St. George Island in November

We drove down US 19 from Griffin to Tallahassee, then over I-10 to the turnoff toward St. George Island. We made it around four o'clock to the beach. After getting everything settled in, we finally headed over to the Blue Parrott for seafood and a nice cold beer. I had my first installment of raw Apalachicola oysters this afternoon and Cindy gave me about ten fried oysters as well. Everything was so perfect, sitting outside, listening to the waves crashing on the beach, drinking beer and eating oysters. It was so perfect I turned down the key lime pie. For some of you that may seem sacreligous; however, it was already just too perfect. There will be plenty of time for key lime pie. And there just so many oysters in the bay, and I am just one man. And I only have a week.

As Mel Brooks said in Blazing Saddles, "Work, work, work."

Ha!

Gifts, Christmas and Anxiety

Cindy and I driving up to Dunwoody this afternoon, and the subject of Christmas came up, which is appropriate at this time of November. I suppose we all are thinking about Christmas, worrying about making sure we get something appropriate for everyone on our lists.

Lists, lists. Do we really need to make sure that everyone is equally gifted? Do we need to draw names? Is it really important to set a limit for how much we spend on everyone? Is it important to fulfill lists for Christmas gifts? Should we stick to the list or is it appropriate to shop and use our imaginations to find the right gift for our loved ones?

When I was a child, my parents made a great effort to ensure that each of us three children were equally gifted. This process was good for us kids, but I wonder if it didn't just drive my parents a little crazy sometimes trying to make sure we were all equally taken care of.

I remember one time finding what I thought was the perfect gift for my grandmother: a print of Bethel College, where my aunt and my grandmother went to high school. I knew she would enjoy it and Cindy and I had it framed for Christmas. It turned out to be a nice gift which was later passed to my aunt, when my grandmother passed away. Of course, the ultimate cost of the gift dwarfed most of the other gifts we gave to others that Christmas, but I really didn't feel bad about this unequal gift and I don't think anyone felt slighted.

At the same time, I sometimes think we go overboard in our gift-giving at Christmas. We struggle to ensure that everyone is adequately gifted, with no one receiving more or less than the other. It ends creating a lot of anxiety and hides the real reason why we celebrate Christmas.

I would love to simplify the process. Erase the anxiety. Relax and enjoy the season.

Its a thought.

Peaceful journey

When you drive down Georgia 85 from Woodbury, south toward Manchester, the road runs straight south and up the side of Pine Mountain, where a farm sits atop the ridgetop. In the twilight of the early evening, the pink and orange of the afternoon sun glows through the trees and bushes off toward Columbus and Pine Mountain. The car eases across the ridge and heads downward toward the flickering lights of Manchester.

Afterward, I head back north across the same route and the road runs up to the ridgeline and the stars are thrown across the sky as the crisp November air is dry and clear. It is rare to see another car, or even lights across the fields. It is only after you clear the top of Pine Mountain that you can see the lights of Woodbury off in the distance, down below the heights of the mountain. By the time you get to Woodbury, the cars are parked haphazardly in the darkness around the old juke joint, the patrons standing, talking in the darkness.

It is a short drive from Woodbury to Manchester and back. But it provides a significant bit of peace as you drive down and back in the growing darkness.

November moonlight

A silver crescent moon was on my shoulder
Tonight I rode Georgia 85 up from Manchester
And the road led me up over Pine Mountain
And the stars were thrown across the skies
Down in Woodbury, an old black gentleman
Wore his old fatigue jacket
And tended a fire in an oil drum
To ward off the November chill
And waved mutely as I passed the juke joint


My path turned east toward Molena,
A silver crescent moon was on my shoulder
And I passed the houses, light shining
Through the drawn drapes on the front windows
The blue of the television glowing in the darkness
The moon illuminating the pastures as I passed
The dark shapes of cattle lying in the fields

A silver crescent moon was on my shoulder
As I passed through Zebulon
My path pivoted around the courthouse square
The red brick courthouse standing stern
Lit up by the streetlights surrounding the building
The lights of the police station glowing in the darkness
Ever vigilant, ever standing guard

A silver crescent moon was on my shoulder

Ambulance chasers

Perspective. I try to keep calm and create perspective in my mind which might allow me to understand. I was listening to a television show and they were referring to "ambulance chasers" and I understand the source of the sentiment, I guess. You know, I wanted to be a lawyer so I would have be someone who had stature in the community. But I have met some lawyers who I would have assumed would be leaders in their communities and lawyers don't necessarily have a monopoly on leadership ability. I know that most politicians seem to be lawyers. I don't necessarily know why that is. A lot of people who go through college like myself, without a degree which would lead to a life of practical money-making, end up in law school. Kind of a second choice choice of life. I guess most of the politicians probably don't practice much law. John Edwards may be the only one I can think of who actually used his law degree to make a living (read: fortune) before he went into politics. His problem was he was just too good to be true. Rose too quickly and fell even quicker. I think a couple others were prosecutors, but, Hell, most of them only prosecuted for a couple of years before they went into politics and left the law behind. Of course, politicians aren't much higher than lawyers in public sentiment. On the other hand, we seem to give them our adoration and votes every two years. Or even quicker. We are required to elect them to fill the posts. The posts we create to take care of our governmental needs.

Still, lawyers aren't held in much high regard these days. It is sad. The thing I wanted just doesn't seem to be available on the modern occupational market. Oh well. Its hard to keep up anyway. I probably make people happy or mad in equal proportions. Today, I kept a client out of jail. Her accuser isn't very happy with me about now. Join the club. I am sure the ones who aren't happy probably just label me as an ambulance chaser. Or something worse. Its hard to justify yourself sometimes.

"I almost cut my hair...."

I wonder if my mother has any pictures of me with a beard from back when I was in college and would grow a beard in the Winter. I included this picture because it contains a likeness of a nice young man from Tulsa, Oklahoma named Claude. Claude was a young musician who travelled to Los Angeles to make a name for himself as a keyboardist, singer and producer.

He was part of the Wrecking Crew which was a group of musicians who backed other acts in the recording studios to provide a professional sound. A lot of the Beach Boys music was actually the Wrecking Crew, as were the Mommas and the Poppas, the Grass Roots, pretty much anyone who recorded in Southern California in the 60's.

Some of the Wrecking Crew made it as acts themselves. Glen Campbell, for instance. Dr. John. And this guy. From the picture, you might recognize the young man in the middle as Gary Lewis, son of Jerry Lewis and the drummer and signer for Gary Lewis and the Playboys. His mother is next to him. The man on the right is Snuff Garrett, a record producer for Liberty Records.

The clean cut young Oklahoman is Leon Russell. You might only think of him with a long beard and white hair. It just goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.

Hacking Weekend

It is Sunday evening. Yesterday began in a hotel bed in Dunwoody, then progressed to a borrower's house in Martinez, Georgia, near Augusta. Afterward, I drove back to Dunwoody where I settled into watching football and making dressing. In the middle of the afternoon, I went upstairs and got on line to see what was going with W&L and Hampden Sydney. Georgia had alreay taken the measure of Idaho State and found them lacking. Fortunately, W&L's offense kept them in the lead. They had two runners with heavy totals and their quarterback was on. Apparently, the defense did a good job too, creating five turnovers in the first half to give them a big lead.

Now they have won the Conference Championship and will play in the NCAA playoffs. That is the second time in five years. That is great.

Cindy and I have developed colds or something and we are on Musenex and cough drops and it makes us wake up in the middle of the night, which keeps us sleepy throughout the day. Well, Dunwoody won and the Falcons won. Sports highs can take you only so far. There is always another week, another set of games. You can only expect so much.