Pig in a poke.....

Pig in a poke.....

Obama stepped in it.....I never wuz a ‘farm boy’....c’mon, I grew up in a tiny village down the road from a very small town.....South Shore, Ky...(where I wuz born) had a population of about 1200, give or take a few ‘n not counting transients....still, I know what a pig sty is ‘n I know enuff to watch out where I walk, either around a sty or thru a pasture where you got cows ‘n horses ‘n suchlike wandering around ‘n about.....
I think Obama is pretty smart....maybe even as smart as he thinks he is....’n I c’n see where somebody might have tho’t the remark about pigs wearing lipstick wuz a clever rejoinder after Sarah’s claim of the difference between a hockey mom ‘n a pit bull wuz lipstick...’n if McCain had made the remark (as he did against Clinton).
I’m pretty sure nobody would’a tho’t much of it....but he didn’t....he made it against Sarah Palin ‘n ev’rybody understood, at least ev’rybody in his audience understood...’n it got a good laugh....but the fact remains, he called Sarah Palin a ‘pig’....’n it wuz dumb, dumb, dumb../
Obama should’a known better.....

Willy-Bill's BBQ

Saturday afternoon Willy had a fam’ly bbq.....well, actually there was a b’day party for his grandson, Eric....
(he’s four) ‘n afterwards, a bbq ‘cept he didn’t burn the burgers the way Pop did.....David didn’t make it of course, he’s in India or Nepal, one t’other....’n Gina.....
Gina ‘n Andrew went to San Francisco for a whatever ‘n Gina had shrimp salad ‘n ended up sick....I never touch sea food of any kind m’self....I keep tellin’ ev’ryone that it’s bad for you but......
Had a fun time...got a chance to discuss politics with my liberal son-in-law.....he thinks I’m somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun...S’funny, I think I’m a centrist, that’s what I keep tellin’ m’self ‘n ev’ryone else...I was raised a Democrat ‘n I don’t feel like I’ve changed all that much over the years...I think the Democrat party moved away from me.....
I’ve been listening to the Dems slam Sarah.....well, everyone one ‘cept Obama, he’s been very careful not to be too negative about her....well, mostly.....I think slamming her is a dumb move ‘n Obama has been wise not to say much.....until yesterday when he made the remark that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig....now, all his apologists are saying he wasn’t referring to Palin at all....’n maybe he wasn’t...I don’t care...I’m tired of all of them right now.....
It’s September but it still feels like summer....well, maybe late summer....still, there was an article in the Bee t’other day about Apple Hill ‘n t’days mail brought an L.L.Bean catalog so I guess it’s Autumn.....time keeps chuggin’ right along no matter how I feel about it....it’s like my opinion doesn’t even matter....I’d feel bad about that except I’ve been ignored so long that I’ve gotten used to it.....ah well, it’s a big club, ain’t it.....
Dave’s back in India but he sez he’s going back to Nepal...my guess is (‘n since I haven’t heard from him, it’s only a guess) that he’s buying the Enfield ‘n riding it back to Nepal.....seems to like Nepal ‘n I’m looking forward to another blog from him......

All's okay.....

It’s a warm ‘n sunny Saturday evening.....Millyrose is in the kitchen ‘n all’s right with the world.....well, in a manner of speaking, that is...prob’ly more like, all’s okay with the world here in Ol Fair Oaks.....Willy is having a bbq tomorrow to celebrate his grandson Eric’s b’day (big four) ‘n Millyrose is making potato salad.....’n can’t be drawn in to the evening stroll down to the Catholic Radio Station and back....so, me ‘n Rusty ‘n Willie head off down the street....Rusty stays pretty close but Willie is always excited...he’s on extended lead, coursing back ‘n forth across the street chousing chickens right ‘n left...it’s his almost favorite thing....well, Willie has favorite moments every day, be it chickens or cats or strangers walking strange dogs on ‘our’ street...or maybe, a leaf, a piece of paper, anything that catches his doggy eyes....’n he’s a very observant dog...
At the end of the street, I make ‘em both wait on a short lead so we c’n cross the street t’gether.....I figure if a nut speeder is gonna get us, he might as well get all of us at once....Rusty is patient...he knows where we’re going ‘n he purty much knows what he’s gonna do when we get there...Willie, on the other hand, is fairly dancing with anticipation....he knows what’s on the other side also....There are chickens........’n sumtimes skunks....but mostly, mostly there’s The Evening Cat....The Evening Cat, always impeccable in his charcoal pinstripe is too cool....he almost (I s’pect he’s a he but I ain’t positive) almost always occupies the same spot, sort’a like his favorite booth in his favorite restaurant....I mentioned, didn’t I, that there are six women that take turns delivering cat meals to the Catholic Radio Station....well, not actually the Radio Station itself, but to the narrow strip of trees ‘n shrubs that act as a border....anyway, this evening, the Evening Cat is not in his favorite spot...
Willie runs to the spot, circles frantically, sniffs the air, the earth, the shrubs....he knows the Evening Cat is s’pozed to be there...he gives up finally ‘n allows me to pull him away ‘n we move to the grass strip at the rear of the property.....And there, in the shadow of a rather large eucalyptus tree, lounging somewhat languidly, it seems t’me....the Evening Cat.....Willie is elated, beside himself, dancing on his back legs pulling on his lead, his mouth open, his tongue lolling, there is nothing quite so enthusiastic as a young dog faced with a CAT......especially this cat.....the Evening Cat....
The Evening Cat yawned, stretched, ‘n at the last moment.... ‘n disappeared.
I tried to explain to Willie that it wuz all smoke ‘n mirrors but he wudn’t listen...he durn near bent himself double in a futile search for the Evening Cat ‘n I had to apply some little pressure on his lead to make him give up the search ‘n head for home...there were some chickens on the way back but Willie only made half-hearted attempts, I don’t think his heart wuz really in it
Rusty walked along beside me, glancing back ‘n forth from Willie to me from time to time as if commiserating with both of us.......
ah well, HBO is free this weekend, the temperature is s’pozed to drop to a more pleasant clime ‘n we’re going to a bbq tomorrow.....God’s in his heaven, I’m told, ‘n all’s purty okay in Ol Fair Oaks......

All lies 'n jest....

“...Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.” Paul Simon

Political conventions are a hoot, y’know? It seems t’be important which convention drew the most viewers...like the Olympics...the more viewers, the higher the rate for commercials....Wow! D’ya think it’s all about the money...maybe? Ah well, it’s all for show, ain’t it? I mean, does it really matter which side wins...don’t we all lose no matter what?...
Life picks at all of us, just ‘n unjust alike...there wuz a character in ‘Little Big Man’ Mr. Merriweather whose ev’ry appearance wuz marked by the absence of another body part...As Jack Crabb said, "It didn’t faze him, tho, deception wuz his life’s blood".....Mr. Merriweather said of moral order in the universe, “There isn’t any. Those stars twinkle in a void ‘n the two-legged creature schemes ‘n dreams beneath them, all in vain.”
I’ve been fortunate in my life....as my buddy, Vic sez....”I’ve got my threescore ‘n ten so all the rest is gravy.”
Life picks at all of us...it takes hair, teeth, body parts...if y’get the chance to hang around long enuff, y’gotta pay whatever toll it demands ‘n it don’t do any good to cry about it....
The little village of Beattyville which I’ve spoken of many times is a prime example...ev’ry year the Ohio River takes a little bit more of it ‘n one day it’ll all be gone...brother Jim likens the Carl Perkins Bridge (construction of which took away about a mile of South Portsmouth, homes, hillside et al) to the Alaska ‘Bridge to Nowhere’....not nearly enuff traffic back there to justify the expense ‘n besides, it’s named after a politician ‘stead of the more deserving rock ‘n roller....just another example of change that ain’t really progress..."all is vanity."

Schoolhouse Hollow.....

We moved to Beattyville right before I started Third Grade.......It was wartime ‘n a lot of people who had lived there were gone...the men either in the military, or away working in war industry. A lot of the women, also...
Anyway, from the Third Grade thru the Ninth, South Portsmouth School played a big part in my life.....as it did in most peoples’ lives back in those gritty days.
There wuz no television tho’ radio wuz popular...movies were a once in a while treat ‘n then not for ev’ryone....
I remember Mom crossing the street (would’a been an alley almost anywhere else) to play Bingo at Granny Williams’ little house....I c’n still hear Granny Williams calling out, “I thirty-dirty” followed by a laugh....ev’ry time.....’n there were quilting bees ‘n such, but mostly there wuz Church ‘n The School......
Now, Church wuz big back in the ‘forties.....durn near ever’one went ‘n not just once a week....there were meetings, ‘n socials, ‘n war drives of ever kit ‘n caboodle.(now there’s a phrase you don’t hear these days) but, the really big social events, the ones that almost everyone attended, the ones that got hashed ‘n rehashed wuz the events that happened ‘round the schoolhouse hollow at the South Portsmouth School.....
There wuz the Halloween party ‘n the Christmas Pageant ‘n other doin’s around almost every holiday there wuz but, there wuz ballgames......Basketball games.....’n they were packed....full houses every game.....See, basketball wuz a year-round sport in eastern Kentucky, heck, all over Kentucky ‘n Indiana....it wuzn’t just folks in Beattyville....there were basketball hoops dangling from barns ‘n garages ‘n poles ‘n almost any place you c’d hang one......no netting, of course, just hoops
‘n kids played year round....there wuz great basketball played in rinky-dink gyms in little ol schools around ever’ second or third corner.....way back then.....a much more innocent time......
‘Most ever’one walked to school...’course, ‘most ever’one lived close enuff to walk plus there wuz the added incentive of gas rationing....During the war years, a lot of people put their cars on blocks ‘n hung the tires on the walls of their garage.....if they had a car ‘n if they had a garage....’n even the few people that had both car ‘n enuff ration tickets to buy gas wudn’t about to waste either on on taking a kid to school...nope....kids walked.
Wudn’t a long walk for me ‘n my brothers, across the tracks, along the two lane blacktop that was Route 23, around the curve ‘n up the hollow......when I wuz a boy, that hollow wuz about a mile long but when I wuz grown, it shrank to maybe an eighth of a mile...funny how things shrink when you grow.....
At the mouth of the hollow was a triangular-shaped field where the bigger boys played baseball in the Spring...
there wuz a creek (crick, back then) that ran the length of the hollow...it wuz off to the side ‘n wuz a playground of sorts.....we’d play Tarzan (Johnny Weismuller, the ‘real’ Tarzan) ‘n swing from the wild grapevines that grew along the side.....sumtimes they’d hold but more often than not, they’d turn loose ‘n we’d take a tumble....
we took a lot of tumbles back then....every game we played seemed to involve tumbling of one sort or another....what with King of the Hill, crabapple fights, ‘n a running game of football that resembled nothing more than a gang fight.....
‘Course, when y’ don’t have teevee or video games to occupy your mind ‘n your time, you’re apt to come up with some doozy games....
I remember one afternoon that we spent half-naked, knocking down a huge hornets nest......I don’t remember anyone going home in tears but I c’d be mistaken in that memory......memory plays tricks like that, y’know....it did to me ‘n my friends ‘n it’ll do the same to you.

Stuff happens......

whether you're ready or not......

I’m not ancient but I'm purty darn old 'n I’ve been around quite a long time now and I know that in the long run, many of the big things that you think are important, simply ain’t. And the really important things in life are often those that you pay the least attention to....there’s a lot of truth in that old bromide that ‘the best things in life are free.’
This election which so many people are so passionate about is one of those ‘big things’ that will, over time, fade like old denim. It’s always been ever thus. (I never tho’t I’d have a chance to say ‘ever thus’ in any context)
When I wuz a young man, in my teens, the country was obsessed with ‘Reds’..(commies... for the ill-informed)..
tempers flared, lives were wrecked, people went to jail ‘n Dalton Trumbo had to write movies under a series of assumed names, alack-a-day.....I knew about it but basically I didn’t care as I was obsessed with girls....’n cars ‘n rowdy friends, but mostly girls.....
When I went off to play in the USAF (I like Ike wuz Prez ‘n there were no jobs for unleveraged hillbillies) the ‘Cold War’ wuz heatin’ up, the French got their butt kicked in French Indo-China (soon to become Vietnam) spies wuz spyin’ 'n lyin' 'n ever'one wuz lookin’ for an edge but, again, I basically didn’t care as I was obsessed girls ‘n cars ‘n rowdy friends, but mostly girls......
It wuz an interestin’ time in history when I came home...Lebanon was boilin’ over (‘n they say a watched pot never boils) I like Ike chose a side in Vietnam, I think ‘cause MacArthur told him not to, there still wuzn’t any jobs for unleveraged hillbillies ‘n a whole bunch of us out’a the military (‘n outa jobs) went off to college.....basically, I wuz still obsessed with girls ‘n cars ‘n rowdy friends but mostly one p’ticklar girl......
In the sixties came Kennedy ‘n Camelot, missiles in Cuba ‘n the Bay of Pigs ‘n Vietnam really hotted up but by now I wuz busy with stuff that really mattered......
Lotsa things happened over the next fifty years....situations got out'a hand, tempers flared, lives were wrecked....the old military term SNAFU pretty much covers life in all varied forms but the man who keeps his eye on the prize 'n his nose to the old grindstone is gonna be uncomfortable.....
‘N that’s pretty much the way of the world.....at least, from the point of view of a still unleveraged hillbilly.....

"Like a circle in a circle....

or a wheel within a wheel...”

Ev’ry litter bit helps.....We been sending our recyclables to the County....we wash ‘em out, make sure there’s no food items in there & tho’t we were doing our part.....
The last time (a few years back) I took our recyclables back to a pickup center, I got about $.67 for my trouble ‘n decided I’d let the County have it...what the heck? I pay Sac County fifty-some bucks ev’ry couple months to pick up my trash & recyclables......Now I find out that other people turn their can’s ‘n plastic bottles in for anywhere from seventy to a hundred fifty bucks....who knew they pay a nickel for a plastic bottle.....well, I knew that I paid a deposit but it was ‘way too much trouble to try ‘n collect from the stores......
It’s hard to not believe in recycling when you’re faced with it in so many ways t’day.....And it makes so much sense. Landfills c’n be messy places...brother John reminded me (‘n he’s still pissed) about a place called Buck Hollow.....we used to camp there when we were kids....it’s just up the hollow from South Portsmouth School which all of us attended in our way back when time....well, Buck Hollow wuz turned into a landfill for Portsmouth garbage.....John recalled how he used to play behind the school and how he wuz able to drink from the springs that fed the creek that ran out of the hollow....
groundwater’s gotta be contaminated now...Heck! I wonder with all the people in the world throwing their garbage wherever, is there any place left where a kid c’n drink from a free-flowing spring? I’m sure that there are places in the high country where people don’t go that the water is fit to drink but that ain’t the same thing at all......
We keep recycling politicians even tho' we ain't thrilled with the jobs that they're doin'.....The American Presidency, called the most powerful job in the world....ain't. I mean, they're purty limited in what they c'n do....'n it seems Congress ain't limited enuff.....I wonder, when nobody will 'fess up to liking any of our legislators, State or Fed, how do they keep getting elected? T'is a puzzlement.
In my way back when time, politics only came around ever’ four years or so.....I mean, you c’d count on the back roads of Greenup County getting a fresh coat of blacktop courtesy of the local pol who needed to keep their job.....the only thing that has seemed to change is now it’s purty much all the time ‘stead of every four years...’n frankly, ev’ry four years wuz enuff......