charlton Heston Sci-Fi movie Soylent Green?

Spring, Spring, Already!

2011-02-16T06:27:00.003-05:00

I'm tired of winter. Punxatawney Phil apparently told us February 2nd- on Groundhog Day- that we'd have an early Spring. I found that using Wikipedia, of course, but in checking, I was dismayed to discover that there are lots of different_groundhogs, that play this shadow game, and a lot of 'em thought we'd have six more weeks of Winter. Great. It appears this Groundhog Day stuff might be kind of arbitrary. Next thing you know, they'll be telling me professional Wrestling's fixed!

The Name Game, Redux.

2011-02-12T09:24:00.006-05:00

Though I'm a Florida State graduate, I first went to college in Tennessee, at "The University of the South: Sewanee" (or, as it is now called, "Sewanee: The University of the South"). Names are funny things. Shakespeare pointed out that a rose would still smell nice if you called it an old shoe, but names still have power. Diane and I went to the Charleston chapter gathering of the Sewanee Alumni association last night, and they gave me a name-tag that indicated I was "Sparky", though I'd never used the moniker at Sewanee. Whence the mix-up? Well, "Chip" Manning, one of my old classmates, was dunning me for a contribution, and I sent my generous contribution of, maybe, twenty five bucks an returned the gift card with the name Sparky. Chip apparently amended the records to reflect my new name. A couple of people at the gathering looked at me quizzically. "You look familiar", they noted, "but I don't know any Sparkys". The host of the event, Mark "Moose" Phillips, with whom I'd played football (and quaffed a few brews way, way, back then) gave me a funny look, too. Once I'd assured him of my actual identity, he loosened up, a bit (though he did watch his liquor cabinet closer!).

Happy Birthday, Baby.

2011-02-09T22:38:00.004-05:00

Today was Diane's Birthday (well, actually, it was the anniversary of her birthday. You only get one actual birthday). I took her to the Indigo Girls concert in North Charleston last night. It was a lot of fun. Today I made us a right respectable meal of: meatloaf (94% lean ground beef, a couple of eggs, some bread crumbs, ketchup, onions, Worcheshire sauce, and a glaze of ketchup, brown sugar and honey (and a dash more W-sauce); some red-potato mashed potatoes with five cloves of garlic and a bit of butter and milk; a steamed vegetable medley of broccoli, carrots and red onions with pepper; and a decent bottle of Cianti. It was pretty good, I think. Not in Lady Di's league, of course, but not bad. A middling from-the-box yellow cake (Duncan Hines, I think), with some raspberry compote in between the layers, and topped with home-made butter chocolate frosting (butter, cocoa, vanilla, milk and confectioner's sugar) that tasted better than it looked completed the meal. A pretty paltry gift for my wonderful wife, but I think she liked it anyhow. Happy Birthday, Baby.

You Don't Mess Around with Tiramisu.

2011-02-08T11:49:00.006-05:00

Among the treats Lady Di has recently prepared was a pan of tiramisu. Espresso, cream cheese, sugar (regular and confectioners) coffee liquor, lady fingers (I had to hunt at five different stores to find the ladyfingers, but it was worth it), and, what? Oh, what do you do with this batch of egg whites?

Or, as Michael Jackson had it:

Right, beat it! Mix the sugar, cocoa and cream cheese, fold in the beaten egg whites to make the filling. Drizzle the espresso/coffee liquor/confectioner's sugar concoction over the lady fingers, spread the filling and sprinkle some cocoa over the top, and refrigerate. I'd've taken a picture of the finished tiramisu, but I ate it too fast!

Ghost Whispering.

2011-02-05T13:55:00.004-05:00

I was messing around with FaceBook the other day, and took a gander at list of friend suggestions FaceBook recommended. I guess their suggestions are based interconnections that my FB friends have with their friends. I guess FB figures that if I'm friends with Mitch and Cathy, and Mitch and Cathy are friends with Betty and Bob, maybe I oughta check out Betty and Bob. So I did. As I scrolled through the list, I noted at least two people who have died: a local police officer and one of Lady Di's former associates (none of the folks in the pic at left are dead, as far as I know. I just picked the page randomly... Okay, it was because of the dude that looks like Elvis). It was kind of creepy. I declined to send friend requests to them, since it's pretty unlikely they'd accept (even Mark Zuckerburg doesn't have an app for that). Maybe I'll try the original social network connection: maybe I'll say a prayer for them.

My Old School, 3.

2011-02-04T17:10:00.002-05:00

One of my friends from the good old days recently posted this picture in FaceBook (Thanks, Julie).
See if you can pick me out of the crowd. Or Dave O. Or Mitch.

Ambiguous Headline Alert.

2011-02-02T13:25:00.002-05:00

I really, really hope they mean shooting BY co-eds.