News From March 2009

The Escape

We escaped to a cabin in the Smoky Mountains for a couple of nights in March. Hot tub. Full kitchen and BBQ grill. Fireplace. Cable. The Little River burbling it’s way past our front door. Not exactly roughing it and by no means secluded – the park was dirty with tourists – but enjoyable in the illusion of seclusion. It was delightful to be forced to relax by not having phones and computers and stuff demanding attention. How bloody pleasant!

The Kidney Stone Kid

Four stones, count them, four. Two giganto ones, two pebbles. Like that family from my childhood that lived on the corner in their rundown ramshackle rumshack, the family you crossed the street to avoid because the kids were bullies and big and mean and the parents drank and swore a blue streak and didn’t give a damn. Yeah, like those guys.

Well, this time these bullies were all punching away at my left kidney. Last week, we blasted them to smithereenies. At least I hope they were blasted. You can never tell with a family like that. They’re just mean to the stone. But I took it like a man. Almost a man. As you can plainly see by the photo of me being wheeled in to my procedure.

Oh yes, there has been debris. Shards. I have proof in an old pill bottle. How did I acquire the proof? You really don’t want to know.

On April 1st, I have my follow up appointment. This is Chuck, my doctor. He used to be the mayor. How many people can say they have had the mayor put on his rubber glove and check their prostate. I take that back. Plenty of politicians have given their constituents the finger.

Anyhow, I am anxious to see if the mayor and I have given the bum's rush to that no-good family and it is my fondest wish that they have all pissed off. I cannot help but wonder though if a couple of them are still hiding a nook or cranny. After all, there are shadows and alleys a'plenty to conceal a dirty stinkin’ stone in this crazy place called Kidney Town.

Alberta Poem

My friend Jim Drinnan's butt is frozen to the Alberta tundra. He passed this on to me.

ALBERTA WINTER

IT'S WINTER IN ALBERTA
AND THE GENTLE BREEZES BLOW
SEVENTY MILES AN HOUR
AT THIRTY-FIVE BELOW
OH HOW I LOVE ALBERTA
WHEN THE SNOW'S UP TO YOUR BUTT
YOU TAKE A BREATH OF WINTER AIR
AND YOUR NOSE GETS FROZEN SHUT
YES, THE WEATHER HERE IS WONDERFUL
SO I GUESS I'LL HANG AROUND
I COULD NEVER LEAVE ALBERTA
CAUSE I'M FROZEN TO THE GROUND!!

Pang Addendum

"My panging was left hanging as I read about the minus 22 and drifting snow in Calgary tonight," he said as he looked out the window at the budding trees and blooming flowers. "I'll pang more when the frozen north thaws out. Until then, pass the iced tea and the funeral fan. It's warm down here."

Panging

I'm having homesick pangs and creating this poster for a fundraiser the station is having did not help matters. Most Calgarians should know exactly where this picture was taken. Anyone care to hazard a guess?

The price of the trip from TN is a whopping $4,500 U.S. (slightly inflated because of the fundraising aspect). And to think, I used to live a mere hour and a half away from this spectacular scenery.

Pang Pang Pang.

What's New - February 2009

The Monologues

As I strolled by the University playhouse on the opening night of “The Vagina Monologues”, I heard a booming voice from across the street. Looking up from my thoughts, I saw a towering red-bearded redneck with a red plaid shirt waving his fist in the air. I think he was fresh out of the hills. Which is to say, bedraggled and ratty and, well, anything but fresh. When he shouted, it was muffled as if he were yelling with his head in a sewer. I didn’t understand what he was saying but his loyal minions dispelled any doubt of his intentions by waving signs that proclaimed “Fear God” and “ Repent Sinners”.

Sadly, the minions weren’t all that loyal. After I moved on, apparently the police showed up, and the protestors scattered like ashes in the wind, leaving Mr. Muffles in the lurch. I understand that one of the officers tried to reason with him, telling him he was a Christian too, a Catholic. The redneck replied that he had no use for Catholics. I would have enjoyed listening to that conversation. This place offers no end of chuckles!

For those of you who don't know, I am one of those sinners - I designed the poster for that play.

Cass Warner

I had the pleasure this month of meeting and visiting with Cass Warner. Very cool person. The following is an article about Cass that I wrote for the PBS Membership Guide.


Cass Warner Sperling has storytelling in her blood. She’s the daughter of Oscar-nominated producer/writer Milton Sperling and the granddaughter of Harry Warner, President and Founder of Warner Bros. studio. You know, the studio that produced such classics as Casablanca, Sergeant York, My Fair Lady and yes boys and girls, that Oscar-winning rabbit, Bugs Bunny.

Cass was in Cookeville recently promoting her book and feature documentary, “The Brothers Warner”. Why Cookeville? Because that is the home of Dr. Michael Birdwell (my friend Birdie pictured left), TTU professor, historian, and author of “Celluloid Soldiers: The Warner Bros. Campaign Against Nazism”. Dr. Birdwell’s expertise about the Warner Brothers earned him a key role in the documentary.

In the WCTE studio, Cass talked to us about the Warner Brothers, Harry, Albert, Sam and Jack. “They came from nothing and had a huge dream. Every barrier, every obstacle was an incentive for them to do the next thing. We need more people with dreams.”

There were always movie stars in her house when she was growing up. One of her favorites was Richard Burton. “He always treated me like a person, paid attention to me, played games with me. He even taught me Skittles (an old European version of bowling).”

Her book and documentary tell the true story of the Warner brothers – from the humble beginnings and giant dreams to building one of the most innovative and successful motion picture studios in history. The motto of Warner brothers was to “educate, entertain and enlighten”, and it’s a legacy motto that Cass Warner and her company “The Warner Sisters” take to heart.

You can find out more about Cass’s “The Brothers Warner” and about The Warner Sisters by going to www.warnersisters.com. You can also watch for her on WCTE’s “Good News Breaks”.

The PBS Gig

I have one month of PBS under my ample belt. It’s going well. There are no princely sums involved, the computers and software are ancient, the joint is understaffed, and there are always last minute emergencies. There is so little money that I am amazed the place exists.

Yet it does. This small station more than survives. Last month they actually won an Emmy by partnering with a documentary filmmaker with whom I worked with when I first came to town. That Emmy, she’s puuuurty!

Behind my desk sits a TV. One afternoon, I was totally focused on some task or other when I heard my name. When I looked behind me, there I was! Scared the ever-lovin’ bejesus out of me. As the old joke goes, I’ve got the perfect face for radio. Unfortunately, I suspect there is more on-air stuff to come.

Meanwhile, I’ve been writing and designing ads, posters and a newsletter, plus coming up with guerilla marketing strategies (that’s what you call marketing when you have no money… and you like bananas). It's been fun. And I'm told that one day, if I am a very good boy, I'll actually get paid!

This is a Billboard I created for the... well, you can see why I created it yourself.

What's New- January 2009

Subject: New Prez

Subject: Aflaaaaaaac!

The big white Aflac ducks we had as pets have curled up their webbed feet and gone to meet their maker. We do not have very long or cold winters here but there is a winter, and this year it has been more frigid than usual.

In January, the pond froze over. Our then remaining two flightless Pekin ducks, Rosy and Buck, couldn’t escape predators by swimming out into the pond. One night in mid-January, some creature with fangs and claws came for them. The four black ducks were so traumatized by the event that they flew away. The Quack Lane is now duckless. Not quackless though, as there are at least two quacks living here.


Subject: Recognition

I’m proud of Elisabeth. She was voted “Teacher of the Year” by her teacher colleagues. After an interview at the School Board last week, she became the “Teacher of the Year” for the county. Next is the Regional level, and if that comes to pass, the State level. I do not believe there is a bathing suit competition.


Subject: Work

On Groundhog’s Day, I start a full time job at WCTE-TV, a PBS station here in Cookeville. I’ve been hired for a Marketing and Development position. I think that means I’ll be doing a little of everything. It is a six-month engagement.

On a freelance basis, I’m doing the promotion of the Drama Center summer production of The Music Man. I’ve also been asked to design a poster for the Vagina Monologues. I feel this poster will take a lot of research…

Even The Elephants Are Stressed

If you know what’s good for you, never tick off a pachyderm.

At first glance, it sounds obvious as hell, doesn’t it? In the same spirit as “never sniff a porcupine” or “never squat on a sharp stick”. But you’ve got to know that somewhere in this wacky world, there are porcupine sniffers and sharp stick squatters. And as sure as there’s dead stuff on the road, there are morons out there ticking off pachyderms.

A few years ago I took one of those goofy personality tests from a book called “The Animal In You” It told me that of all the animals, my traits were most like that of an elephant. After I finished laughing, I looked up the description and found grains of truth…

The Hal/Elephant is generally calm, confident, and has a large physical presence. It proves to be enormously disagreeable if it believes it has been wronged. These moods are rare. However, it is best to evacuate the area until the drama has played itself out… it does not suffer fools gladly, and for the record, an elephant never forgets… somewhat underwhelming with their plain, gray appearance… they pour a lot of emotional and physical energy into relationships… love to travel…. trustworthy, honest… when they set their minds to something, they don’t waver…

There were other similarities too and aside from the gray bit (I’m more pasty than gray), it was surprisingly kinda-sorta interesting in a nonsensical way.

(A short version of that survey may be found at the “Animal In You”: http://www.animalinyou.com/survey.asp).

I have always liked elephants and have felt a kinship, especially after I took that test. So it saddened me when I read that my relatives were running amok in South Africa. Acting aggressively. Killing humans. Worse still, killing rare, black rhinos. Hell, some jackass reported that the killer elephants were even raping the rhinos. I find that hard to believe.

So why are elephants laying the smack down on rhinos and humans and pretty much any poor animal sap that gets in their way?

For a hint to the answer, you could go back to the 70’s to South Africa's largest conservation area, Kruger National Park. Kruger had too many elephants. In those days there was no way to relocate these large adults. So researchers decided to kill the adults and save the children, who were more easily transported to other parks.

The young elephants did not adjust well. With the mature male adults dead, what was left was a bunch of troubled teenagers who didn’t have any role models and an excess of testosterone.

Obviously the experts that moved the elephants didn’t have any teenagers or they would have known that when teenagers run wild, rhinos get ravaged and ravished.

And then there are the poachers. And then there are the encroaching humans. And then there is the changing environment. And then there are the porcupine sniffers and sharp stick squatters. Push, push, push. And rather than getting the vapors like a good southern South African elephant, the pachyderms pushed back.

As always there are lessons to be learned here. Interacting with humans is stressful. Even if you are a calm, collected elephant-like creature, the world can get under your pale, gray, wrinkly skin. I understand stress can change behavior but I urge you, but please oh please, one must draw the line somewhere. Personally, I’d draw it at ravishing rhinos.

(The largest elephant sanctuary in North America is in Tennessee - kind of a spa for pachyderms if they can afford the airfare. It's at www.elephants.com).