tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90671824922705647272024-03-14T01:48:20.295-04:00All Write By MePhil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-52035339782961047312011-12-19T14:11:00.009-05:002012-10-07T12:02:10.921-04:00THE I-CAT WAS NOT AMUSED AT CHRISTMAS by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WEwSv1i6ysc/Tu-DQub5-OI/AAAAAAAAAXA/Lm2yU8vmT5s/s1600/I-Cat1+Christmas+Angel+O+Tannenbaum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WEwSv1i6ysc/Tu-DQub5-OI/AAAAAAAAAXA/Lm2yU8vmT5s/s320/I-Cat1+Christmas+Angel+O+Tannenbaum.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
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A PERSNICKITY FELINE GETS HOLIDAY COMMUPANCE, A STORY IN VERSE.</div>
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We're the Imperial Cat; that would be</div>
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I-Cat to you.</div>
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Things are all a dither. We find ourselves </div>
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hot in a stew!</div>
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We are the Imperial I-Cat; we are not amused.</div>
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We are not impressed by Christmas. </div>
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We're Holiday abused!</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-miK8lJy8lwg/Tu-DZmaljlI/AAAAAAAAAXI/bfD-qq9dp84/s1600/I-Cat2+Lilly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-miK8lJy8lwg/Tu-DZmaljlI/AAAAAAAAAXI/bfD-qq9dp84/s320/I-Cat2+Lilly.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We are not amused by Santa with all his </div>
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Ho Ho Ho.</div>
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We're sick and tired of Christmas. </div>
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It's high time for it to go.</div>
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Neither are we amused by strings dangled before our paws;</div>
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Nor by balls, rubber mice, or yet more tales of Santa Claus!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ii-cPXDSsTY/Tu-DeLvgC_I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/QDEVRjNPPU8/s1600/I-Cat3+Broken+ornament+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ii-cPXDSsTY/Tu-DeLvgC_I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/QDEVRjNPPU8/s320/I-Cat3+Broken+ornament+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We're not amused by smashing Grandma's keepsake ornaments;</div>
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Nor by Mom, Pop and Junior in holiday adornments.</div>
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We are not amused by catnip sprinkled </div>
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in paper bags.</div>
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We're not amused by velvet ribbons, </div>
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lights or hanging tags.</div>
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We discovered our belly in sudden </div>
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need of washing;</div>
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That we couldn't finish; we spied bugs </div>
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that needed squashing!</div>
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We were diverted by arrivals knocking </div>
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at the door,</div>
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Then Lex, the neighbor's smelly dachshund, dashed across the floor!</div>
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We flipped our tail, ignored the beast; </div>
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a hairball we did cough.</div>
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We further were offended by the fruitcake </div>
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they'd dropped off.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qTiimauxulk/Tu-DjSeChyI/AAAAAAAAAXY/LaMlRJpxqTg/s1600/I-Cat4+fruitcake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qTiimauxulk/Tu-DjSeChyI/AAAAAAAAAXY/LaMlRJpxqTg/s320/I-Cat4+fruitcake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In disgust, we sharpened our claws </div>
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upon the wicker chair.</div>
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We skittered when Papa shouted, </div>
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"No! No! No, Cat! Not there!"</div>
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We dove for our secret hidey-hole, </div>
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and crouched out of sight.</div>
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Momma started scolding too; we might be stuck here all night.</div>
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These folks have yet to learn how </div>
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to properly address we!</div>
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But we shan't yowl too loudly; the bed and board come scot-free.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ioTnkZWPr_I/Tu-DoLhIEMI/AAAAAAAAAXg/hIphTJVq0Wo/s1600/I-Cat5+creshe+manger+no+Jesus_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ioTnkZWPr_I/Tu-DoLhIEMI/AAAAAAAAAXg/hIphTJVq0Wo/s320/I-Cat5+creshe+manger+no+Jesus_edited.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We rearranged the manger and hid </div>
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the baby Jesus.</div>
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Perchance we'll think to put it back, </div>
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just before Hell freezes.</div>
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Cattle lowing, sheep and camels, we found the creche well set. </div>
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Junior shouldn't play inside with trike or </div>
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new crash helmet!</div>
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We were vexed by cats' pajamas from our Christmas stocking.</div>
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We're not amused by mistletoe; that we found quite shocking.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cIAHa0kuLf8/Tu-Dsr08BNI/AAAAAAAAAXo/TL6GPBR5SnE/s1600/I-Cat6+Catster+christmas-cat-007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cIAHa0kuLf8/Tu-Dsr08BNI/AAAAAAAAAXo/TL6GPBR5SnE/s320/I-Cat6+Catster+christmas-cat-007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We sang no Christmas carols although </div>
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we know the lyrics. </div>
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The family blames our ill temper; </div>
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we fault atmospherics.</div>
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We were not amused by cuddles; </div>
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we struggled to be free,</div>
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But the jammies came with Velcro; </div>
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that's how it's gonna be. </div>
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We clawed to be let out; we felt </div>
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prerogatives denied.</div>
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Outdoors, the snow wet our paws; </div>
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we yowled to get back inside! </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kLVrHb7Sy2Y/Tu-Dxm5asSI/AAAAAAAAAXw/DYIvIe8X-Wc/s1600/I-Cat7+Lump+of+coal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kLVrHb7Sy2Y/Tu-Dxm5asSI/AAAAAAAAAXw/DYIvIe8X-Wc/s320/I-Cat7+Lump+of+coal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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For us, Santa left lumps of coal; </div>
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now those are some sick jokes.</div>
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Mom, Pop and Uncle Charlie just stepped out in winter coats.</div>
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That's when we lost our temper: </div>
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Junior yanked upon our tail! </div>
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We fluffed, hissed, fanged and spat; with our claws we sought to impale. </div>
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Junior is annoying when left to his own devices.</div>
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We've more important tasks: Tending shadows. Killing mices. </div>
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We're unimpressed by chestnuts toasting over open flame;</div>
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Now, chipmunks roasting over fire, that's our idea of game!</div>
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What's this? Mom and Pop are back with </div>
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Uncle Charlie in tow.</div>
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Yet another present, a basket with </div>
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a big red bow!</div>
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We pretend not to hear when informed, </div>
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this one is for we.</div>
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Snarl, spit and hissy fit! It's a kitten </div>
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under the tree!</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QaTPXdQtrns/Tu-D2a4M3wI/AAAAAAAAAX4/uHNaKUGDBfQ/s1600/I-Cat8+kitten+xmas+by+Catheryn+Carcamo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QaTPXdQtrns/Tu-D2a4M3wI/AAAAAAAAAX4/uHNaKUGDBfQ/s320/I-Cat8+kitten+xmas+by+Catheryn+Carcamo.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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It blinked. It purred. It raised a paw. </div>
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Heavens, that thing is bratty!</div>
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It blinked. It purred, "Are you my new Mommy? Or my Daddy?"</div>
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Though knowledgeable of the facts of life, </div>
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in the classics we've been tutored,</div>
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"For goodness sakes, Kitten, I don't know. </div>
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It's been ages since I was neutered!"</div>
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I flipped, sniffed and studied this kitten </div>
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from every angle.</div>
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Well, lo and behold, I mewed, </div>
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"I think I'll call you Angel!"</div>
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We went on a rip, raced all around </div>
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until we were exhausted.</div>
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Then a miracle! The tree's branches </div>
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all became frosted!</div>
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I showed our buffet; that Angel was famished was among my surmises. </div>
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At the litter box I advised, "Now, these people, they don't like surprises." </div>
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From the toilet I sipped, "The water is fine </div>
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for drinking."</div>
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Mom ran in stamping feet, "Cat, what on earth are you thinking?"</div>
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The kitten was tired; we were wiped out; </div>
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I groomed Angel's whiskers.</div>
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Christmas gone, something remains: Small purrs like elfin whispers.</div>
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In the end, when one's a friend, </div>
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Christmas is about caring.</div>
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"Snuggle close, Angel. My hidey-hole's </div>
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just right for sharing."</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztdmg7RTKTc/Tu-D7yHk2TI/AAAAAAAAAYA/z8MC802qP5o/s1600/I-Cat9+under+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztdmg7RTKTc/Tu-D7yHk2TI/AAAAAAAAAYA/z8MC802qP5o/s320/I-Cat9+under+tree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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THE END</div>
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Still want more of the Holiday spirit? </div>
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Check out my rap tribute to <a href="http://www.chucksambuchino.com/?page_id=2">Chuck Sambuchino</a>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gnome for the Holidays</i>! <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/11/no-place-for-gnomes-by-phil-comer.html"><strong>[go]</strong></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Text Copyright © 2011 Phil Comer. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Photo credits: O Tannenbaum Guy: Ryan Gosling "Christmas Lights"; "Lilly in Afghan" by Phil Comer; "Broken Ornament," unknown; "Fruitcake," unknown; "Creche Without Jesus," unknown; "Cat's Santa Pajamas," unknown; "Lump of Coal," unknown; "Christmas Kitten" by Catheryn Carcamo; "Cat Under Tree," unknown. Additional attributions will be made as available.</span></div>
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Unless stated otherwise, illustrations and links outside this blog are for information and are not the property of the author.</div>
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Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-27942074846796546642011-11-27T13:00:00.007-05:002012-02-13T18:16:05.869-05:00ESSENTIALLY by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Pepper spray... it's a food product, essentially." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://gawker.com/5861688/"><img border="0" hda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h0I6tqy1h2w/TtJxMh5z7SI/AAAAAAAAAUk/3QC9tG0DVjI/s1600/Essentially+Megyn+Kelly+FOX+News.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">FOX News' talking air head <a href="http://gawker.com/5861688/">Megyn Kelly</a> demonstrated yet again why people who watch FOX News know less than <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/21/fox-news-viewers-less-informed-people-fairleigh-dickinson_n_1106305.html">people who watch no news</a> at all. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Ms. Kelly and FOX News added their usual twisted spin - <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">deferential to authority, dismissive of victims' suffering</i> - to the tear-gassing of passive Occupy Wall Street protesters at UC Davis. That's why their audience-base LOVES FOX News, and the rest of us quiver. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But Megyn Kelly "essentially" opened a world of possibilities. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I'll start... Feel free to jump in. Anyone can take a whirl at the FOX News' spin game!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A TORNADO is a breath of fresh air, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A TSUNAMI is a memorable day at the beach, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1qHYBXhPcs/TtJxRVX2MzI/AAAAAAAAAUs/VLOVnVZk22c/s1600/Essentially+beach+Lovely+Ladies+1950s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1qHYBXhPcs/TtJxRVX2MzI/AAAAAAAAAUs/VLOVnVZk22c/s320/Essentially+beach+Lovely+Ladies+1950s.jpg" width="289px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">NAGASAKI and HIROSHIMA were urban renewal, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">GLOBAL WARMING is early spring, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">SEPTEMBER 11, 2001 was a sunny day, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">GEORGE W. BUSH was a president of the United States, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-viGUC2uiBb8/TtJxXg4yOVI/AAAAAAAAAU0/62GS9UvG7n0/s1600/Essentially+Bush+shoe+fits+wear+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-viGUC2uiBb8/TtJxXg4yOVI/AAAAAAAAAU0/62GS9UvG7n0/s1600/Essentially+Bush+shoe+fits+wear+it.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If the Bush Fits, Wear It"</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">EXTRAORDINARY RENDITION is a free plane ride, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">WATER BOARDING is neti potting, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST is a roaring campfire, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A TRAIN WRECK is Michelle Bachmann, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ilUTxbtbz3I/TtJxcyGushI/AAAAAAAAAU8/k8iQLwMOO-4/s1600/Essentially+Michelle+Corn+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ilUTxbtbz3I/TtJxcyGushI/AAAAAAAAAU8/k8iQLwMOO-4/s320/Essentially+Michelle+Corn+dog.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">ELECTROCUTION is a bad hair day, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A FIRING SQUAD is a ventilation service, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A FLAT TIRE is a chance to clean out your trunk on the side of the road, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">HORSE PUCKY is fertilizer, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x1uGU6oKS6o/TtJxkPbEv_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/b3co0JK_V_Q/s1600/Essentially+horseshoin+Kristen+Thomas+horse+shoe+guy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x1uGU6oKS6o/TtJxkPbEv_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/b3co0JK_V_Q/s320/Essentially+horseshoin+Kristen+Thomas+horse+shoe+guy.jpg" width="207px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">MUSTARD GAS is a condiment aerosol, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A BLOOD BATH is a spa option, essentially. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPNS6045hJk/TtJxptV-LHI/AAAAAAAAAVM/v0xYXAUOEDQ/s1600/Essentially+day+in+the+park+golden+spray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPNS6045hJk/TtJxptV-LHI/AAAAAAAAAVM/v0xYXAUOEDQ/s1600/Essentially+day+in+the+park+golden+spray.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A RIOT BATON is a French tickler, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A PIT VIPER is an excuse to jump and holler, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SsP0QwnlfU4/TtJxwzfWhiI/AAAAAAAAAVU/xD7iF6DcdSk/s1600/Essentially+pit+vipers+Robert+Crowell+Beware+of+Snakes+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="250px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SsP0QwnlfU4/TtJxwzfWhiI/AAAAAAAAAVU/xD7iF6DcdSk/s320/Essentially+pit+vipers+Robert+Crowell+Beware+of+Snakes+sign.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">LANDMINES are limb trimmers, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">SPIDERS are opportunities to squeal like little girls, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">MORASS is why men step-out on their wives, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A PIT BULL is a yappy fuzz ball, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fQYP_PL33fg/TtJx6t-PPoI/AAAAAAAAAVc/RVqdre0UyEY/s1600/Essentially+pit+bull+Beware+of+Dog+Sarcastic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="199px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fQYP_PL33fg/TtJx6t-PPoI/AAAAAAAAAVc/RVqdre0UyEY/s320/Essentially+pit+bull+Beware+of+Dog+Sarcastic.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">RAPE is an unplanned date, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">HIV is a less than perfect date, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hCFNAPok9hk/TtJyDfXGRkI/AAAAAAAAAVk/9rscMozEh54/s1600/Essentially+less+than+perfect+date+Yannis+Tsarouchlis+Seated+Sailor+reclining+nude+1948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="272px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hCFNAPok9hk/TtJyDfXGRkI/AAAAAAAAAVk/9rscMozEh54/s320/Essentially+less+than+perfect+date+Yannis+Tsarouchlis+Seated+Sailor+reclining+nude+1948.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Seated Sailor, Reclining Nude 1948," Yannis Tsarouchlis</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">DEATH is a white shirt with no wine stains, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PTOMAINE is a ptombstone in a choice of colors, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">BOTULISM is complimentary Botox, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">CARPAL TUNNEL is the latest wrist wear, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwTojxmyIlI/TtJyOJpBUtI/AAAAAAAAAVs/PQylX9RxmQ8/s1600/Essentially+wristwear+Side+Tracks+Bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="162px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwTojxmyIlI/TtJyOJpBUtI/AAAAAAAAAVs/PQylX9RxmQ8/s320/Essentially+wristwear+Side+Tracks+Bar.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PEPPER SPRAY is a golden shower, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">STONING is rocking to sleep, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY1VqlOl-uU/TtJyWkpMIMI/AAAAAAAAAV0/al2lcD80arU/s1600/Essentially+truck+on+rock+pile+Stone+Yard+WR+GA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="312px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY1VqlOl-uU/TtJyWkpMIMI/AAAAAAAAAV0/al2lcD80arU/s320/Essentially+truck+on+rock+pile+Stone+Yard+WR+GA.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">ARMED ROBBERY is charitable giving, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A HEAD-ON COLLISION is traffic calming, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KuBYjis2kp0/TtJyfb0MAoI/AAAAAAAAAV8/HOfhVl90SxY/s1600/Essentially+traffic+calming.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="238px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KuBYjis2kp0/TtJyfb0MAoI/AAAAAAAAAV8/HOfhVl90SxY/s320/Essentially+traffic+calming.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The BLACK DEATH was an errant flea circus, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">WAR is a failure to see things our way, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">CLAP is leaky pipes, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A BRAIN TUMOR is a senior moment, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XoO8yxQTJhA/TtJyn92wEpI/AAAAAAAAAWE/RRDVLXRUKJA/s1600/Essentially+Joshua+Frujillo+Dorli+Rainey_edited+Occupy+Seattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XoO8yxQTJhA/TtJyn92wEpI/AAAAAAAAAWE/RRDVLXRUKJA/s1600/Essentially+Joshua+Frujillo+Dorli+Rainey_edited+Occupy+Seattle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dorli Rainey has senior moment at Occupy Seattle</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">FORECLOSURE is two closures squared, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">MASSACRE is a bigger-than-43,560-square-foot playground, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">DEBT COLLECTORS are like that creepy kid in high school who had a crush on you, essentially.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">HOMELESSNESS is endless redecorating, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_R8bM29ZUI/TtJyzGhNG-I/AAAAAAAAAWM/w3oxjMhYKJM/s1600/Essentially+golden+spray+balloon.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_R8bM29ZUI/TtJyzGhNG-I/AAAAAAAAAWM/w3oxjMhYKJM/s1600/Essentially+golden+spray+balloon.bmp" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">MAYHEM is what you sing in church around Mothers' Day, essentially. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">CORPORATE GREED is the cats' pajamas, essentially.</div> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9qsPjZM-KMc/TtJy8eKkiuI/AAAAAAAAAWU/34PVpzgitGs/s1600/Essentially+warning+cat+tripping+zone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9qsPjZM-KMc/TtJy8eKkiuI/AAAAAAAAAWU/34PVpzgitGs/s320/Essentially+warning+cat+tripping+zone.jpg" width="271px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cat Tripping Zone</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Breathe.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ONkWSu2uaBk/TtJzEgfMWLI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Odhl9kwMHSk/s1600/Essentially+Yin+Yang+Cats+napping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="242px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ONkWSu2uaBk/TtJzEgfMWLI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Odhl9kwMHSk/s320/Essentially+Yin+Yang+Cats+napping.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That essentially is it, Pardner. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.yrabedra.net/home.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MfWoav3-jlY/TtJzQN7zioI/AAAAAAAAAWk/-AHMsWaUlDI/s320/Essentially+Ron+Yrabedra+Cowboy+and+rope.bmp" width="240px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Roping Cowboy" by Ron Yrabedra</td></tr>
</tbody></table> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But there must be more! Keep going, essentially…</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Text Copyright © 2011 Phil Comer. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Photo credits: 1950s Bathing Beauties, attribution unknown; "Bush Fits Wear It," attribution unknown; Michelle Bachmann Iowa corn dog, attribution unknown; "Horse Hoof Guy (Horse Whisperer, Not a Farrier)," photo by Kristen Thomas, model Doug Hanna (1975-2012); "Sunday in the Park with George," Photoshop artist unknown; Pit viper photo by Robert Crowell; Sarcastic dog photo, unknown; "Seated Sailor, Reclining Nude, 1948," Yannis Tsarouchlis artist; "Balancing Act," Sidetracks Bar, Chicago; "Toy truck on rock pile," photo by Rob Apsley; "Toy Cars," photo by Phil Comer; "Occupy Seattle November, 2011," photo by Joshua Trujillo, Dorli Rainey subject; "Pepper Spray Cop Baloon," photoshop artist unknown; "Cat Tripping," photoshop artist unknown; "Harmony cats," unknown; "Roping Cowboy," photo by artist <a href="http://www.yrabedra.net/home.html">Ron Yrabedra</a>. Additional attributions will be added as available.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Unless stated otherwise, illustrations and links outside this blog are for information and are not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-83525208323228807192011-08-07T20:44:00.002-04:002011-08-08T10:45:03.254-04:00PARADOKE CORNER - #12 “Lucille Ball” Paraprosdokian Tasty Bakers' Dozen<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. The Paradoke Corner Tasty Bakers' Dozen in the Lucille Ball category: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NtkYEuydr2w/Tj8uoadJIcI/AAAAAAAAASc/DzGMaTde3-4/s1600/Lucille+Ball.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NtkYEuydr2w/Tj8uoadJIcI/AAAAAAAAASc/DzGMaTde3-4/s320/Lucille+Ball.jpg" t$="true" width="213px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">13) A man who correctly guesses a woman's age may be smart, but he's not very bright.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">12) It wasn't love at first sight. It took a full five minutes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">11) I don't do T & A very well because I haven't got much of either.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">10) Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">9) Buster Keaton taught me most of what I know about timing, how to fall, how to handle props and upstage animals.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ixZ1vWdFWPI/Tj8utqoQjhI/AAAAAAAAASg/buUO0HleUFk/s1600/Lucille+Ball+and+Desi_close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ixZ1vWdFWPI/Tj8utqoQjhI/AAAAAAAAASg/buUO0HleUFk/s320/Lucille+Ball+and+Desi_close.jpg" t$="true" width="305px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">8) Once in his life, every man is entitled to fall madly in love with a gorgeous redhead.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">7) I earned my stripes as a hoofer. I've become a 'star dancer.' All I have to do is make sure my arms go up when the backup dancers' do. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">6) "Some of the most gifted people I've ever met are homosexual. How can you knock that?"</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qx69fTLIzCk/Tj8u8HZJNSI/AAAAAAAAASo/jgLAHb2rQF8/s1600/365gay-news-gay-men-grass-laying-main-07-07-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qx69fTLIzCk/Tj8u8HZJNSI/AAAAAAAAASo/jgLAHb2rQF8/s320/365gay-news-gay-men-grass-laying-main-07-07-11.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><em>But, technically, that statement is not paraprosdokian. So #6 gets a do-over:</em><br />
<br />
6) I think knowing what you cannot do is more important than knowing what you can do. In fact, that's good taste.<br />
<br />
<em>Ah, that's where I went wrong!</em><br />
<br />
5) The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">4) I'm not funny. What I am is brave.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">3) You see much more of your children once they leave home.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">2) My God, I'm outliving my henna.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “Lucille Ball” Tasty Bakers' Dozen Category:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">1) Yes, my hair is 'naturally red.' That's what it says on the bottle.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PSvN9Oic0P8/Tj8u3Y9bBSI/AAAAAAAAASk/h9YRC57Mopo/s1600/Lucille+Ball+and+Ethel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PSvN9Oic0P8/Tj8u3Y9bBSI/AAAAAAAAASk/h9YRC57Mopo/s320/Lucille+Ball+and+Ethel.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
Next in Paradoke Corner series, Outstanding in the Field! <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/PC%20-%20Outstanding">(go)</a><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Compiled from various sources. Paradoke Corner ranking by Phil Comer. In photos, Lucy & Desi, Lucille Ball, Desi Arnaz, Vivian Vance as Ethel Mertz (Getty Images), <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">anonymous models</span> (<a href="http://www.365gay.com/">http://www.365gay.com/</a>). </span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Unless stated otherwise, photos and links are for information and not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-86915359120920585142011-02-14T16:55:00.005-05:002011-05-08T16:51:29.530-04:00PHIL COMER INTERVIEW by Candice Dyer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D8Nsx5tqCo4/TVme3Z0WpSI/AAAAAAAAAOk/UzUH_4XFlEs/s1600/Candice+01+Mug1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D8Nsx5tqCo4/TVme3Z0WpSI/AAAAAAAAAOk/UzUH_4XFlEs/s320/Candice+01+Mug1.jpg" width="245px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candice Dyer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">North Georgia-based journalist and iconic free-lance writer Candice Dyer's work appears in anthologies and periodicals including <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Georgia Trend</i>, <a href="http://www.atlantamagazine.com/southwords/Story.aspx?id=1319767"><em>Atlanta Magazine</em></a> and <a href="http://gardenandgun.com/article/brazen-city"><em>Garden and Gun</em></a>. She is author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Street-Singers-Shakers-Rebels-Cause/dp/1934144096"><em>Street Singers, Soul Shakers and Rebels with a Cause</em></a>, a history of music in Macon, Georgia. A popular speaker, her exploits can be followed on her blog, <a href="http://anticsincandyland.wordpress.com/about/">"Antics in Candyland"</a>.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">On a recent visit to Sandtrap, Candice paused on the dove porch to brandish her sharpened quill over mimosas and fuzzy navels, the latter being Phil's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DoAvKko3egY/TVme8mBr5ZI/AAAAAAAAAOo/bVFKhpFMRTY/s1600/Candice+02+Peepers+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DoAvKko3egY/TVme8mBr5ZI/AAAAAAAAAOo/bVFKhpFMRTY/s320/Candice+02+Peepers+001.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peepers, dove muse</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Candice: What's the meaning of life?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Phil: Good Lord! I thought this was gonna be easy.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Don’t be fooled by my reputation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Do I get a "do over"?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>OK, you are a Southern writer in a long tradition of Southern writers. The wellspring of your creativity -- describe your Muse, please. And I don’t mean his abs.</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Yes, my muse comes shirtless, generally posing as one of the Village People. He forces me to pantomime "YMCA" to the doves' amusement. Creativity comes in dreams. My subconscious works overtime. People I meet in the supermarket inspire me. I'll talk to anybody. Reading, but rarely TV. Off-the-cuff exchanges that "click."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Is that where your Sandtrap sketches come from?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Yeah, often. Sandtrap is that fictional place that never existed, but should. It taps into growing up in a rural community within a drive of urbanity. Country folk seem more rooted in common sense. As a teen whatever I needed to know about sex -- animal, vegetable or human -- I counted on country peers, not the clueless urban Einsteins.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Agreed. Country folk are closer to the Earth; basic biology does not make them blush. Forget </i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>'Sex & the City' -- I'm waiting for 'Sex & the Country.' Manolo, meet Carhartt. So, you write about sex?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Did I say that? If so, I was quoting Gertrude Stein. She said, "Literature unconcerned with sex is inconceivable." Something like that. And here's to "show, don't tell."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Why do you write?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Three reasons. To engage the voices inside my head in conversation as opposed to chatter, to connect with the stories of those who've gone before and to give myself the illusion of triumph over life's absurdities. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HI7RKxrdK3E/TVmfCVwjFoI/AAAAAAAAAOs/lP5ETsQV84U/s1600/Candice+03+Phil+Comer+Sandhill+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HI7RKxrdK3E/TVmfCVwjFoI/AAAAAAAAAOs/lP5ETsQV84U/s320/Candice+03+Phil+Comer+Sandhill+002.jpg" width="318px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phil Comer, Home place, Sandtrap, Jawja</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>You've certainly honed a unique Southern "voice." What sort of things do you write?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I'm a scientific writer and editor by training. By avocation, I write all manner of stuff, fiction long and short, slice of life essays, novelty poems. Those are where that "voice" kicks in, slightly snarky, ironic. I've finished my first novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks</i>, the initial installment of a comic Southern noir saga. Humor and the human condition are integral to my work. I find it hard not to be funny.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>How does one write "funny"?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Most of my humor is inadvertent. Irony rather than satire.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>The glancing blow rather than the stick in the eye. What's the difference?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The best irony isn't planned; it's the mundane confronted with unexpected opposition. Satire is deliberate. I'm not above pratfalls, which are situational. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Watch out for that banana peel… Why blog? Why now?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Common wisdom dictates writers must blog. It's one more way to connect with readers. My <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/p/contents.html">"All Write By Me"</a> blog is not opinion, just content. Shorter things, entertaining, I hope. A virtual magazine of my work, and that of a few friends. I want people to read, respond and enjoy. It's not a "how to" blog, but I'd love to engage in Q & A with readers and friends. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tell me more about the novel you're querying.</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/p/ruby-cheeks.html">Ruby Cheeks</a></i> is the first completed of a trilogy. The title character Ruby abandons her son, the narrator, in childhood only to reappear forty years later as if nothing happened. His relentless quest to sort out the ghosts of her past unleashes "Southern-fried calamity," as they say. Of course, there's a supporting cast of "hothouse flowers," as Tennessee Williams called those eccentrics who flourish in the South, such as the flamboyant Sheldon Smoot, a spy in Occupied Japan who subsequently dressed in getas and kimono drag. He’s a hoot. A trio of ancient old-moneyed spinsters with pastel rinses, dubbed the "Easter Egg Ladies," <span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">holds the crux to the mystery. Old betrayals and deceptions that long entrapped Ruby crumble under an onslaught of revelation, but the biggest discovery for the narrator involves himself. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mGzroAVbJ1Q/TVmfFkzCW0I/AAAAAAAAAOw/KMIW9H7-62s/s1600/Candice+04+Jessica_as_Rebecca+by+MaryJane+Bates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="213px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mGzroAVbJ1Q/TVmfFkzCW0I/AAAAAAAAAOw/KMIW9H7-62s/s320/Candice+04+Jessica_as_Rebecca+by+MaryJane+Bates.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Ruby Cheeks</em>, a novel by Phil Comer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"></span> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Your work in progress?</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The second installment of the trilogy <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sapelo Queen</i> includes cross-over characters from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks</i> but takes place on Sapelo Island off the Georgia coast. In the delirium following a drinking jag, the narrator Sport Model inadvertently summons the ghost of Tallulah Bankhead. The Geechee/Gullah culture of the Sea Islands is imbued with “spirits and shades,” so Sport’s conjuring Tallulah's ghost becomes a connection between traditional and modern cultural beliefs. Tallulah is fun to write, and I hope a good read. She chews up the scenery, and the Lowcountry is a fragile environment, so I'm continually having to send her away. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Finish the sentence: Most people don't know...</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I owned a bar while I was in graduate school in college? For three years, The Last Resort in Athens, Georgia. It was a funky wonderful little folk-jazz-blues club. Now the place, same name, is fine dining. An amazing, raw experience I've never written about. But being around music and musicians infuses my work, not unlike your own. Your book on Macon music is stellar, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Street-Singers-Shakers-Rebels-Cause/dp/1934144096"><em>Street Singers, Soul Shakers, Revels With a Cause</em></a>. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sPZutcGcO9Q/TVmfIjw959I/AAAAAAAAAO0/nnJnG55U2X0/s1600/Candice+05+Dyer+book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sPZutcGcO9Q/TVmfIjw959I/AAAAAAAAAO0/nnJnG55U2X0/s1600/Candice+05+Dyer+book.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Therein lies a cautionary tale. What do you fear as a writer?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The next generation of writers may be ill-equipped to examine reality. So much at the moment is fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi "world building." We're kinda stuck with the world that's been built and the inscrutable forces that propel it. Let's tackle those while we can.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>What do you treasure?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Family, friends and beta-readers. I'm indebted to those who read my work and tell me how to make it better.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Beta, meta. I think you’re alpha! How would you characterize your writing?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Like you just said: Characters characterize writing. Characters who create their own dilemmas, are victims of their own vanities. I like older characters, because they allow time-travel into their pasts.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>You've recently been acknowledged in two major works of nonfiction, David Kirby's biography </i>Little Richard, the Birth of Rock 'n' Roll<i> and Richard Jay Hutto's sordid true-crime </i>A Peculiar Tribe of People<i>. How did that come about?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sExPwoBMjEs/TVmfK22djRI/AAAAAAAAAO4/cV5iq54Wlak/s1600/Candice+06+Kirby+littlerichard+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sExPwoBMjEs/TVmfK22djRI/AAAAAAAAAO4/cV5iq54Wlak/s1600/Candice+06+Kirby+littlerichard+cover.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Both books (Kirby's <a href="http://anticsincandyland.wordpress.com/2010/01/17/awopbopaloobop-meet-the-king-and-queen-of-rock-n-roll/">Little Richard bio</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and Hutto's <a href="http://anticsincandyland.wordpress.com/2010/09/23/he-was-that-diabolical-meet-the-infamous-chester-burge/">Peculiar Tribe</a><span style="color: blue;">) </span>reviewed brilliantly by you, I might add. <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/03/business/03flier.html?_r=1">David Kirby</a> is a phenomenal poet, writer and professor at Florida State. My partner Rob (Duck in the Sandtrap stories) & I met him and his wife writer Barbara Hamby at a house party on Alligator Point on the Gulf. He was researching a <a href="http://www.davidkirby.com/littlerichard.html">book</a> on Little Richard, and I planted the seed that he couldn't write about Little Richard without coming to Macon, Georgia, Little Richard's hometown. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">As you document in your book, <a href="http://www.maconga.org/">Macon</a> is arguably the birthplace of three genres of music: Rock & Roll (Little Richard), Funk-Soul (James Brown and Otis Redding) and Southern Rock (The Allman Brothers Band). Within two weeks of that conversation, David Kirby was in Macon, and he hasn't stopped writing about Macon music since. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Yes, Kirby is one of those astute observers who appreciate Macon’s glories and grotesqueries. Speaking of… How about Rick Hutto's intriguing book?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nW_-JCqVmIc/TVmfTjyTZgI/AAAAAAAAAPA/DBXM-z9sh6s/s1600/Candice+07+Hutto+book+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nW_-JCqVmIc/TVmfTjyTZgI/AAAAAAAAAPA/DBXM-z9sh6s/s1600/Candice+07+Hutto+book+cover.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In Rick's phenomenal <a href="http://www.peculiartribe.com/Hutto.html">true mystery</a>, a closeted gay man in 1960 has a perfect alibi but apparently murders his rich wife. The family parrot may, or may not, have been the only witness. The bird met a similarly mysterious death. I had recorded an interview with the parrot's veterinarian discussing the bird and the crime. I shared that with Rick Hutto.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>How'd you get the tape?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">After living and working in the Midwest, I recorded interviews with elderly gay men when I came back South. They led such fascinating and complicated lives. Glad I caught them when I did. They're gone now. In addition to the acknowledgments in Rick Hutto's and David Kirby's books, I was also basis for a character in <a href="http://www.alixstrauss.com/">Alix Strauss'</a> novel <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/031230918X/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=0312309171&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0A15TSER7KRC6DCMF7ES"><em>The Joy of Funerals</em></a>.<i></i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I43hSjCc-2k/TVmfVvj0HDI/AAAAAAAAAPE/I0KiXXKllMo/s1600/Candice+08+joy+of+funerals+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I43hSjCc-2k/TVmfVvj0HDI/AAAAAAAAAPE/I0KiXXKllMo/s320/Candice+08+joy+of+funerals+cover.jpg" width="206px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>You're kidding. How does a writer become a character (aside from embarrassing shenanigans resulting from too-much-hooch writers' conferences)?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Alix Strauss is a fabulous writer based in New York City. She's written a bunch of stuff, fiction and nonfiction, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Death-Becomes-Them-Unearthing-Brilliant/dp/006172856X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1292953538&sr=1-1"><em>Death Becomes Them</em></a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Based-upon-Availability-Alix-Strauss/dp/0061845264/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1292953587&sr=1-1">Based Upon Availability</a>. She tagged along on one of my cemetery rambles; then we went out for coffee. She complained of the absence of good coffee in the South. I felt the same when I moved to Chicago. Midwest coffee tasted like dishwater. Months later, a signed copy of <i>Joy of Funerals</i> arrived with the note, "You're Tom." She nailed my idiosyncrasies. Not that I admit to any.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>I’ll be placing an order for that book. What is it with you and cemeteries?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Good question. Why waste energy in cemeteries now, when there'll be time to kill for eternity? </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Generations of my family were buried way out in the country. Sunday afternoons, instead of football on TV, we drove to remote graveyards to visit dead relatives and tend graves. It was story time. I felt I knew all those people, when there was no way I could have. My mother had Native American blood. Cousin Ouu-Loo-Loo, a Muscogee woman kept old ways back in the woods. I remember her well, the cabin, how it smelled, and she looked, but now, I suspect she died long before I'd been born. Memory is a frail servant. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Hence your dusky good looks. The past is never past, is it, especially in Macon? You have played Chester Burge, the protagonist of Hutto’s book, at Rose Hill Cemetery and function as one of that grand, old cemetery’s historians, correct? </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Chester Burge and his murdered wife Mary are next door to Rose Hill at Macon's Riverside Cemetery, and I've had a ball playing his <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Chester%20Burge">"spirit."</a> I lead <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/01/group-shares-stories-from-cemetery-by.html">rambles</a> of <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/01/history-lives-at-rose-hill-by-dan-maley.html#more">Rose Hill Cemetery</a>. Such a beautiful place. Great stories to tell. My Rose Hill research has taken me to archives all over the state. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vvwj3JRAUrw/TVmfZzDAifI/AAAAAAAAAPI/PhpR4yapcX8/s1600/Candice+09+Rose+Hill+Downtown+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="254px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vvwj3JRAUrw/TVmfZzDAifI/AAAAAAAAAPI/PhpR4yapcX8/s320/Candice+09+Rose+Hill+Downtown+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Historic Rose Hill Cemetery overlooks Macon, GA </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>What's a "ramble"?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">It's part of Southerners' infamous "sense of place." It's a guided walk or drive reflecting upon what may or may not have happened on the ground upon which we stand. Rambles are part of oral tradition and generally check out true 99 percent of the time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>Your day job is as a scientist. Say something in science.</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I have earned my footnote. I discovered the mathematical relationship between changes in food consumption and weight gain in lab rats. Nutritionists and worldwide regulatory agencies always assumed the relationship was linear, one-to-one. Evaluating rat growth for a client, pouring over fifty or more studies in the literature, I realized the relationship was not linear, but allometric. Lots of changes in biology and nature are allometric, meaning those first small increments have greater consequences than larger changes later on. On a graph, it looks like a hockey stick, not the straight line that had been assumed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I proved the math and convinced the client, but they rightly pointed out, "Who's gonna listen to you?" So we enlisted a former head of food safety at FDA and a professor of nutrition at Harvard to be first and second authors on the manuscript with me third (<a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/14550756">Flamm et al., 2003</a>). That paper got attention, and scientists now view the relationship between food consumption and weight gain in lab rats as allometric, not linear. No one's done the human studies, but no reason the same shouldn't hold: the smallest changes in food consumption will have the greatest long-term impacts on body weight, up or down, say as opposed to periodic binging or fasting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>So I should avoid that first bite of cheesecake altogether and abandon my purging regimen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know you are rooted in and nourished by the South. Do you enjoy travel?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I'm fortunate to have traveled with work, on cultural exchanges and for pleasure. One can't visit Italy often enough. Love the UK, I traveled to England with work. First time I set foot in London, it was like a previous life experience. I knew my way around -- except for which direction to watch for cars as a pedestrian. Most amazing manmade thing I've seen? Petra in Jordan, a city carved in place from Technicolor sandstone. Most amazing nature? Staying at a treetop eco-camp in the Amazon, although I give high commendations to south Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QL3xjF5Wy78/TVmfemcXMeI/AAAAAAAAAPM/9WFuhNhFU7Y/s1600/Candice+10+Petra+Jordan+bright.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QL3xjF5Wy78/TVmfemcXMeI/AAAAAAAAAPM/9WFuhNhFU7Y/s320/Candice+10+Petra+Jordan+bright.jpg" width="223px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Petra, Jordan</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>If not the U.S., where would you live?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">New Zealand. People there worry about the right sorts of things. Rob/Duck wants to live on the road in a motorhome or Airstream. I could do that and write about it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i>How would you recommend writers hone their skills?</i></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Apart from writing and reading, go to all the writers' workshops and conferences that you can afford. I've never been to a conference that I didn't meet someone who became important to my journey. Not necessarily in terms of big industry types, but creative, sympathetic fellow travelers. Writers are very helpful people. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">You are helpful and inspiring. And just the right amount of naughty. We all will be waiting to see what you write next. I would suggest a personal memoir, along with those Southern Gothic novels. </b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Thanks, Candice. Refill?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Candice Dyer's interview with Phil Comer <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/02/phil-comer-interview-by-candice-dyer.html">(back to top)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Alicia Caldwell's interview with Phil Comer <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/12/interview-with-phil-comer-by-alicia.html">(go)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Video linked to title: "Walk Like an Egyptian" by the Cleverlys <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PS0P7w4YCDI">(go)</a> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2011. Author photo provided by subject. Phil Comer photo by Gary Cutrell. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks</i> photo by Maryann Bates, models Jessica Walden and Anthony Ennis. Petra photo by Phil Comer. Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this blog are not the property of the author.</span></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-81821041110538968902011-01-25T17:14:00.005-05:002011-10-24T12:37:57.901-04:00GROUP SHARES STORIES FROM THE CEMETERY by Jackie Finch<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Rose Hill Rambles teach visitors about history in Georgia</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">By Jackie Finch, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hoosier Times</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Herald-Times</i>, Bloomington Indiana (Originally published January 20, 2002) </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GADvf5FI/AAAAAAAAANw/prX1rhzCk6c/s1600/Finch+01+Rose+Hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GADvf5FI/AAAAAAAAANw/prX1rhzCk6c/s320/Finch+01+Rose+Hill.jpg" width="201px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">(MACON, Ga.) The physician was convinced the prescription he wrote for a patient was correct. The pharmacist who was asked to fill it was sure the medicine was deadly.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">To prove his point, the doctor swallowed the prescribed measure himself. He promptly died. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Dr. Ambrose Baber (1792 – 1846) is buried in Rose Hill Cemetery in <a href="http://www.maconga.org/">Macon, Ga</a>. His grave and bizarre story are shared in a Southern tradition known as a "ramble."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Rambling is part of the process in the South of having a sense of place," says <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/"><strong>Phil Comer</strong></a>, a member of the <a href="http://www.historicmacon.org/">Middle Georgia Historical Society</a>.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"One way you keep in touch with your sense of place," Comer says, "is through storytelling and going to the cemetery and rambling -- retelling the stories of people who have gone before."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">On this sunny afternoon, Comer is taking us on a short ramble through Rose Hill Cemetery. Now on the National Register of Historic Places, the 77-acre cemetery is one of the nation's earliest surviving public landscape cemeteries.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Twice a year -- once in the spring and once on the Sunday closest to Halloween -- the Middle Georgia Historical Society gives a Rose Hill Ramble, where they take guests on a tour of Rose Hill. The spring ramble this year will be at 2:30 p.m. April 21. But hardly a day goes by, Comer says, that a visitor does not wander through the cemetery, reading the stones and the history on a self-guided tour.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And that is exactly why Rose Hill is located where it is, Comer adds.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Our early city founders didn't want the dead to be banished from the town," he says. "The dead were part of the living."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In 1839, the 16-year-old city of Macon was looking for a larger cemetery to replace an isolated spot across the river near Fort Hawkins and a nearly full city cemetery set aside in 1823. The city picked a site in the College Hill residential neighborhood near the downtown area and chose plans prepared by Simri Rose, a city councilman and newspaper editor.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Many people think the cemetery was named after the rose flower," Comer says. "It wasn't. It was named for Simri."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A devoted gardener and amateur landscape designer, Rose created Rose Hill with the idea that it was to serve as both public park and cemetery. His goal was to create harmony within the beautiful natural setting.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The result is irregular meandering paths on terraced hillsides that slope to the banks of the Ocmulgee River. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GHfArZmI/AAAAAAAAAN0/QXI3LzNHP6Y/s1600/Finch+02+Blount+Angel+%2526+River+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GHfArZmI/AAAAAAAAAN0/QXI3LzNHP6Y/s320/Finch+02+Blount+Angel+%2526+River+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The Blount Angel, ca. 1905, near the Ocmulgee River</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Rose supervised the planting of rare and exotic specimens to complement native species. His legacy lives today in the bald cypress, balm of Gilead, hemlock, arbor vittae, columnar juniper, wild olive, broom furze and thorn that grow alongside poplar, oak, beech and sycamore.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In an era when public parks were rarely provided, the citizens of Macon took full advantage of Rose Hill's attractions. "It was a gathering spot for the community on Sundays," Comer says. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"They even had bands playing in a natural amphitheater, particularly around memorial holidays."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Leisurely afternoon carriage rides, picnicking and strolling were popular activities. Today, Rose Hill continues to provide many of the same functions even though early morning joggers have replaced horse-drawn carriages.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Picnicking in a cemetery is not at all contradictory to a Southerner, Comer says. "There is a southern custom of having meals with the dead," he says. "You'd clean up the cemetery plot, then sit down and eat a picnic lunch with the deceased family members."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Having grown up in Macon, Comer says such customs were second nature. It wasn't until he moved away and lived for a while in Kansas and Michigan that he saw not everyone was raised the same way.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Once an out-of-town friend was visiting and the two grabbed a quick drive-through lunch. Instead of eating in the car, Comer headed for the cemetery where his parents were buried.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"I sat on the stone and ate a hamburger," he recalls. But he also noted that his non-Macon friend was somewhat taken aback.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Folks who visit the cemetery do have to be careful of some unwanted guests that took residence in the early 1900s. Fire ants have built hills all over the scenic graveyard. Ranging from a tiny bump to a big tire-sized mound, the anthills are chock-full of biting insects. Disturb their homes, Comer says, and the fire ants will come swarming and, at some given signal, they simultaneously bite any exposed part of the disturber they can find to inflict their painful sting.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The cemetery is the final resting place of the humble and the exalted. Soldiers, governors, mayors, rock stars, railroad men, legislators, slaves, authors, children and even pets add their stories to the historic tapestry of Macon. Nearby, magnificent homes and humble slave quarters stand together in silent witness to the lives of Rose Hill's residents.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Rose Hill is filled with memorial art. Hand-carved Italian marble angels and monuments represent the finest workmanship. Two cast iron monuments and the natural mausoleum on the side of the ravine are unusual. Architectural motifs such as urns, columns, shells, laurel wreaths, resurrection ferns, and palm branches provide symbolism.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GMHZZ_dI/AAAAAAAAAN4/weVLaxuUARg/s1600/Finch+03+Rose+Hill+Cast+Iron+Monuments.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GMHZZ_dI/AAAAAAAAAN4/weVLaxuUARg/s320/Finch+03+Rose+Hill+Cast+Iron+Monuments.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Cast iron monuments in Rose Hill Cemetery</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"If you see a full obelisk with a pointed top, it means the deceased lived a long life, he completed his life," Comer says. "If the obelisk is broken off or draped, it means he was cut down in the prime of life."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The monument for John B. R. Juhan (1867-1875) memorializes the 8-year-old who wanted to be a firefighter when he grew up. His stone is carved with a fireman's cap, jacket and belt with the insignia of Defiance Company No. 5. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GUCysERI/AAAAAAAAAN8/P7dxCxl8TtU/s1600/Finch+04+Rose+Hill+Little+Fireman+Monument+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GUCysERI/AAAAAAAAAN8/P7dxCxl8TtU/s320/Finch+04+Rose+Hill+Little+Fireman+Monument+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">John B. Ross Juhan wanted to be a firefighter</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Another spot provides peace for mass murder victims. On October 29, 1890, Thomas A. Woolfolk, a member of a prominent local family, was hung for the ax murders of his father, stepmother and seven members of his family.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Unmarked graves contain the remains of the nine victims. Woolfolk is buried in Hawkinsville, Ga. In later years, some doubt was cast on his guilt by a statement of a part-time employee who was being lynched in South Carolina. He indicated that he had committed the crime.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Another simple stone bears the inscription "Lt. Bobby. Just a Brown Dog." A loyal pal and pet of Capt. D.C. Harris, the dog was the mascot of Company C, 121 Infantry. Lt. Bobby actually was commissioned a lieutenant for faithful attendance in training classes at Fort Benning. "Faithful to the last," the stone says.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GcZegS2I/AAAAAAAAAOA/kjjf5b_sK8c/s1600/Finch+05+Rose+Hill+Lt.+Bobby+Military+Dog+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GcZegS2I/AAAAAAAAAOA/kjjf5b_sK8c/s320/Finch+05+Rose+Hill+Lt.+Bobby+Military+Dog+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Lt. Bobby, "Faithful to the last."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The dog was buried with full military honors on Feb. 1, 1936. What the stone doesn't tell, Comer says, was how the dog died.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Accompanying his master almost everywhere, the dog was accustomed to riding in an elevator at a local hotel where a friend was staying. Getting along in years, the dog still delighted in racing ahead of his owner and jumping inside the open elevator doors to wag his tail and wait for Harris.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"But on this day," Comer says, "the elevator doors opened and the elevator wasn't there. The dog leapt into the abyss."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Down over a hillside lie two graves that attract a great deal of attention, some of it unwanted. "I don't think there is a visit that I haven't been in this cemetery for any length of time that someone doesn't come up and ask me if I know where Duane Allman is buried," Comer says. "It's amazing the cult following the <a href="http://www.gabba.org/">Allman Brothers</a> have."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">As struggling musicians, the early Allman Brothers Band lived up College Street from Rose Hill. To escape their quarters that were not air-conditioned, the band often would walk down to Rose Hill to think, party and work. They credited the contemplative place for inspiring several of their early songs -- as well as photographs for album covers.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Duane Allman died Oct. 29, 1971, when he lost control of his motorcycle on a Macon Street. One year later, on Nov. 11, band member and bass player Berry Oakley was killed in a motorcycle accident a block from where Allman lost his life.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Both men are buried side by side in Rose Hill. The graves have been targets of vandalism and rumored goings-on for decades. "Small angel statues placed at the foot of each of the graves were stolen a long time ago," Comer says.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GkHVDgXI/AAAAAAAAAOE/1Wi9olfxhFg/s1600/Finch+06+Rose+Hill+Allman+Brothers+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9GkHVDgXI/AAAAAAAAAOE/1Wi9olfxhFg/s320/Finch+06+Rose+Hill+Allman+Brothers+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Allman Brothers Band members Duane Allman and Berry Oakley, ca. 2010, angels restored</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Comer shared no more details. But the rest of the intriguing story can be found within the historical archives of the Washington Memorial Library -- an invaluable haunt for visiting genealogists. News accounts record that Oakley's sister had erected a razor-wire-topped, 8-foot chain link fence around the burial plots to keep people from defiling the graves. To discourage such behavior, she would sometimes hide in the nearby bushes and rush out to shoo away startled music pilgrims. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Fans left peace symbols and lipstick kisses on the markers, chipped off letters from the stones and carved their names and initials into them, the sister said. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Discarded condoms, beer cans and marijuana cigarettes have been left on the graves, she said in news reports. And someone even tried to dig a tunnel to steal one of the bodies.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But the Macon mayor ordered city workers to remove the fence in 1998, saying the dangerous barrier was not fitting for such an historic and public place. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The mayor also suggested the bodies should be moved to a private cemetery if the families object to gatherings there.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The grave of a fella who came and went long before the Allman Brothers watches from a nearby spot. Would he be bothered by all the hullabaloo? Probably not, judging from his simple epitaph:</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"1838-1916. Been here and gone. Had a good time."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9Gs4_XMuI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ToT7Zql37L4/s1600/Finch+07+Rose+Hill++Dr.+Subers+Oak+Ridge+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TT9Gs4_XMuI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ToT7Zql37L4/s320/Finch+07+Rose+Hill++Dr.+Subers+Oak+Ridge+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Dr. J. J. Suber in Oakridge section of Rose Hill</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
See another of Phil's Rose Hill Rambles <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/01/history-lives-at-rose-hill-by-dan-maley.html">(go)</a><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© 2002 by Jackie Finch, reposted by permission. Originally published in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hoosier Times</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Herald-Times</i>, Bloomington Indiana, Sunday, January 20, 2002. Jackie Sheckler Finch is a travel writer and lifestyle magazine editor from Indiana. Photo of Martha Ellis memorial by Jackie Finch. Other photos by Phil Comer. Unless stated otherwise, links not back to this site are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-60633443668464924172011-01-19T23:00:00.003-05:002011-02-15T08:58:01.509-05:00STAINS by Jessica Lynne Garrett<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is my first guest post on "All Write By Me." This short piece STAINS was written by my friend Jessica Lynne Garrett. She is an amazing photographer, performer and writer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TTexPh9SOeI/AAAAAAAAANo/Pw2zNiV4rF8/s1600/Simon+Czaplinski+by+RudK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TTexPh9SOeI/AAAAAAAAANo/Pw2zNiV4rF8/s320/Simon+Czaplinski+by+RudK.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It happened while I was making Jake grilled cheese sandwiches. He was sitting there on the couch with his feet propped up watching CNN, his blue work shirt stained with diesel fuel and sweat. All I see are those stains, they’re a bitch to get out. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Hey Babe, damn it was a long day today, I bet I must have worked on ten trucks myself," Jake grumbles.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He goes to work every day and works on transfer trucks for twelve hours. I wash grease and diesel stained clothes, make our bed with blue striped sheets, bake peanut butter cookies, balance the checkbook, and scrub the toilet, among other things. The list goes on and on.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Angel Eyes, will you make me a grilled cheese sandwich?" he asks as he plops down on the couch to take off his work boots.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He calls me "Angel Eyes" when he wants me to make him a sandwich, give him a back rub, make a beer run for him, or a million other things. I fall for it every time. I can’t say no when he calls me "Angel Eyes," it makes me feel special and wanted in my simple little world.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Sure, Baby. Do you just want grilled cheese? You want me to make you some grits or something else to go with it?"</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Nah, just make me three grilled cheese sandwiches."</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I walk into our small kitchen with the faded yellow rose wallpaper. I get the cheese and butter out of the refrigerator. I notice he only has one beer left. That means a beer run for me later. I put four slices of bread in the skillet. It hisses as they hit the hot butter.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What the hell is this?" Jake yells.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He’s holding up one of my sketches. I must have left it on the coffee table. I like to sketch when I have free time. Today I sketched the goddess Aphrodite from a picture in a library card. Jake doesn’t know I have a library card.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'MS UI Gothic','sans-serif'; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: 'MS UI Gothic';"> </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, it’s nothing, just something I did earlier today," I yell back.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Don’t you have anything better to do while I’m at work?"</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stand there looking at those cheese sandwiches in the skillet. The butter makes the cheese bubble around the edges. I use a spatula to move the sandwiches from the skillet to a plate. I walk to the living room and place the sandwiches on the coffee table in front of him.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Aren’t you forgetting something?" he asks.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What am I forgetting?"</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He glances at the empty coaster sitting by the plate on the coffee table.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"You want a beer?" I ask.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Don’t I every day? What is wrong with you, Molly? Drawing some uppity shit and forgetting my beer, you need to get it together."</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Something inside me overflows, it feels like when I put too much Dr. Pepper in a glass and it foams up and runs down the sides of the glass onto my yellow counter top. I walk into the kitchen and stand there, holding the counter top.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Hurry up with my beer! My sandwiches are getting cold."</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I walk from the kitchen and go into our bedroom. I find my old red suitcase. I open the closet and start to remove my things. I don’t have that many, a few old pairs of jeans, a few shirts from the Goodwill, two pairs of shoes, and way in the back of the closet - a sketch book and a set of charcoal pencils.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What the hell are you doing? I don’t know what’s gotten into you!" he yells as he flings the door open.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Don’t even think about touching me," I say softly. "I’ve had enough."</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jake laughs and starts moving toward me.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I see Jake’s aluminum baseball bat propped inside the closet door. I grab it, and swing with as much force as I can. The bat makes a hollow twanging sound as it strikes his head. He falls to the blue carpeted floor. Blood runs out both of his ears and his nose.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The blood makes new stains on his shirt, more stains, deeper stains, so many stains it seems I will never get out.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /> </span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">THE END</span></span></div><br />
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Click the title or here for a cool video, "It Gets Better" <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTQNwMxqM3E&feature=player_embedded">(go)</a> </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2011 by Jessica Lynn Garrett. Photo by RudyK model Simon Czapnkski . Images and links are not those of this blogger or blog. </span></span></span><br />
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</div></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-52032016664590753762011-01-01T12:18:00.007-05:002011-10-24T12:38:33.293-04:00HISTORY LIVES AT ROSE HILL by Dan Maley<h4 class="date"><em>The Telegraph</em>, Monday, Oct. 26, 2009 </h4><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TR9gbWEeOPI/AAAAAAAAALI/DrAmNZeQLv0/s1600/01Rose+Hill+Main+Gate+2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TR9gbWEeOPI/AAAAAAAAALI/DrAmNZeQLv0/s320/01Rose+Hill+Main+Gate+2009.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><h1 id="story_headline"><span style="font-size: large;">History lives at Rose Hill Cemetery thanks to semiannual tours</span><a href="http://www.macon.com/2009/10/26/892617/history-lives-at-rose-hill-cemetery.html" name="story" storyid="892617"></a></h1><h2 id="story_subheadline"></h2><div id="story_bycredit"><span class="byline">By Dan Maley</span> - <span class="creditline"><a href="mailto:dmaley@macon.com">dmaley@macon.com</a></span> </div><br />
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(Macon, Ga) There’s a lot more to Rose Hill Cemetery than meets the eye.<br />
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Those rough stone blocks in that retaining wall came from the collapsed ruins of one of the towers at Fort Hawkins, the first white settlement in this part of Georgia. <br />
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<div id="story_text_remaining">That flagpole towering over a hillside of Confederate graves came from Cochran Field, where Royal Air Force pilots trained during World War II.<br />
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That patch of grass may cover the remains of an early Maconite — after all, only one third of the graves in Rose Hill are marked.<br />
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With its skyline of monuments, terraced plots and variety of trees, Rose Hill offers a pleasant walk at any time of year. But to really appreciate the history of the place, you’ve got to take a ramble.<br />
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In 1977 the late Calder Payne, working with the Middle Georgia Historical Society, began giving twice-yearly cemetery walking tours called Rose Hill Rambles. The tradition continues under the auspices of the seven-year-old Historic Rose Hill Cemetery Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to preserving the 169-year-old city property. <br />
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Sunday, about 200 people turned out for the most recent ramble. The man with the megaphone and the facts was <strong>Phil Comer</strong>, a writer, historian and toxicologist. Comer has been giving tours of the cemetery since the ’80s. <br />
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At the plot for one of the many Napier families represented in Rose Hill, Comer related an anecdote he heard from Buford Birdsey, an avid cemetery supporter who died recently.<br />
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“This man was a lawyer and one time he was in a courtroom in south Georgia and the judge asked, ‘How do you pronounce your name?’ And he said, ‘Well, the hoity-toity members of the family pronounce it the French way, Nah-peYAY. Some of the no-account members of the family pronounce it Napper. But I pronounce it NAY-peeyer.’ Then the judge said, ‘Well, Mr. NAY-peeyer, I’d like you to know I married a Napper.’’’<br />
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In researching the stories of the people buried at Rose Hill, Comer has traveled to Atlanta, Savannah and Milledgeville to find information unavailable in Macon. When he began his research he made it a point to interview older Maconites to get first-hand accounts of the people whose names appear on the tombstones.<br />
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Comer said he was a relatively late convert to the cult of local history.<br />
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“I grew up in Macon with the attitude of ‘Let’s get the heck out of here, there’s nothing here,’’’ he said. “I went to the Midwest and the people there are wonderful, but they don’t have that sense of place. ... As soon as I came back to Macon I said, ‘Wow, there is just an energy here, a connection to the past, and these stories need to be told.’’’<br />
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The stories include those of Anna Jordan, beloved nanny of the well-to-do Smith family and one of the few blacks buried in Rose Hill; James H. Blount, a former congressman whom President Grover Cleveland sent to investigate the overthrow of Queen Lili’uokalani of Hawaii; and Lieutenant Bobby, a canine military mascot who fell down an elevator shaft at the Dempsey Hotel.<br />
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Comer said the most visited graves in Rose Hill are those of Allman Brothers Band members Duane Allman and Berry Oakley. The graves are now enclosed by a fence to prevent vandalism.<br />
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“You can’t really spend any time in the cemetery at all without somebody stopping you and asking directions to the graves,” he told the crowd during the 90-minute tour.<br />
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As Comer walked toward the cemetery gate after the tour, a minivan pulled up next to him. <br />
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The driver had a question. <br />
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You guessed it.<br />
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Comer cheerfully pointed out the way. </div><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">See another of Phil's Rose Hill Rambles <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/01/group-shares-stories-from-cemetery-by.html">(go)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This article originally appeared in the Macon, Georgia <em>Telegraph</em>, October 26, 2009 and is not the property of this blog or the blog's author; click title above for link to original article. Photo of Rose Hill Cemetery main gate by Phil Comer. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Unless stated otherwise, links not back to this site are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-32163500649553564682010-12-22T15:31:00.005-05:002010-12-22T18:13:57.968-05:00THE DEVILFISH by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The modern world seldom stills except when the power grid fails. One such occasion was a Christmas Eve night, a blackout during a rare cold snap in Central Florida. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TRJgbrzFLTI/AAAAAAAAAK4/b7SE7uAAewo/s1600/scan0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TRJgbrzFLTI/AAAAAAAAAK4/b7SE7uAAewo/s320/scan0002.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landon Fuller</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Eventually, Landon's voice broke the silence; the lone flickering candle illuminated memories from long ago. Just shy of his one-hundredth birthday, Landon asserted that his earliest memory was harvesting winter wheat in Charleston, South Carolina. The men hauled the wheat by wagon to the mill. It took all day. They packed a lunch. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A small reticent man of sharp wit and keen mind, Landon steepled fingers before his face and leaned into the flame correcting himself: An earlier memory was a trip by steamship and train, summer vacation to the home of his mother's mother in Crystal River, New York. He and Henry, his twin, made friends with two older boys whose father was the Crystal River station master. The twins helped the boys chalk lines on a tennis court. Also that trip, Landon and Henry saw their first moving pictures in a nearby town. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon and Henry Fuller were born to Sally Landon Seward Fuller and Paul Hamilton Fuller in Charleston, South Carolina, on August 7, 1902. Landon survived his twin by a number of years.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"No," Landon leaned back, arguing with himself, "harvesting winter wheat had to be the earlier event. The black and white Charlie Barnwells were among the farmers that day." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon explained white Charlie Barnwell was a bachelor cousin of his father, and black Charlie Barnwell was cousin Charlie's manservant and lifelong companion. Both shared the same name. The two Charlies were from Beaufort, South Carolina. Neither man ever married, nor did cousin Charlie’s sister Martha; the three lived together much of their lives. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Cousin Charlie was a veteran of The War Between the States, and black Charlie saw battle at white Charlie's side. After The War, cousin Charlie bought for little or nothing several hundred acres of barren land near Albany, Georgia. This, the black and white Charlies planted in pecan seedlings. During the time it took for the grove to produce, the men cultivated cotton between the saplings. By the 1880's, the two Charlies experienced several years of high cotton and the pecan trees bore fruit. Cousin Charlie sold the grove and became wealthy from its proceeds. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Black and white Charlie returned to Beaufort and again lived with cousin Charlie's sister Martha. With profits from the Georgia land, white Charlie bought "Bay Point," a small island in the Port Royal Sound. The island had a single crude residence surrounded by scrub palmetto, live oak, and sea oats. It was no place to be in a storm surge.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon recalled a trip to Bay Point around 1914. The sister Martha was herself an outdoor-type who enjoyed these rustic excursions. The party started out under power, but the motor soon choked. That suited the two Charlies fine; they hoisted sail and completed the journey under wind. White Charlie Barnwell was a huge man of solid build as was black Charlie Barnwell. At the island the two Charlies carried Martha and the twins through the surf to the shore. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Mosquito netting was essential for sleeping. Martha slept on the porch, the twins made a pallet inside, and the two Charlies shared a bed, as was their custom. The next morning, in a single haul of the seine, black Charlie pulled more than enough catch for the day. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Memories of the two Charlies brought to mind the tangle Landon's father Paul Hamilton Fuller had with the devilfish. A number of boats were anchored off The Point in Beaufort in the Broad River. During a strong incoming tide, a good-sized unmanned bateau moved against it. The empty bost gained speed as it headed toward open water. Paul Hamilton and the others realized the only conceivable explanation was a devilfish. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon's father and his companions took to their craft and drew along side. Paul Hamilton jumped into the unmanned bateau to cut the anchor, but the added weight spooked the devilfish. It took a powerful dive. The boat dunked to the point of taking water, but suddenly the line snapped on its own accord. The boat popped like a cork straight out of the river and tossed Paul Hamilton overboard. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon explained that the devilfish is also known as a manta ray. Although devilfish can grow to be 12 to 15 feet across, small devilfish muck themselves in shallow brackish water. When disturbed, devilfish strike with venomous barbs along the tail. The poison inflicts permanent pain, and afflicted limbs are often lost to gangrene. Landon knew of one fisherman who stepped on a small devilfish in the shallows off The Point. The man tried hanging himself and eventually died a laudanum addict.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The twins had two great-aunts, both school teachers. Their names were Mary Stewart Hamilton, "Aunt Mamie," and Phoebe Seabrook. The sisters lived in the old Hamilton home, still known today as "The Oaks," an often photographed mansion on The Point in Beaufort. Aunt Mamie's room was in the cupola where she sat up on moonless nights to study the stars. After The War, Aunt Mamie opened a "free school" in Beaufort and taught any white children who cared to attend. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Sometime after Reconstruction, the sisters moved to Washington, D.C. and opened The Seabrook School, a successful school for girls. It sat across Lafayette Square from the White House. The twins spent the summer of 1912 with these aunts. They traveled from Lakeland, Florida, to Washington by train because, as Landon put it, "that was the only way to get there." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Each day that summer, Aunt Mamie took the boys to an educational venue: They observed sessions of Congress. From the visitor's gallery, the twins witnessed as the state of Arizona was admitted into the Union. They visited the National Zoo. The Bureau of Engraving. Mount Vernon -- Landon's assessment was that it was rather dilapidated and appeared past saving. Jefferson's Monticello. And the twins made numerous visits to the Smithsonian Institute. Several Sunday evenings Aunt Mamie and Aunt Phoebe took the boys to hear John Philip Sousa "The March King" lead rousing and patriotic performances on the Mall. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But, Landon said, at that time, what he and Henry found the summer's highlight was seeing Walter Johnson pitch for the Washington Senators. It was Walter Johnson's rookie season, fresh out of Kansas, his first year pitching with the American League. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon stated emphatically, "Walter Johnson was the best pitcher who ever lived." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Aunt Mamie and Aunt Phoebe attended Saint John's Episcopal Church, also across Lafayette Square from The White House. One Sunday at services President William Howard Taft sat down behind Aunt Mamie, Aunt Phoebe and the twins. The twins' great-aunts were shocked and unaccustomed to seeing President Taft at Saint John's, as he was a Congregationalist. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon remembered the President as being a large, jovial, and friendly man. At one point during the service, Landon nodded off and President Taft shook the back of his head. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Landon said he recalls the incident very well, like yesterday, but at the time he had no idea who the man was -- or that the man was President of the United States. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">About that time, the power sputtered. The Christmas tree lights twinkled on. We blew out the candle and went back to watching TV.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TRJgqkzQ-ZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/B10zAxvfCYk/s1600/Fred+Fuller+Duffer+Alfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TRJgqkzQ-ZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/B10zAxvfCYk/s320/Fred+Fuller+Duffer+Alfie.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frederick Landon Fuller</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
RIP: Landon Fuller (August 7, 1902 – June 13, 2002), father</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">RIP: Frederick Landon Fuller (May 30, 1936 – November 11, 1997), son</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photo of Landon Fuller by Olan Mills. Photo of Fred Fuller by Horace Holmes. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
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</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-29149968051143504772010-12-10T15:00:00.003-05:002011-02-16T11:14:20.102-05:00INTERVIEW WITH PHIL COMER by Alicia Caldwell<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Award-winning, Utah-based writer Alicia Caldwell interviewed Phil Comer for the Write-Brained Network's December, 2010 Spotlight.</span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> <a href="http://writebrainednetwork.ning.com/forum/topics/december-10-wb-spotlight-phil">(original here)</a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> The Write-Brained Network is a great online community of writers, should any be looking for an online home. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_cmEqiLI/AAAAAAAAAHU/9O5ohU0J8IY/s1600/01+Alicia+Caldwell+head+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_cmEqiLI/AAAAAAAAAHU/9O5ohU0J8IY/s320/01+Alicia+Caldwell+head+shot.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alicia Caldwell</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">December '10 WB Spotlight Interview by Alicia Caldwell:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">This month, say hello to Georgia writer </span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Phil Comer</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Meet Phil Comer, fellow WBer, blogger, and all around fantastic writer. Phil lives in rural Georgia with dogs, cats, chickens and spousal unit. He has led writing teams for corporations, trade associations and has in excess of one million words ghosted in worldwide corporate dossiers.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Early on, he was owner/operator of The Last Resort, a venerable folk, jazz and blues venue in Athens, Ga., characterized in the press as "a local bohemian nightspot catering to the avant-garde." A popular speaker, he writes scripts and leads cemetery and historical rambles. His hobbies include international home stays, an outlet affording power naps in 30+ countries on six continents.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_gj2tObI/AAAAAAAAAHY/hyPr_JHzPF4/s1600/02+Phil+Comer+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_gj2tObI/AAAAAAAAAHY/hyPr_JHzPF4/s320/02+Phil+Comer+003.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phil Comer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: When did you first discover you loved to write?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC:</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> Writing is hard. I don’t love to write; I write because I have to. Sounds schizophrenic, but I started creative writing to engage the voices in my head, to discipline their cacophony. It’s like taking dictation; I write what they say. I use a lot of dialogue---sometimes can’t type fast enough to keep up. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The end result is gratifying. But, writing is exhausting work. Writing is re-writing. Layering. Revisiting. Constant switching, left to right brain---the creative versus the analytical. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">When I was a kid, my mother had a manila pocket stuck to the wall. Every Friday I had to have a new little story or poem in it. I guess Mom invented blogging.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: You recently started a <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/">blog</a> (and one of your posts was given a <a href="http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog/Gnome+Attack+Roundup+San+Francisco+Book+Review+Hilarious+Gnome+Video+And+More.aspx">shout-out</a> on the <a href="http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog/" target="_blank">Guide to Literary Agents blog</a>. Wow!) Can you tell us about it and, besides your crazy rants, what kinds of things we can expect to see there? </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I don’t censor myself. I’m sure I’ll offend. I realized recently, that’s because I’ve never had kids. Parents learn early to put on the kibosh. Consequently, I’m sometimes shocking unintentionally, but never mean-spirited. I’m not obscene. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I launched the blog on Nov. 1, 2010. The shout-out in </span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Guide To Literary Agents</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> came on Nov. 8. Talk about instant feedback and gratification! </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><a href="http://rickischultz.com/" target="_blank"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ricki [Schultz]</span></a> blogged about Chuck Sambuchino’s gnome book. He’s editor of </span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Guide to Literary Agents</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">. He used a bunch of gnome puns in his book. I started thinking in “Gnome”---gnomenclature as he and Ricki call it---and this silly gnome rap popped out. Chuck read it, liked it, and he blogged about it. Yea! </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">One of the first things I blogged was <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/11/stalker-poem-my-darling-by-phil-comer.html" target="_blank"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">my Stalker Poem ["My Darling"]</span></a>; it’s something I perform at open mics. It’s meant to be fun. A number of people commented how it channels insanity. Anyhow, the blog’s had several hits from a Danish psychiatry site. Not sure the connection. When I click back on their link, it’s in Danish. Can’t read a word. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">[</span><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Editor's note: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flGhOFcYyu0" target="_blank">Click here to see a YouTube video of Phil performing it!</a></span></i></b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">] </span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">BTW, the story behind Stalker Poem is, a friend was deliberating a restraining order against her former boyfriend. I started the poem to help her see his point of view. By the time I finished, I was like, “Nah. Get the restraining order.” But, that’s where art comes from.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Other writers have been incredibly helpful with the launch. I think that’s part of being a writer, sharing with and supporting others. WB’s <a href="http://www.jmlacey.com/" target="_blank">J.M. Lacey</a> sent a bunch of much appreciated “how to” stuff. A writer/blogger in California, whom I don’t know, sent a list of things I needed to do to make the blog look and work better. So generous, that he took the time and effort. I did them all, except stuff involving HTML. Maybe next time a 14-year-old comes over, we’ll tackle that. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> <b>AC: It looks like you have dabbled in different kinds of writing, ranging from scientific to short fiction. What else have you dipped your toes into and which type is your favorite?</b></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">My favorites are little slice of life stories. Reality morphed into fiction, such as the “Heart of Jawja” series on my blog. Those are all vignettes that happened, just bent and twisted into fiction. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Scientific and technical writing has been the bread-and-butter. In my own way, I’ve tried to force as much creativity as possible into that. There are so many layers of review, the politics of white papers and such, I sometimes throw in quirky points to see if anyone else on the team is paying attention. But good ideas come out of that sort of mischief. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I love brainstorming. The trick to brainstorming is not to be critical. Just let it flow and capture those ideas. The hard part comes later, the winnowing down, squeezing the toothpaste out the tube with the cap on.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">My favorite part of being a writer is conferences. Learning, networking with others. I think writers should go to all the conferences they can afford. Every one I’ve ever attended, I’ve met someone crucial to my development as a writer, like WB’s leader Ricki Schultz at <a href="http://www.southeasternwriters.com/" target="_blank">Southeastern Writers Association</a>. Did I mention, SWA is in summer, and Ricki has a fabulous collection of sandals? Some change outfits several times a day; Ricki changes shoes.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: What are you currently working on?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">My blog. Sorting through old stuff, shorter pieces that people might enjoy. I intended “All Write By Me” to be pure content with a minimalist design, little to distract from the writing. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">My WIP is the second of my trilogy. Actually, I started all three parts at the same time.<i> Ruby Cheeks</i> was the first to finish itself. Next, I intend to complete<i> Sapelo Queen</i>; it takes place on a remote island off the Georgia coast, a comic ghost story. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I have another couple of novels that just didn’t work. Maybe revisit later. But I’d rather deal with new ideas than old.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></i><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: I heard you just started querying for the first book of the trilogy,<i> Ruby Cheeks.</i> How’s that going?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">By querying, I’ve been doing research on agents. I’ve sent out six queries for<i> Ruby Cheeks </i>and got two prompt rejections. Then I got distracted by my October cemetery projects. I lead Rambles and do Spirit performances. So far, November has been blogging. Need to get back to serious querying. And writing.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I queried another novel a couple of years back, one that I love. Had requests for several partials and one full. The comment on the full was, “Good company, but don’t know what to do with it.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I decided the manuscript needed a serious rewrite, so I shelved it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Maybe I write sucky queries. One agent responded with a personal note, “Intriguing, but I didn’t fall in love with it.” It was a freaking query letter! How do you fall in love with a single sheet of bond? </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: Can you tell us more about your trilogy?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I call it the<i> SportsModel trilogy.</i> The connecting character is Sport Model. He narrates two of the three, but not the<i> Ruby Cheeks</i> installment. In present time, Sport and Ruby are eccentric elders. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Older characters have experienced time travel. I love history, so their pasts become an excuse to flash back through mid-20<sup>th</sup> Century America. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Sport is a gay guy, Ruby very straight. Their mutual friend is flamboyant Sheldon Smoot, a spy during WWII and in occupied Japan. Subsequently, Sheldon spent the remainder of his life dressing in getas (for Ricki, those are wooden Japanese sandals) and kimono drag. He’s a hoot. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">But there’s Mad Men seriousness there. It’s based on the historical fact that many Second World War and Cold War spies were gay. Due to their hidden subculture, gays and lesbians were accustomed to operating in secret in plain sight. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Sport’s bombshell in the first installment is, he had a gay lover no one would ever suspect, a major closeted figure in 20<sup>th</sup> century America. All plausible historically, and providing unique insights into a transcendent historical event. Because gays were so invisible, they sometimes were in positions to create havoc. Need I mention FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, Sen. Joe McCarthy and his industrious minion, Roy Cohn? Sport’s paramour was bigger than any of those. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">In the second installment,<i> Sapelo Queen,</i> Sport, a recovering alcoholic, resumes drinking after a traumatic event. In the delirium of sobering up, he inadvertently summons the ghost of Tallulah Bankhead. This all takes place on Sapelo Island off the Georgia coast. The Geechee/Gullah culture in the Lowcountry and Sea Islands is imbued with “spirits and shades,” so Sport’s summoning Tallulah becomes a contrast between old and new cultural beliefs. Tallulah is fun to write, and I hope a good read.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">In<i> Ruby Cheeks,</i> the third of the trilogy but the first completed, Ruby abandons her son, the narrator, in childhood only to reappear forty years later as if nothing happened. His relentless quest to sort things out unleashes “Southern-fried calamity,” as they say. Of course, Sport Model, Sheldon Smoot and the pastel, old-moneyed “Easter Egg Ladies” are part of the action. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: What do you do when you’re not writing, blogging, or on the WB?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC:</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> I love reading but find writing cuts into reading time. How do other writers handle that? </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I enjoy teaching, guest lecturing at local colleges, playing step-on tour guide for out-of-town coaches. I wrote the tour script for Macon, Ga. It’s used by local tour guides and Macon’s Cherry Blossom Festival. Macon has more cherry trees than anywhere else in the world. Festival is the third week in March. Hundreds of thousands show up to gawk. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Writing is an isolating life. So I enjoy spending time with friends and family. Movies, plays---the suspension of disbelief. I love observing people, eavesdropping. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I’m the luckiest guy, and have the most wonderful husband in the world, Rob. He usually comes out as “Duck” in my stories. He’s a kayak fanatic, “Duck in Water.” Georgia’s got good rivers and swamps.</span><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: Who inspires you (besides the fabulous Ricki)? </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_mDFVFlI/AAAAAAAAAHc/T2PfWarGGno/s1600/03+Ricki+Shultz+WB.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_mDFVFlI/AAAAAAAAAHc/T2PfWarGGno/s320/03+Ricki+Shultz+WB.bmp" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ricki Schultz</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC: </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Ricki, of course! I am in total awe and admiration of what she is accomplishing. Her dedication to fellow writers, wow. Kudos, kudos, kudos. But, isn’t a kudo some sort of critter on the Serengeti? </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">[<b>Editor's note: OMG, you guys are too too sweet!!!</b>]</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Of dead inspirations, Flannery O’Connor. Her fiction, her essays on writing, her reflections on life. A pious Catholic, she delved into that fine intersection between devotional belief and absurdity. She’s a kindred spirit on life’s Ouija board. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">When I moved to Chicago, someone said, “What I love about Flannery is her imagination.” That came as a shock. My response was, “I just figured she knew my family.” </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I was fortunate to be born into a rural but lush corner of the South. Within 30 miles of my front porch rocker came the likes of Flannery O’Conner; Alice Walker; Joel Chandler Harris (<i>Uncle Remus</i>); John Oliver Killins (Harlem Renaissance writer); 19<sup>th</sup> century poet Sidney Lanier; singers Trisha Yearwood, Little Richard, Otis Redding, Lena Horne, the Allman Brothers Band, two-thirds of R.E.M. and a whole slew coming along, country singer Jason Aldean. A phrase often heard these parts is, “There’s something in the water.” </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Personal muses? At least four: Peepers, Cappy, Betty and the recently departed Nelle. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_rH5DDNI/AAAAAAAAAHg/cTgSsQP3z-8/s1600/04+Peepers+on+Editing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="229" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_rH5DDNI/AAAAAAAAAHg/cTgSsQP3z-8/s320/04+Peepers+on+Editing.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peepers on Editing</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Peepers is our porch dove. She stays close while I’m writing. Either on my shoulder, or a crook in the lamp. She watches letters appear on the screen, like endless seeds. When the screen saver comes on, she jumps on the keyboard or pecks the mouse, as if saying, “Get back to work.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><a href="http://www.simplysoutherncappy.com/" target="_blank">Cappy Hall Rearick</a> is a humorist, columnist, editor and former president of Southeastern Writers Association. I took her week-long humor class several years back; she’s now a soul mate. She taught me ins and outs of “writing funny.” She released my inner snark. When I’m in a bind, I ask myself, “What would Cappy say?” She edited my entire novel. What a friend. What a doll. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_uIjmz_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/XEFCml3-Pq0/s1600/05+Cappy+Rearick+glamor+shot.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_uIjmz_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/XEFCml3-Pq0/s320/05+Cappy+Rearick+glamor+shot.bmp" width="146" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cappy Hall Rearick</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Betty Wells Anderson is a great unpublished mystery novelist in Gay, Georgia. Yes, that’s the name of the place. She knows novel structure inside and out. She sliced and diced <i>Ruby Cheeks</i> and guided my putting it back together, several times. She never holds back on what does and doesn’t work. Good critiquers and beta readers are priceless treasures. We need those outside eyes.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The late Nelle McFather was a great inspiration and encouragement, another past president of Southeastern Writers. She published more than a dozen, for lack of a better genre, “Near Romance” novels. Not long before she died, she called: “Phil, need your help. I’ve completely run out of euphemisms for penis.” We brainstormed, talked it out. Then she up and died. (People in the South don’t just “die.” They “up and die.”) </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">AC: On your blog, you mentioned you’ve won some contests. What kinds of contests and what kinds of prizes?</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">PC:</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> I’ve been a technical writer to date. Creative writing was my secret. I’m coming out of the closet. I’m honored to have my creative writing recognized. This year I got two seconds at <a href="http://www.sandhills.aug.edu/index.html" target="_blank">Sandhills</a>, a prestigious, decades-old conference in Georgia at Augusta State University. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I’ve only received two firsts, from<span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Southeastern Writers Association</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="color: black;"> </span><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Lovey%20Dials%20the%20Dead">(go here)</a> and<span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Sandhills Writers Conference</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(go here)</a>. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Aim for Number One. And whatever you hit, call that your target.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_wnrLXwI/AAAAAAAAAHo/WamO3ER-CrI/s1600/06+Megan+O%2527Neill+photos+Frank+Yates_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TQJ_wnrLXwI/AAAAAAAAAHo/WamO3ER-CrI/s320/06+Megan+O%2527Neill+photos+Frank+Yates_edited.jpg" width="235" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shoot for the Moon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Alicia Caldwell interview with Phil Comer <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/12/interview-with-phil-comer-by-alicia.html">(back to top)</a><br />
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Candice Dyer interview with Phil Comer <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/02/phil-comer-interview-by-candice-dyer.html">(go)</a><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Interview reposted by permission. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Photos provided by the subjects. Photo of "Peepers" by Phil Comer. "Shoot for the Moon" photo by Megan O'Neill, used by permission. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Irvi Lider's Hebrew fight club video linked to the title. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this website are not property of the author.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-79348976047229757922010-12-07T15:20:00.002-05:002010-12-07T16:03:01.987-05:00EVANGELICALS URGED TO STALK GAYS IN SMALL-TOWN AMERICA by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 4. THE EXORCISM</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">[Start with Part 1 <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a> Or click the title above to hear Talley sing.] </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TP6VgaBIrJI/AAAAAAAAAHM/DdchJi7emY0/s1600/Kirk+Talley+GQ+August+2005+profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TP6VgaBIrJI/AAAAAAAAAHM/DdchJi7emY0/s320/Kirk+Talley+GQ+August+2005+profile.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Ex-Gay Kirk Talley Sings To His Helmet</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">SQUEALING LIKE PIGS</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The Evangelicals' music is good. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>All that hands-up-in-the-air business looks too much like waving bye-bye to Jesus.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Pert, creased, manicured and coifed gospel singer Kirk Talley said he practices while wearing a motorcycle helmet, "Try it. It beats singing in the shower!" </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Talley also described in graphic detail the exorcism that presumably delivered him from homosexuality. The exorcism was orchestrated by Rev. Roy Blankenship of Exodus International. Rev. Blankenship, a dead ringer for Karl Rove, was another of the presenters. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>I'm skipping this part. If the Village People included "Gospel Singer," that Talley guy would have been "Miss It"!</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Misses Indian, Cop, Biker and Construction Worker were quite sufficient.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Need a beer? I'm outta here.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Quickly while he's away: Crucifixes (not the Christ-less Protestant kind). Bibles. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ice water. </i>Non-erotic writhing. Shouting. Tongues. Exhortations. Gnashing teeth. Rending cloth. Meanwhile, members of the opposite sex gather within earshot for prayer and supportive wailing. Upon deliverance of a sign -- perhaps calling "Uncle"? -- the recipient receives a change of orientation. The ladies then serve red velvet cake and the sweet iced tea of thanksgiving. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Back. Can't make that stuff up! That part was SO creepy. What needed changing after all that was the guy's underwear. The crowd ate it up!</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Interesting, "ex-gay" ministries preserve quaint anachronisms like exorcism yet eschew sacred rites such as snake-handling. Frankly likely due to the latter being <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">too</i> gay. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Shaking your serpent or somebody else's could open any number of wormholes.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Because of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>, we'd never make it past the "ex-gays'" "overcoming gay sarcasm" step. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Nah, we love our husband too much.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">True. We are blessed. Life with Rob Duck is a joy. Evangelicals, by the way, don't refer to it as exorcism, but "deliverance." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Saw the movie. Can't get the sound of pigs squealing out of my head!</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You can't help yourself, can you? I feel the name of that step should be "overcoming gay irony" rather than "sarcasm." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>It's an ironical world.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">You know perfectly well "ironical" is not a word, though the kids are bandying it about as if it were about to become one. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In case you missed it, one of the more disturbing scenes from the movie <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Deliverance</i> is a homosexual rape in which the perpetrators repeatedly instruct the victim to "squeal like a pig." It was filmed just up the road. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Those toothless perps could be our neighbors.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fried Green Tomatoes</i> also was filmed nearby. It's about two women who ran the Whistlestop Cafe. The movie glossed over the fact that they were a lesbian couple.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>So read the book.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">SADDLE SORES </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Sometimes it takes years to uncover the roots of an individual's homosexuality. But that's alright. We're willing to wait." And did we mention there's no such thing as a happy, well-adjusted homosexual? </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>"Another horror story's coming up in a minute. You're gonna love this next one!"</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Listening as these "strugglers" confess their sad foibles, what they term their "testimony," I suspect many suffer from demons having little to do with sexual orientation.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Straights must be envious. They don't have a catchall for all life's problems.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A reality check: John Paulk founded Focus on the Family's "ex-gay" ministry "Love Won Out." He and his ex-wife "ex-gay" Ann Paulk made it to the cover of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Newsweek</i> in 1998 as new parents and paragons of "ex-gay"ness. Focus on the Family and the Board of Exodus International subsequently had to let John go for trolling gay bars. Gary Cooper (not that Gary Cooper) and Michael Bussee co-founded "ex-gay" ministry Exodus International in the 1970s. These "ex-gays" fell in love. With each other. They got "married" in an early gay wedding. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Remained a couple 'til death did they part.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">With all due respect, I'm not sure I'd relish having an "ex-gay" for a son- or daughter-in-law, or having a sister or brother marry one. The risk of recidivism, pain and broken families is too great. I apologize in advance for having said that to all those who struggle to be someone other than who they are.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>The Lord must be OK with Creation. Otherwise, changing something as simple as orientation might be easier.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The major conflict for the "ex-gay" wannabes appears not to be "unwanted same-sex attraction" so much as their faith. Why assail beliefs of others? Why not tweak their own to allow their God to love them as they are?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Then who'd buy all the stuff they're selling? This snapping wrist band could be kinky in the right company.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Put that away.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">DON'T DRINK AND SEX DRIVE</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I'd wager the difference between gay and "ex-gay" is often less than a six-pack of beer. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Beer happens.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Denial, there really is a homophonic river in Egypt. I've seen it. The surprise was the Pyramids are right on a busy city street. You must snap the photo from just that one angle to get the image we've been conditioned to expect. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>You could get run over trying to take the picture!</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Heavy hitters like NARTH, Focus on the Family and Exodus International promise change but don't reveal any sort of scorecard, no actual statistics. You'd think they'd tout their odds. But no, this modern day Medicine Show rumbles in, shills hope, moves on. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>I bet there are more ex-"ex-gays" than "ex-gays" in this world.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The LGBT community even has a term for ex-"ex-gays," those who've tried, failed, yet survived: "<u>dos equis</u>," same as the Mexican beer with "XX" on the label. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Cool people. Great stories. Can be high maintenance.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">They made an honest effort but seem relieved even in an unexpected destination. Many wings remain broken. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>On the bright side, the</u> dos equis <u>receives free interior decorating, and one of us gets a toaster.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That's such an old saw about gays recruiting that actual toasters get passed around. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>If I see one more red velvet toaster cake...</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Here in the South, we're forever aspiring to make red velvet cakes into something else: Armadillos, opossums, toaster ovens. People persist in slapping gray icing on what is actually a fabulous confection. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>No matter how it's frosted, it looks like roadkill when you slice into it.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Dare say that's part of Southerners' morbid fascination with the things.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">More NARTH research: 85% of all red food coloring sold in the South ends up in red velvet cake. I made that up. But I suspect that's how NARTH does it. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>A bunch goes in hummingbird feeders.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">SUBMISSION. IT'S WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Focus on the Family and Exodus International don't recommend stalking all same-sex practitioners equally, only those openly "living homosexually." It's the LGBT community they mean to bring into submission at the Foot of the Cross. They aren't particularly bothered by wives' husbands cruising parks, parsons diddling choirboys or hiring rent boys, or any Right Wing "I am not gay" U. S. Senators alleged to solicit in airport relief stations. Those aren't their concern. Closet cases don't demand equal treatment or recognition for families. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Look, I'm gonna throw the skunk on the table if you won't: "Strugglers" who straggle sometimes cash their chips in desperation. These "ex-gay" ministries leave a body count. They claim to be people of God, but their consequences can be evil.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The devil travels in many guises, my friend. My task here is not to judge, merely to provide sufficient rope for "ex-gay" ministries to hang themselves before others.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">One of their mantras is, "The ground is level at the Foot of the Cross." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>It's not really.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In Jerusalem we trudged every step of The Way. What surprise did we find at the rocky end? A nice kid we knew from back home in Macon, Georgia, who has two gay moms. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Coincidence? I don't think so. I got goose bumps from the touch of the Hand of the Lord.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Now who's the recovering Southern Baptist? Matt's since made them doting grands. But no, Calvary's ground was nowhere near level. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Glad I talked you out of renting one of those crosses to drag along.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The vendors' crosses all have little wheels mounted on the bottom. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We do commend this faction of the Religious Right for damping its rhetoric against our community. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Peace be with you. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Peace be with you.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The closet may be sordid and shameful, but that's precisely what Evangelicals propose "to unconditionally love" us back into.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>While splitting infinitives and a few hairs.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Even after that unfortunate Judas Iscariot incident, still in at least five places the New Testament teaches Christians to greet one another with a kiss (Romans 16:16; I Corinthians 16:20; II Corinthians 13:12; I Thessalonians 5:26; Acts 20:37). </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>So, if you run into that gay dude at Starbucks, tell him when an Evangelical comes at him with a great big bear hug, he ought to demand that kiss.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">End of Part 4 of 4.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Christianity-Social-Tolerance-Homosexuality-Fourteenth/dp/0226067114/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1291085496&sr=1-2"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TP6VkDJDj0I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/FC9OOPCv_QI/s320/John+Boswell+Christianity+Social+Tolerance+and+Homosexuality.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 1. THE JESUS PIECE <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 2. LESBIANS ARE HOT <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%202">(Go!)</a> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 3. MOJO OF HOMO NO MO' <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%203">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 4. THE EXORCISM Back to top <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%204">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer [This piece won first place in nonfiction at the Sandhills Writers Conference.]</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This "ex-gay" revival, "The Philadelphia Conference: Loving Homosexuals as Jesus Would," was held Saturday, September 30, 2006, Christ Chapel at SportsTowne, 170 Starcadia Circle, Macon, Georgia. All speakers were affiliated with "Focus on the Family" and/or "Exodus International." For more information on “Ex-Gay” ministries, see <a href="http://www.truthwinsout.org/">"Truth Wins Out"</a>. Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this website are not property of the author. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-84817518947855611512010-12-03T15:45:00.004-05:002010-12-09T09:23:23.298-05:00EVANGELICALS URGED TO STALK GAYS IN SMALL-TOWN AMERICA by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 3. THE MOJO OF HOMO NO MO'</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">[Start with Part 1 <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a>] </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPlU_3Z30AI/AAAAAAAAAHE/HJ6VFAnQu_E/s1600/Nicolosi_Joseph%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPlU_3Z30AI/AAAAAAAAAHE/HJ6VFAnQu_E/s320/Nicolosi_Joseph%255B1%255D.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">'Doctor Ex-Gay' Joe Nicolosi, NARTHoleptic</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
<u>You take it. Over my head.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Listeners were bombarded with pseudoscience mumbo jumbo about why people end up with same-sex attractions in the first place. They kept quoting a Dr. Joseph Nicolosi as "the world's leading authority on homosexuality" and his organization, NARTH, the National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality, as where to find the "science" that backs them up. One might imagine a better acronym for the alleged fount of all knowledge. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Yeah, NARTH conjures images of Death Star, Darth Vader and Dick Cheney.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I know junk science when I hear it. My fear is that vulnerable kids – and their parents – might not. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I did a search of all the journals indexed by the National Library of Medicine. As of November, 2010, a total of zero, zip, nada studies turned up in the mainstream peer-reviewed scientific literature for "Nicolosi AND homosexuality" or permutations of "NARTH." Only three studies and one review popped up under any combination of those terms. They were published in what most scientists would consider a vanity journal. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>What's that?</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A magazine that prints almost anything for a fee. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Since Kinsey, Pomeroy and Martin published <em>Sexual Behavior in the Human Male</em> in 1948, the National Library of Medicine has tracked 18,701 studies under its search term "homosexuality," 18,701 versus NARTH's max of four. I can't, however, vouch for each study. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>But the diagnosis is clear: A tragic case of NARTHolepsy.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In the sixty years since Dr. Alfred Kinsey posited that new patterns of sexual behavior rarely emerge after the mid-teens, the American Psychiatric Association (psychiatrists), the American Psychology Association (psychologists), the American Medical Association, and the American Academy of Pediatrics, among others, have taken the position that sexual reorientation therapies don't work. Some also say that "reparative therapies" and "transformational ministries" not only don't change orientation but are potentially dangerous. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">All of those criticisms are dismissed by NARTH, Focus on the Family and Exodus International because those otherwise reputable organizations have a) been infiltrated, or b) succumbed to the homosexual agenda.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">DON'T BLAME YOUR ANCESTORS</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>All NARTH "research" says the same thing: It's NOT genetic. It's NOT genetic. It's NOT genetic.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Every speaker made that assertion that many times. NARTH expends great energy debunking studies in actual medical journals and the peer-reviewed scientific literature.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">They offer a number of explanations for why people suffer from "unwanted same-sex attractions," none of which involve genetics. A major cause is supposedly childhood sexual abuse, the "abuse excuse." To their credit, I didn't hear any speaker specifically accuse homosexuals of being child molesters. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>That's a change.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Things they single out as being the "roots of homosexuality" are mundane, if unfortunate occurrences. Things that happens in every child's life.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Only in our case, it made us gay.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">For instance, that time your father got super mad at you when you were ten. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Pow! You're a poofter.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">All those times your dad never called you Princess.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Bam! You're a lesbian. But, it's NOT genetic. It's NOT genetic. It's NOT genetic. You can change!</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Or at least keep your knickers on. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>We call our cat Princess all the time. Her name's Lilly. She doesn't know that. Maybe we should have called her that more?</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We shan't guilt the Lilly. One potential cause of lesbianism was said to be "clumsy" teenage boys leading girls to experiment with more experienced girls who "know how the female body works." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Mike Haley said that. That must be NARTH research.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The only mention of transexuals was their high rate in the Philippines is due to the youngest son in the family being raised as a houseboy. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Mike Haley said that. I reckon more NARTH research.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"The greatest threat today is bisexual chic. Men think that's hot. It's amazing how much it's in our society." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Mike Haley said that.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Rather than protesting at Gay Pride, we should set up a booth to hand out water under a banner proclaiming, 'We want to apologize for the way the Christian Community has treated you in the past.'" </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Mike Haley said that. Not everything the dude said was totally gay.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Do you mean, "gay" as in gay, or "gay" as in stupid?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Whatever.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">END OF PART 3 OF 4.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Anything-but-Straight-Unmasking-Scandals/dp/1560234466/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1291085403&sr=1-1"><img border="0" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPlVHpI1cMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/PB1DlNCmLnM/s1600/Wayne+Besen+Anything+But+Straight.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Next: Part 4, "The Exorcism"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 1. THE JESUS PIECE <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 2. LESBIANS ARE HOT <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%202">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 3. MOJO OF HOMO NO MO' Back to top <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%203">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 4. THE EXORCISM <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%204">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer [This piece won first place in nonfiction at the Sandhills Writers Conference.]</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This "ex-gay" revival, "The Philadelphia Conference: Loving Homosexuals as Jesus Would," was held Saturday, September 30, 2006, Christ Chapel at SportsTowne, 170 Starcadia Circle, Macon, Georgia. All speakers were affiliated with "Focus on the Family" and/or "Exodus International." For more information on “Ex-Gay” ministries, see <a href="http://www.truthwinsout.org/">"Truth Wins Out."</a> Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this website are not property of the author. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-50340643250471309142010-11-30T15:35:00.004-05:002010-12-07T15:26:51.807-05:00EVANGELICALS URGED TO STALK GAYS IN SMALL-TOWN AMERICA by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 2. LESBIANS ARE HOT</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">[Start with Part 1 <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a>] </div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPVd7aWx7YI/AAAAAAAAAG8/o3SmC4rafV4/s1600/melissa.fryrear%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPVd7aWx7YI/AAAAAAAAAG8/o3SmC4rafV4/s320/melissa.fryrear%255B1%255D.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Ex-Gay Melissa Fryrear Travels with Protection</span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">FUN HOUSE MIRRORS</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>The presenters were slick. What a head job! Like, by the time Haley testified he'd been arrested for same-sex prostitution in Dallas, folks were clapping, rebel yelling, stomping feet. Never heard such. And in a church! Well, this place was more like a sports arena. Christ Chapel at SportsTowne, that's what they called it.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Yes, odd. Haley said he loves talking to "gay activists." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Focus on the Family's lead ex-lesbian, trim schoolmarm-ish Melissa Fryrear, prefers the term "gay militants" for those demanding equal treatment under the law. All those not militant, she lumps as "moderates," their target. A gay moderate, she said, was someone who "may have gone to a few Gay Pride parades." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>She didn't say how many.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">There were no protesters. That was unfortunate in that at several places in their scripts, they refer to "the gay activists protesting outside." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Yeah, we heard they'd be punching below the Bible Belt. Tried to get word out to stay home.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">We're just tickled pink that they know we're here even if we weren't there. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">By the afternoon session, Fryrear was so pleased with the friendly crowd and so comfortable in her sensible shoes, at the last minute she substituted her more hard hitting talk, "Why We Can't Stay Silent," for her previously announced, "Homosexuality and the Culture." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Apparently everything Melissa Fryrear and Mike Haley said was scripted by Focus on the Family's "policy wonks," which they both insisted they weren't. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Wonks, that is.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">They used the word lesbian but always put quotes around "gay." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>I see you're putting quotes around "ex-gay" here.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The word queer was never used. The only exception was an "ex-gay" website targeting gay and lesbian youth, "inqueery.com."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Cool. Wish that one was ours.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><a name='more'></a><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">ALWAYS CARRY PROTECTION</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Fryrear traveled with a bodyguard. She said that after your first death threat at Focus on the Family, you got a parking space closer to the building. Every Christmas for the last several years she's gotten what she calls her "poo card," a Christmas card smeared with feces. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Fryrear wore braces. Said she asked the orthodontist to give her a straight smile.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The most people assembled at one time was for Fryrear's talk on the "root" of lesbianism. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Evangelicals must find lesbians hot.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In his poetry, Walt Whitman often used "root" as a euphemism for penis.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">If you are living homosexually and think you're happy, you are delusional. I believe that was one of their book titles. They recommend reading, or at least buying, matter of all sorts. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>You gotta do something with all that time you're not being gay.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">KEEP THAT PISTOL IN YOUR POCKET</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The Road to Recovery is this: Celibate. Date. Wed-Mate. Procreate. Only you have to pronounce "celibate" so it rhymes with the rest. This is a long and arduous journey fraught with hurdles. All the "ex-gays" call this their "struggle"; they refer to themselves as "strugglers." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>They all want to make it to trail's end, or at least that next-to-the-last pit stop.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">All the "ex-gays" seemed to be trying way too hard. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>If they're "ex-gay," why do they keep setting off my gaydar?</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Great big bear hugs are the secret handshake of the "ex-gay" movement. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>But you are SO not supposed to know that.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Haley apparently was celibate for five years before his marriage. He said he remained virgin as a hetero until several days after that. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>This stuff ain't easy.</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He now has two progeny. You're expected to clap every time their picture flashes. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Yeah, they look like they could be his.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Ex-gay" Fryrear seems to have been celibate ever since she "walked away from lesbianism" a number of years ago. She's single and said straight sex is also out before marriage. She says she's looking for "a redheaded man." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Likely one who has a red Volvo with a honking pair of halogen headlights. Even if we all swore off sex, my guess is we'd still wanna chill. Maybe now hang in the Fellowship Hall?</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I doubt they'd want too many of us in there at one time. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>If we sit boy girl, boy girl? And swear no sleep-over lock-ins? I hear they're sewing pink and blue patches onto choir robes so we don't get confused over which to put on. For our foreheads, they got a bunch of "999" temporary tattoos. That way, we only get marked with the Sign of the Beast if caught swinging inappropriately from monkey bars. Many details are yet to be ironed out.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Overcoming your gay sarcasm is an actual step in their comprehensive program toward becoming an "ex-gay." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>"Sarcasm reflects their pain." What's that bullshit?</u> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Language, please. Becoming "ex-gay" is a humorless affair. All that talk about celibacy, what they call "walking away from homosexuality" for those of that orientation, makes me wax nostalgic for all those times throughout human history when voluntary sexual abstinence has proved such a rousing success. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><u>Sheep should be nervous.</u></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">END OF PART 2 OF 4.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/New-Testament-Homosexuality-Robin-Scroggs/dp/0800618548/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1291085344&sr=1-1"><img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPVgQwoJgXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/jb55nOF5BZw/s1600/Robin+Scroggs+New+Testament+and+Homosexuality.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Next Part 3, "Mojo of Homo No Mo'"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 1. THE JESUS PIECE <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 2. LESBIANS ARE HOT Back to top <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/11/evangelicals-urged-to-stalk-gays-in_30.html">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 3. MOJO OF HOMO NO MO' <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%203">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">PART 4. THE EXORCISM <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%204">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer [This piece won first place in nonfiction at the Sandhills Writers Conference.]</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This "ex-gay" revival, "The Philadelphia Conference: Loving Homosexuals as Jesus Would," was held Saturday, September 30, 2006, Christ Chapel at SportsTowne, 170 Starcadia Circle, Macon, Georgia. All speakers were affiliated with "Focus on the Family" and/or "Exodus International." For more information on "Ex-Gay" ministries, see <a href="http://www.truthwinsout.org/">"Truth Wins Out."</a> Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this website are not property of the author. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-26875826560331100112010-11-26T19:06:00.011-05:002010-12-07T15:29:40.808-05:00EVANGELICALS URGED TO STALK GAYS IN SMALL-TOWN AMERICA by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">PART 1. THE JESUS PIECE </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPBHmzcQM7I/AAAAAAAAAGo/QesjSF69ogk/s1600/Mike+Haley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPBHmzcQM7I/AAAAAAAAAGo/QesjSF69ogk/s320/Mike+Haley.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Ex-Gay Mike Haley - Clap For His Kids</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;">TOO GAY, OR NOT TOO GAY?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;">The Religious Right recently floated a novel take on homosexuality in my hometown.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Why'd you drag me along?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Somehow, I can't quit you. The daylong multimedia revival was billed to the largely white Evangelical audience as "a fresh Christian approach." All the speakers were affiliated with Dr. James Dobson's Colorado-based Focus on the Family and/or the Florida-based "ex-gay" ministry, Exodus International. Every presenter recommended that Evangelical Christians tone down their rhetoric toward the gay and lesbian community. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Yeah. What was that all about?</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I'm not sure. The political objectives of these religious groups remain unchanged: They oppose what they term "the redefinition of marriage"; they want adoptions banned for people "living homosexually" and all "public promotion of homosexuality" ceased. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>That was clear from their PowerPoints.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a name='more'></a><br />
Their message and tactics are evolving. While opposed to "living homosexually," they appear to normalize same-sex attractions. "Living homosexually" is their preferred term for us gays and lesbians comfortable in our skins. And this just in: They feel they should be nicer to us. They're sorry for those things they've said. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Well, some of them.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The fact these folks even acknowledge we exist in small-town America is notable. Focus on the Family and Exodus International want to reach out to gays and lesbians so they can make us disappear. Their final solution is "to unconditionally love" us out of existence. People who cease to exist quit demanding equal rights. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Split all the infinitives you want, but if you go this "ex-gay" route – what happens to me?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">You'll have to find your own place.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>But, I live in your head.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">They say you're only a figment of my crotch's imagination. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Am I that shallow?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">You're only a phase, a bed habit. I meant to say, <em>bad</em> habit.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Take it up with Freud. We've been together since we were what? Fourteen?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I assumed the womb. I was misinformed.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Where will I go?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">To life's sordid underbelly. We'll work something out.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;">SILENCE IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;"><u>Sit down. Shut up. Check weapons. Yikes!</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Participants were patted down at the doors. <br />
<br />
Repeated throughout the day was, "These lectures are not open to comment. Anyone who persists in asking questions will be removed." We were provided with 4-by-6 inch cards to submit written inquiries. Focus on the Family's Mike Haley explained, "People tend to ask the same question different ways, and we don't get very far." He added, "Questions are often from people who aren't friendly to our message."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>And they accuse us of trying to silence them?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Sounds like the sort of thing your fellow travelers might attempt. Focus on the Family's overheads do propose clear strategies to halt what they term "the promotion of homosexuality." </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>In other words, ways to silence us.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;">THE STARBUCKS CONNECTION</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;">Their latest position is that same-sex attractions are acceptable as long as no one acts on them. Their message to randy gays is the same as to horny straights: Abstinence until opposite-sex marriage. Only they assure the gay kids – and their parents – "It's OK to have same-sex attractions now. Through the power of prayer you will overcome them by the time you marry someone of the opposite sex." </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>What was that about residency programs?</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Those are centers strategically situated around the country, locations disclosed for significant up-front fees, where parents can drop off their gay kids for reprogramming.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Even if the kids don't want to go?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Yes, it's one of the few incidences you find Evangelicals co-opting Mormons. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Weekend workshops like the one we attended are only the beginning. Children can be recalcitrant. The "ex-gay" movement fears states will step in to regulate their facilities. They argue that such "religious ministries" must not be touched. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">For the rest of us, Evangelicals are encouraged to identify and isolate individuals "living homosexually" in their towns and love us right out of that condition. Attendees were assured that those "living homosexually" can be loved straight, or at least celibate. Participants were warned this endeavor could take years, but if pursued with godly fervor, eventually gays and lesbians will abandon beachheads in your community and retreat to San Francisco. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Focus on the Family labels this offensive the Whole Person Strategy. Their prototypical objective is "the gay guy working at Starbucks." Focus on the Family's fair-haired, blow-dried, gym-buffed "ex-gay" Haley describes this as a series of steps taken over time. Their approach appears to follow standard techniques for brainwashing and cult indoctrination. Theoretically, in many states targeting individuals might meet the definition of stalking. However, Evangelicals claim religious exemption from any such laws. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>The gay guy working at Starbucks. He's their target. I don't know him. If I did, I'd I'll warn him about Fundamentalist Christians bearing hugs and smiley face stickers.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Twentysomething, wiry, mop-headed "ex-gay" Chad Thompson whooped, "This generation of gays and lesbians is going to see revival like no generation ever has! We're taking revival to the gay and lesbian community! We can't sit back and wait for them to come to us!" </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Haley warned those embarking on such ministry, "Gay people tend to be intentionally offensive. It hurts to be hurt. They think, 'I believe you as a Christian will someday reject me. If I make you reject me, then I'm in control.'" </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The analogy used was that of missionaries preparing for mission work in foreign lands: Learn the language and study the culture before you go. They recommend against citing abominations from Leviticus or referring to "choice," "lifestyle," and "love the sinner, hate the sin." Potential recruits were cautioned that these tend to spook skittish prey. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">They've masterminded elaborate infiltrations by way of Trojan horses.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>You mean really huge condoms? Computer viruses?</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Homophobia was defined as "a morbid fear of homosexuals." We were informed Christianity has caused abysmal harm to gays and lesbians because of its own homophobia. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>Our first boyfriend.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Don't bring that up. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>We wanted to hold his hand in the open. He was ashamed, convinced we were destined </u><u>for damnation.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His minister assured him as much. Without repentance Hell awaited.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>Luke felt powerless over his "sin." He begged God's forgiveness for our caresses, then </u><u>with that clean slate ended his life – before we might sin again.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Upon reflection our tentative touch seems so innocent.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>He died for what he felt inside. His folks, no clue, asked us to be a pallbearer.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It wasn't easy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>They've been devastated ever since. We should level with 'em. It's not too late.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-pagination: none;">Stop saying "we." Makes me sound like a personality disorder. I accept responsibility for that decision. It wouldn't ease their grief.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>Or ours.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Many of the Good Christians squirmed at being accused of homophobia. I was stunned by any such outright admission. It was not quite reparations, but unexpectedly, I wept. <br />
<br />
<u>What can I say? You'll forever be a recovering Southern Baptist.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;">PURLOINED JESUS</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together; page-break-after: avoid;"><u>Take it, Dude.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: lines-together;">Here goes: "Jesus wept." Shortest verse in the Bible. He'd just heard his friend Lazarus had died. He raised Lazarus from the dead. One of the Disciples was more special to Jesus than the others. More special not to His ministry, that would have been Peter, but in some other way. In the Gospel of John, Jesus eats at the Last Supper with the Beloved Disciple's head on His breast. When Jesus announces, "One of you shall betray me," all of the Disciples want to know, "Is it I?" But even Peter asks the Beloved to ask Jesus, as if the Beloved has an inside track. Jesus' last act on the Cross is to create an extended family: When He says to his Mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" He's referring not to himself but to his Beloved (John 19:26-27). </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Since earliest Christianity, the Apostle John has been assumed to be the Beloved. Others claim Lazarus may have been "he whom thou lovest" (John 11:3). Or perhaps someone else...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Remember when we shocked the entire Sunday School into total silence when we asked, "Why is Jesus with a naked guy when He's arrested?"</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">That was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>, not I. But we were beginning to notice such things. The unclothed man was already present when Judas showed up to betray with that infamous kiss, and the naked man was the last to abandon Jesus (Mark 14:50-52). </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>We never did get our answer.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The fact is, intimacy and emotion noted for Jesus in scripture are generally toward someone of the same sex.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Except all those times He's arguing with his Mom.</u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">He addresses females with compassion, but generally as Woman, even his own Mother.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I'm not suggesting the relationship between Jesus and His Beloved was anything other than special. Whatever it was, neither was distressed nor concerned over what people thought, and the other Disciples were accepting. After Jesus' death and resurrection, the others wondered what was to become of the Beloved. Many concluded the Beloved would remain on earth until the Messiah's return. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Mebbe we have.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Jesus appears to bless a same-sex relationship in the miracle of the distraught centurion and his ailing dear (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">entimos</i>) companion. Recorded in both Matthew (8:5-13) and Luke (7:1-10), translations struggle with the bond between the men. The original Greek uses the terms <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doulos</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pais</i> to describe the younger in relation to the older, words that would have been understood by some at the time to mean "servant with privileges of the heart." In any event, Jesus extends his blessings and, at the centurion's behest, restores the younger to health without questioning the nature of the men's union or suggesting changes to it. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">That miracle, by the way, is as close as Jesus comes to personally sanctifying any couple's marriage or relationship in the Gospels. Oh, there was that wedding feast at Cana where, after arguing with His Mother, He reluctantly turns water into wine (John 2:1-10), but that's more like being on the entertainment committee and casts Mary in an unflattering light. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>Reminds me of our favorite auntie, "Don'chu think it's five-o'clock somewhere?"</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I know Jesus Christ knew the Book of Leviticus backward and forward. The only thing He ever quoted from it was Chapter 19, verse 18: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Evangelicals aren't using the King James version of the Bible anymore. No one does. I must be some sort of dinosaur or something. King James was allegedly gay. I naturally assumed that was what I was obliged to follow.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><u>A lot of folks these days use the Internet as their Bible.</u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
END OF PART 1 OF 4. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stealing-Jesus-Fundamentalism-Betrays-Christianity/dp/0609802224/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1290966335&sr=1-1"><img border="0" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TPBMAw4dAkI/AAAAAAAAAGs/kKDl509PfDA/s1600/Bruce+Bawer+Stealing+Jesus.gif" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
Next: Part 2, “Lesbians Are Hot!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br />
PART 1. THE JESUS PIECE back to top <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%201">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">PART 2. LESBIANS ARE HOT <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2010/11/evangelicals-urged-to-stalk-gays-in_30.html">(Go!)</a><br />
PART 3. MOJO OF HOMO NO MO' <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%203">(Go!)</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">PART 4. THE EXORCISM <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Ex-Gay%20Part%204">(Go!)</a> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">© Phil Comer [This piece won first place in nonfiction at the Sandhills Writers Conference.]</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This "ex-gay" revival, "The Philadelphia Conference: Loving Homosexuals as Jesus Would," was held Saturday, September 30, 2006, Christ Chapel at SportsTowne, 170 Starcadia Circle, Macon, Georgia. All speakers were affiliated with "Focus on the Family" and/or "Exodus International." For more information on “Ex-Gay” ministries see <a href="http://www.truthwinsout.org/">"Truth Wins Out"</a>. Unless stated otherwise, photos and links outside this website are not property of the author. </span></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-72170745985159848162010-11-19T17:44:00.007-05:002010-11-30T16:25:41.553-05:00STIGMATA ARE EASY by Phil “Bud” Comer<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Not that long ago "being committed" here in Jawja meant involuntary incarceration in the insane asylum at Milledgeville. Or it implied you’d digested the complete works of Flannery O’Conner.</div> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOb7iXbPaTI/AAAAAAAAAFs/k2Wd98NRbDA/s1600/02+Wedding+church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOb7iXbPaTI/AAAAAAAAAFs/k2Wd98NRbDA/s320/02+Wedding+church.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Duck & Bud Invoke Ancient Rite of Same-Sex Union</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">My commitment to Duck was a different matter. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Duck & I became a couple eleven years ago, but we’d fallen in love before that. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">In 1999, on the eve of Y2K, we marked new beginnings with formal commitment, not a marriage recognized by the United States government, or the state of Jawja, but for us, a passage uniting friends, families and our futures here in Sandtrap, in the <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/p/about-phil-comer.html">home place</a> of my ancestors. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Our minister told us some of the oldest Christian liturgies were for same-sex unions. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Ancient same-sex unions were news to us. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Duck was raised Methodist, I, Southern Baptist. We only got the church history they wanted us to hear.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Fortunately, a Yale University history professor, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Same-Sex-Unions-Premodern-Europe-Boswell/dp/0679751645">John Boswell</a>, now deceased, translated several of these venerable rites. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Inspired by so-called “Y2K,” we chose a service of same-sex union from Y1K housed within an abbey at Grottaferrata in Italy. (See the full script <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B3yiKi45cQuJYjI4M2RmNTMtYTBjNS00OWVkLTk3ZGEtN2M5YjdkNWQyNGM2&hl=en">here</a>.)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">These "crownings," as they were once known, begin with placing crowns on the couple's heads and end with a prayer for the crowns' removal. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The liturgy calls for the union to take place inside a church and to be conducted by both a priest and a deacon. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">As stipulated, Duck & I stood before the Cross holding lighted candles in our left hands. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Before 120 of Sandtrap’s finest – our friends and family – we joined right hands upon the Gospel. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">First, prayers were said for long-ago martyred same-sex couples. These included Serge & Bacchus, Cosmas & Damian, Perpetua & Felicitas, Cyrus & John. They had been martyred for commitment to their God, not each other.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Then there were prayers for the two of us. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The stipulated scriptures were read. We received communion, an element specified by all ancient liturgies for same-sex union. The patron saints of same-sex unions may be Serge and Bacchus, but Bacchus was just a name and had nothing to do with the Roman god of wine. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">At least four Popes selected Serge's name for themselves before these ancient offices fell out of favor. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">A post-ceremony highlight was our honeymoon visit to the monastery in Grottaferrata where 1000 years ago monks copied by hand what we now consider "our" ceremony. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Grottaferrata is a hill town outside Rome. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">We set out from our B&B, a converted countryside stable, on foot following broken-English directions and a flawed map. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">We arrived belatedly for Sunday vespers. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The tiny ornate church at Grottaferrata is nestled within an abbey resembling more a medieval fortification than a place of worship. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Darkly hooded monks recited prayers. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">They chanted and bowed under the spirited guidance of a sprightly priest in vestments of chartreuse and gold. He rang bells, ripped altar curtains open and closed, and repeatedly swung incense over the congregants. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Duck & I left before services ended. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">It was late; the walk was long. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">And blood oozed from my palms. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">On the way to the abbey, some distance outside the gates, a loose grate in the pavement flipped when I stepped on it. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I broke my fall with outstretched hands, but the tumble resulted in a skint knee, and sharp pebbles pierced my palms. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">The wounds bore uncanny resemblance to stigmata. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Of course, the marks were there for the rest of the trip. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Every church in Italy has at least one statue looking Heavenward displaying his or her bleeding hands. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">I gave each a knowing nod, "Yeah, stigmata are easy. I know exactly what happened. You fell." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
(To read the entire script of our 1,000 year-old same-sex commitment ceremony, click <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B3yiKi45cQuJYjI4M2RmNTMtYTBjNS00OWVkLTk3ZGEtN2M5YjdkNWQyNGM2&hl=en">here</a>.)<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Up next in the Heart of Jawja:</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Tater Tots in Mourning”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> chronicles the immolation of Sandtrap’s elder exhibitionist, Tater Tarver. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span><br />
© Phil Comer </div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Nonfiction. Names of state and community have been changed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photo by Nick Oza. Unless stated otherwise, links outside this blog are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-70339164986039510792010-11-15T14:52:00.004-05:002010-11-23T11:33:51.743-05:00SONG FOR BENNY by Phil Comer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOGN3AYvAVI/AAAAAAAAAFU/MKaznDaR76c/s1600/Aunt+Sue+by+Ralph+Parker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOGN3AYvAVI/AAAAAAAAAFU/MKaznDaR76c/s320/Aunt+Sue+by+Ralph+Parker.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Oh, poor Mae Ree Snell, she’s done gone away,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She would if she could, but she could not stay.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She had two peg legs and thick nappy hair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Tongues wagged. Fingers pointed. Folks stopped. They’d stare.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She had them wood legs and a hacking cough,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">But consumption wasn’t what carried her off.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">A high yella' fella' from Waycross town,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Burt up them legs. Mae Ree stuck to the ground. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Them sticks he stroked; they spontan'ous combust!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Scared that man off, left Mae Ree in the dust.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">All day Mae Ree tried. All night Mae Ree cried.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">But stuck there she was; ’fore dayclean, she died.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Doctor Buzzard then, he called in his kin,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">By high sun that day, Mae Ree flew away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOGQJBq3DDI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gwuv9OuXAoM/s1600/St+Simons+Sapelo+Tybee+260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TOGQJBq3DDI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gwuv9OuXAoM/s320/St+Simons+Sapelo+Tybee+260.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Geechee/Gullah Oystermen, Lowcountry, Jawja</span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;">First couplet based on an epitaph from Chumleigh Church, Devon, England. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;">“Dayclean” is a Gullah/Geechee term meaning “dawn.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next in the Silly Poem series:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Breaking Up Sucks,”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> a snarky lament on heartbreak. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Breaking%20Up%20Sucks">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Disclaimer: Characters and events are none you or I know. If you think this doesn't totally suck, please Comment, Follow and click Like. Thanks!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Painting by Ralph Parker, Student Vineville Academy of the Arts, Macon, GA, Paulette Winters, Principal, used by permission. Photo by Phil Comer. Vintage video linked to title: “Yonder Comes Day,” Georgia Sea Island Singers. Unless stated otherwise, links and artwork are for information and not the property of the author.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: right 6.5in;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-52620017140920639042010-11-14T16:23:00.006-05:002011-08-07T20:49:01.552-04:00PARADOKE CORNER - #11 The Incomparable Junior Samples' Paraprosdokian Top Twenty<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Folks around Sandtrap, Jawja, are right fond of their Favorite Son, Junior Samples. He was a big star on the Hee Haw television program way back when and still on cable. Junior is dead now, but he was Mercer County’s Barnyard Bard and did us proud. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Junior deserves a Top Twenty in the Paradoke Corner: </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">20) We been gettin’ a whole lot more aigs. Tacked us up a sign on the henhouse thet sez, ‘An aig a day keeps Col. Sanders away.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">19) “Most of the Mayor’s speeches is like the horns of a steer. A point here. A point thair. Wid a lot of bull in between.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">18) Hiram Bell tole me, ‘My wife haz done run off wid my new best friend!’ I asks him, ‘Iz he a gud lookin’ fella?’ Hiram sed, “I don’t know. Ain’t never met the man.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">17) “Miz Tompkin’s baby pitched a big fit in town the other day. I sez, ‘Ain’t that youngun a mite spoilt?’ She sez, ‘Naw, that’s jist the way it smells.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">16) “I dun lost mah last job ‘cauz of illness ‘n fatigue. Mah boss sed he jist plain sick an’ tired of me.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">15) “How’s yore wife?” I asks Tobe Hawks. He sez, “Compared to what?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">14) If’n you learn from mistakes, why is it some folk have more than one youngun?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">13) “Roscoe wuz in the hospital fer three weeks. Then he taken a turn fur the nurse.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">12) “I sez, ‘I reckon I’ll go outside an’ see if‘n it are rainin’.’ Uncle Gus sez, ‘Thet’s a waste of time. Jist whistle fer the dog an’ see if he’s wet.’”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">11) “Mah memory is reel gud. They’s jist two thangs I cain’t recall. One is people’s names. I forgits whut the other one wuz.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">10) I asked the widow, “What wore yo’ husband’s las’ words?” She sez, “They wuz, ‘I jist don’t see how they kin sell this here fine corn likker fur two bits a quart.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">9) “They dun served me a steak up in New Yawk thet were so rare, I seed cows back home hurt worse than that an’ git well.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">8) I tole the Doc he needed to fix up my son-in-law whut I’d just shot. Doc sez, ‘Why’d you go an’ do that to your own kin?’ I said, ‘Well, he warn’t my son-in-law when I shot him.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">7) They had a cuttin’ an’ near riot over at the hog killin’. Ole Mac was bleedin’ bad. I sez, ‘Did you git cut in the fracas?’ He sed, ‘Nope. Hit war right here above my navel.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">6) “Lawyer Crum iz a gud lawyer. He got Calib Swan a suspended sentence. They hung him.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">5) “Young fella asks me, ‘Kin I have yore daughter fur mah wife?’ I sez, ‘Might be interested. But I’ll have to see yore wife furst.’”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">4) “They all laffed when ole Precious dun come to the party dressed lak a bird. They didn’t know he’d jist been tarred an’ feathered.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">3) “We found us a fishin’ spot that wuz real gud. We marked it for next time. Put us a big ole ‘X’ on the bottom of the boat.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">2) Det story ‘bout Jonah an’ the whale proves one thang. You jist cain’t keep a gud man down.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “Incomparable Junior Samples” Category:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">1) “There ain’t much a’ goin’ on in a small town. But what you hears makes up fur hit.”<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next up in Paradoke Corner: </span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">The <strong>Lucille Ball Tasty Bakers' Dozen <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/2011/08/paradoke-corner-12-lucille-ball.html">(go!)</a></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><strong>Or, check out Sandtrap, Jawja’s latest. </strong><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Compiled by Nick Adams, ranked and translated into near-English by Phil “Bud” Comer. Photo by Bud. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-34521805159968317712010-11-13T13:15:00.010-05:002012-12-13T10:00:14.331-05:00LOVEY DIALS THE DEAD by Phil Comer (October 11, 2008)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
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Lovey is a first-cousin, fourteen years my senior. Neither of us is old. She's a sister I never had, a petite Southern Belle, no bigger than a buttercup, as resilient as a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Phi Mu</i> in Rush. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camellias Bloom All Winter in Sandtrap, Jawja</td></tr>
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I was her pet, trailed her like a puppy. One of my earliest memories is her wedding. I scattered camellia petals down the aisle for her to walk on. </div>
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For reasons unfathomable to those not born of the South, I still have the land line phone number from our grandparents' Avalon Avenue homeplace. "Homeplace," one word, not two for our extended family. </div>
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That house was a high-ceilinged ramshackle Victorian affair long gone in a neighborhood fallen to urban blight. Today that same number rings in Sandtrap, generations of voices now departed. </div>
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Recently a mutual cousin intimated that Lovey might be losing it, talking out of her head. This I rejected outright. Impossible, not our Lovey. When next Lovey called, she sounded fine. </div>
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"I told you so," I reassured myself. </div>
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But then she asked to speak to Aunt Lilly, our beloved aunt, last matriarch of the big house on Avalon Avenue, twenty-five years dead. </div>
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I faltered. </div>
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Lovey chirped, "This IS the number I dialed?" Then she asked to speak with my mother, dead nearly as long. </div>
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I was dumbfounded into silence.</div>
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She said, "Well, Dusty, if they're not home, I guess I'll talk to you. How's everything up at the house?" </div>
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I tried redirection. I inquired about her husband Frank, her children and grandchildren. She was lucid, florid, effusive in detail. </div>
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My sigh of relief became a soft gulp when Lovey pressed, "Did Aunt Lilly die?"</div>
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I stammered, "She's... no longer with us."</div>
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Lovey gasped, "But, I didn't see anything in the papers!"</div>
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"It was a long time ago."</div>
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She paused, "Was I at the funeral?"</div>
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"We all were."</div>
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Lovey was quiet before admitting her mind has been "acting up." </div>
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I said, "At times I forget where I park the pickup." No comparison but Lovey laughed. </div>
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Lovey said, "Sometimes Frank looks at me like I don't have a lick of sense."</div>
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I said, "Why don't you slap him?"</div>
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She laughed again. Lovey's so diminutive her blow would do no harm. </div>
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I told her I loved her and was happy hearing her voice.</div>
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She said, "I'm glad I caught you at the homeplace. Tell the folks I was asking after them."</div>
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I said I would.</div>
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Lovey's problems were undeniable. I had a good cry.</div>
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I dialed her daughter Charlotte and was hesitant to bring up the reason for my call. </div>
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Charlotte shared concerns of her own. Lovey had called looking for her mother's phone number, my Aunt Emma, almost fifteen years dead. Charlotte wasn't sure why Lovey needed the number but found it in an old address book.</div>
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Charlotte thought nothing about it until days later when Lovey reported that her mother must be mad at her because she wasn't picking up the phone. Later, the robotic voice blocking her calls caused Lovey further distress. </div>
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Charlotte has tried to get Lovey to a doctor, but she refuses to go. Her next scheduled appointment isn't for months. </div>
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When I related my call, Charlotte went to check on her mother. Her father Frank had gone to bed, but Lovey was sitting on the living room floor distraught. She was sobbing because someone had told her Aunt Lilly was dead. She couldn't remember who.</div>
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She demanded of Charlotte, "Did you know Aunt Lilly had died?"</div>
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"Yes, Mama. I knew."</div>
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"Why don't people tell me these things?" Lovey wailed. </div>
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People with dementia can't process grief. They forget sorrows already mourned and grieve anew.</div>
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Lovey's husband Frank is in denial. I can't say that I blame him. </div>
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The phone rang in the early evening a week or so later; Lovey's number flashed on caller-ID. </div>
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Again she gushed, "Aunt Lilly?"</div>
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I said, "Hello, Lovey. This is Dusty."</div>
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"Oh, Dusty. I'm so grateful I caught you. Is Mother or Daddy up at the house? Are they there?"</div>
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"The house" on Avalon Avenue. Her "Mother" my Aunt Emma, dead since '97, "Daddy" my Uncle Buster died before that.</div>
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She said, "I'm holding supper. They're never late."</div>
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Biding time I asked, "Have you talked to Charlotte?"</div>
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Lovey snapped, "You know perfectly well they're not over there!" </div>
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She had me. I too began to wonder where they might be and why so late for dinner?</div>
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I said, "Well, they're not here. I'm sure they'll turn up."</div>
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"But, they never miss a meal. I'm starting to worry."</div>
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"Don't. They're fine. Go ahead and eat."</div>
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She asked, "How's Aunt Lilly and the folks?"</div>
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I'd learned my lesson, "As well as can be expected."</div>
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She said, "I thought maybe they lost track of time visiting out on the front porch."</div>
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I choked up. The family did that often. One of their old porch rockers gets frequent use in front of our TV. </div>
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I said, "It's too cold to sit out."</div>
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She said, "Thank heavens it's cooling off. I do despise the wilting heat of summer." </div>
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I pictured Lovey in espadrilles, Capri pants, flowered silk blouse, sunglasses and a broad white sunhat dabbing her brow with a perfumed hanky. </div>
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"Me, too," I concurred, near normal chat. "The leaves are turning. Real pretty right now." </div>
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"You should see the ginkgo outside my kitchen window. Leaves yellow as sunshine." </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ginkgo biloba </i>berries are reputed to stave off memory loss. Why can't those golden boughs reach inside and help Lovey? </div>
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I asked, "How's Frank?" her husband of thirty-five years.</div>
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She stage-whispered, "Not well at all. Thinks I haven't got a lick of sense."</div>
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I admonished, "You two be good to each other." Lovey's a super cook. I asked, "What's for supper?"</div>
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She rattled a spoon against a pot, "Fried okra. Butterbeans. Biscuits," -- Lovey's tea-biscuits, so light and tiny you wonder what holds them on the plate -- "and gravy. Made gravy to go with something... Can't remember what." I heard the oven door open and close. "Mother and Daddy are never this late. What am I supposed to do?"</div>
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I lied, "Everything's fine, Lovey. You and Frank go ahead and eat."</div>
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She said, "I suppose we might as well."</div>
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I told her I loved her. She said she loved me, and we hung up.</div>
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That conversation was easier. I too pretended our loved ones were rocking on the porch awaiting supper. It felt comfortable. I too heard their muffled voices, the creak of the chairs. </div>
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Next evening I was out when Lovey called, again dialing Avalon Avenue.</div>
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Her distressed voice panted in response to the beep, "Dusty, this is Lovey. Frank and I rode over that way to check on things. Didn't see hide or hair of Mother and Daddy. I don't like to know that they're out this time of night. Daddy doesn't see well. Mother doesn't either." </div>
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Lovey took a deep breath and turned on the syrupy charm that's extricated her from many a difficult situation. </div>
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She said, "Anyhow, I'm gon' check on 'em again. Tell everybody up at the house I send my love. And, if <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">anybody </i>hears from Mother and Daddy, for goodness sakes have 'em call me! Bye-bye, now."</div>
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I pray she hasn't gone looking for the old neighborhood. Today's Avalon Avenue is the epicenter for carjackings, crack, street pimps and whores. </div>
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Small mercy that a familiar voice answers when Lovey dials the dead. Does my "performance" aid and abet her dementia? Should I insist Lovey "think straight" and remind her a generation has passed? </div>
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Odd that this ancient telephone number survives among her fading memories. As shadows further envelope twilight, Lovey will recall neither it nor the kindred spirit that answers still. <br />
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* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</div>
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[Names changed. First place winner, nonfiction, Southeastern Writers Association.]<br />
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Sad addendum: Lovey succumbed to the inexorable grasp of
Alzheimer's. She died in hospice December 9, 2012, too beautiful and too young,
and just short of the end of the Mayan Calendar.<br />
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Now for a "pick me up" click <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/video/video.php?v=1270984027794&comments">here</a> for a smile!<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Up next in the Heart of Jawja: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Stigmata Are Easy,”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> a flashback on love and commitment. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Stigmata%20Are%20Easy">(Go!)</a></span></div>
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© Phil Comer </div>
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Disclaimer: characters and events are none you or I know. Thanks for reading. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photo by Robert Apsley. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-9812581712217119472010-11-12T15:49:00.007-05:002012-10-02T22:42:22.872-04:00PARADOKE CORNER - #10 “Doctor’s Orders” Paraprosdokian Top Ten<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. The Paradoke Corner top ten in the Doctor’s Orders category: </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TN2opSoS0aI/AAAAAAAAAFE/NSQmWrSGkhA/s1600/Fair+2010+Peanuts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TN2opSoS0aI/AAAAAAAAAFE/NSQmWrSGkhA/s320/Fair+2010+Peanuts.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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10) I always take life with a grain of salt. Plus a slice of lemon and a shot of tequila.<br />
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9) "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the precipitate." - Henry J. Tillman </div>
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8) "She got her good looks from her father; he's a plastic surgeon." - Groucho Marx </div>
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7) A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are on it.</div>
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6) "There’s a bunch of different crunches that affect the abs… my favorite is Nestle." - Shmuel Breban </div>
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5) I put my daughter to bed and tried to kiss her, and she said, ‘Not tonight, Daddy, I’ve got a terrible headache.’” - Rodney Dangerfield </div>
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4) “I want to live to be a hundred, because you rarely read any obituaries about people over a hundred years old.” - George Burns</div>
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3) “I have three children – one of each.” - Rodney Dangerfield.</div>
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2) “When I was your age, my parents used to rock me to sleep. The rocks were as big as your head.” - Mel Brooks</div>
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And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “Doctor’s Orders” Category:</div>
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1) “Either this man is dead, or my watch has stopped.” - Groucho Marx</div>
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<a href="http://www.bandmine.com/artist/video/cerberusartists/459617/2/Sbp0ENpGoUk"><img border="0" height="293" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TN4B0abprZI/AAAAAAAAAFI/JOvfhhJeJAw/s320/David+Wilkinson+by+Dan+Skinner+crop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next up in Paradoke Corner:</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“The Incomparable Junior Samples,”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> late star of the Hee Haw TV show, gets his own Top Twenty! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/PC%20-%20Junior%20Samples">(Go!)</a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><strong>Or, check out Sandtrap, Jawja’s latest. </strong><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div>
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This is a compilation of work from various sources. Paradoke Corner ranking by Phil Comer. Top photo by Phil Comer, bottom photo by Dan Skinner, model David Wilkinson. Unless stated otherwise, photos and links are for information and not the property of the author.</div>
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Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-79900535432904358172010-11-11T15:23:00.004-05:002011-08-07T16:16:45.969-04:00IN MEOWRIAM by Phil Comer<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Perrt, Brr-Ack, Nee-Oww</i>,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the cream's all been lapped.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNxQPCcCjZI/AAAAAAAAAE8/6RBQbgtx7es/s1600/Sandhill+Farm%252C+Billy+Buckhead+2006+068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNxQPCcCjZI/AAAAAAAAAE8/6RBQbgtx7es/s320/Sandhill+Farm%252C+Billy+Buckhead+2006+068.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Stretched, curled, contented, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the sunbeams catnapped.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pillow kneading <em>purr</em>fected;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>catnip rips now neglected;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>crouching and pouncing complete,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>to dust little cat feet creep.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
<span style="line-height: 150%;">2000, For Billy Buckhead</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yC5XWWsHPMY/Tj7xicgOrSI/AAAAAAAAASU/gN-kjMWRxls/s1600/Billy+Buckhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yC5XWWsHPMY/Tj7xicgOrSI/AAAAAAAAASU/gN-kjMWRxls/s320/Billy+Buckhead.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billy Buckhead</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span></b> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span></b> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next in the Silly Poem series:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Limerick Plus,”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> a limerick that doesn't know when to quit. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Limerick%20Plus">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Disclaimer: Although loosely based on reality, characters and events are none you or I know. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photos by Robert Apsley. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-74760328269430020872010-11-09T16:52:00.003-05:002010-11-10T08:53:14.981-05:00HIGHLIGHTS FROM *RUBY CHEEKS* a novel by Phil Comer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks </i>is the novel I’m querying, my first. When Russell Wheeler's mother reappears after forty years, circus clown Ruby Cheeks refuses to speak of her abandonment of him in childhood; his inept quest for explanations unleashes Southern-fried calamity. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNnDbVvknEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/-Ql_Ggtb2fU/s1600/SIO+Jessica+Walden+%2526+Anthony+Ennis+as+Smalling+sibs_edited.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNnDbVvknEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/-Ql_Ggtb2fU/s320/SIO+Jessica+Walden+%2526+Anthony+Ennis+as+Smalling+sibs_edited.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Complete at 110,000 words, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks </i>spoofs Southern noir. This refresh skewers an edgy pimento-stuffed olive like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil </i>and jiggers cultural mash from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Help </i>into <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Confederacy of Dunces' </i>comic filial gin to pour a bittersweet punch. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Please check out more highlights and excerpts from <em>Ruby Cheeks</em> <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/p/ruby-cheeks.html">here</a>.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Disclaimer: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ruby Cheeks</i> is fiction; characters and events are none you or I know. If you think this doesn't totally suck, please Comment, Follow and click Like. Thanks!</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photo by Phil Comer, models Jessica Walden and Anthony Ennis. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-36941006444462554442010-11-09T07:56:00.001-05:002010-11-23T10:56:58.012-05:00PARADOKE CORNER - #9 CYA Paraprosdokian Top Ten<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. The Paradoke Corner top ten in the “CYA” category: </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNlD-Sv3RDI/AAAAAAAAAEk/7-v80L3EdM8/s1600/Megan+O%2527Neill+Danny+Wasserman+Jeff+Yates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNlD-Sv3RDI/AAAAAAAAAEk/7-v80L3EdM8/s320/Megan+O%2527Neill+Danny+Wasserman+Jeff+Yates.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">10) “He who hesitates is often right.” Garrison Keillor</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">9) You're never too old to learn something stupid.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">8) I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted paychecks.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">7) I don’t really believe in the afterlife, but I am taking a change of underwear. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">6) “If at first you don’t succeed, then quit. There’s no sense being a fool about it.” - W. C. Fields</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">5) To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">4) “In show business, the key word is honesty. And once you’ve learned to fake that, you’re in.” - George Burns</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">3) An atheist is someone with no visible means of support.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">2) Where there’s a will, I want to be in it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “CYA” Category:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">1) “Your manuscript is both good and original, but the part that is good is not original and the part that is original is not good.” - Samuel Johnson <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next up in the Paradoke Corner:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Doctor’s Orders Top Ten”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> category, again, Groucho wins. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/PC%20-%20Doctor%27s%20Orders">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><strong>Or, check out Sandtrap, Jawja’s latest.</strong> <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Compiled from various sources. Paradoke Corner ranking by Phil Comer. Photo by Megan O’Neill. Unless stated otherwise, photos and links are for information and not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-82561777577416175122010-11-08T15:44:00.004-05:002012-03-24T10:20:10.191-04:00A CHICKEN GOES IN A BAR by Phil Comer (August 14, 2010)<div class="WordSection1"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">Hard to believe Far Side cartoonist Gary Larson just turned sixty. One of his beloved panels depicts a chicken in a bar surrounded by cows munching hay. Larson's caption: "Vera looked around the room. Not another chicken anywhere. And then it struck her -- this was a hay bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNhe1IgNDUI/AAAAAAAAAEg/l8D5nSvVeUw/s1600/Hay+Bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNhe1IgNDUI/AAAAAAAAAEg/l8D5nSvVeUw/s320/Hay+Bar.jpg" width="249px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That original came to mind when someone recently forwarded Dan Reynolds' take on the theme: two dogs enjoying cocktails perusing other bar mutts. Reynolds' caption: "Bob and Steve noticed no one else was wearing a collar. Suddenly, they realized they were in a stray bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That added fodder for these:</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A rock climber repels down El Capitan in Yosemite. Halfway down the sheer rock face he comes upon a refreshment stand serving icy rickeys. Caption: "Suddenly, Eric realized he’d dropped in a belay bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Hepcat prowls into a hot spot enticed by the aroma of liver and onions. Tomcats sit on stools licking paws in anticipation. "Suddenly, Jerry realized this was a sauté bar."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div></div><div class="WordSection2"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A penguin waddles into a roadhouse. The joint is filled with ballerinas in tutus twirling before mirrors. "Suddenly, Ralph realized this was a plié barre."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Bartender collie mixing cosmos, one patron mutt licks his nether regions while all the other pooches crouch obediently, tails wagging, tongues lolling. "Suddenly, Rusty realized this was a sit-stay bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Elderly woman staggering into a tavern is blind-sided by a whiteout blizzard and run over by Santa and his reindeer barreling out the door. "Suddenly, Grandma realized this was a sleigh bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Hot in heat foxy poodle sashays into the doghouse lounge howling in her thought bubble "Well, fellas, here I am!" to a disinterested audience. Caption: "Suddenly, Fifi realized this was a spay bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Dressed to the nines the debutante breezes into the cabaret only to encounter shabby revenants recently crawled from their graves, "Suddenly, Cassandra realized this was a zombie fray bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Kansas cutie wearing ruby slippers skips into a gin mill where she’s promptly devoured by lions, tigers and bears. "Oh my, Dorothy should have NEVER darkened a prey bar."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">After weeks on Weight Watchers a super-sized co-ed tromps into a den of iniquity only to be confronted by enormous scales. "Suddenly, Aurelia realized this was just another weigh bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A dish slips into a nightspot crowded with handsome good time Charlies, each of whom offers her flowers. "Suddenly, Eloise realized this must be a bouquet bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Doll goes in a taproom. All the patrons, male and female, diddle each other through unisex lingerie. "Suddenly, Candy realized this was a foreplay bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The man about town bursts in a honky-tonk. Laundry is strung all over the dump. "Suddenly, Walter realized this was a washday bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Little Bo-Peep herds her flock into a bistro feeling fetching with her bonnet and staff, but everyone else wears silly French headgear. "Suddenly, Miss Peep realized this was a beret bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Blond Colombian bombshell shimmies into a posada. There’s only Carmen Miranda impersonators shaking maracas. "Suddenly, Shakira realized this was a merengue bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Sweet patootie enters a nightclub wearing sweats. Everyone else, men and women, wear sequins, high heels and fishnet stockings. "Suddenly, Corine realized this was a lamé bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Meat-eating dinosaur lumbers into a late-Mesozoic dive. He’s the only dino there, not even a bartendersaur; the place is in shambles, a sign across the back mirror "Extinct." Caption: "Rex was dismayed to discover he was in a passé bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Gent strolls into a mug hall moments after an airplane crashes through the ceiling. "Suddenly, Lewis realized this was a Mayday bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Stud ambles into a hotspot, every sugar daddy wannabe sports an atrocious hairpiece. "Suddenly, Winston realized he was in a toupee bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Babe flounces into an opium den in Chinatown; no one speaks English. "Suddenly, Patty realized this was an émigré bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Buckaroo swaggers into a pub, tries to order a drink, but the bartender just keeps spouting words that all mean the same thing. "Suddenly, Dexter realized he was in a Roget bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A Lothario meanders into a juke-joint, a beam of high energy particles passes through his body and projects an image of his skeleton on the wall. "Suddenly, Cedric realized this was an x-ray bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Horndog struts into a brewhouse just as an atom bomb detonates. "Simon had not a moment to notice he’d entered the Doomsday bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This tootsie traipses into a nightspot shoulder-to-shoulder with tall, dark and handsome men wearing string-ties and boleros. "Estelle's heart was aflutter to discover she’d stumbled into an hombre bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Floozy jaunts up to a lounge. BIG neon sign on the door beckons "Come Inside." Caption: "Suddenly, Heather realized she was about to enter a double entendre bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Chum plods into a tidal pool only to be beset by a bunch of flat fish armed with stingers. "Albert suddenly realized he was in a stingray bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This Romeo saunters into an alehouse only to be knocked out cold by an errant golf ball. "When Andrew came to, he realized he had wandered into the fairway bar."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Goateed beatnik oozes into a poetry slam. Appreciative patrons snap fingers to a purple-wigged drag diva in enormous rhinestone glasses clutching the microphone. In her speech bubble, "My candle burns at both ends / It gives a lovely light" Caption: "Unbeknownst, Yost chanced upon the world's only Dame Edna St. Vincent Millay bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Lured by the squeak of flesh and craving blood, the caped vampire stalks from the shadows only to be incinerated to ashes by the sun. "Too late Dracula realized this was a day bar." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">A chicken on a stool in a barn bar surrounded by cows, party hats on horns, blowing blowouts and kazoos while twirling noisemakers and clacking castanets between their cloven hooves. "Vera looked around the room. And then it struck her -- Gary Larson turned sixty this year!" </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Disclaimer: Although loosely based on reality, characters and events are none you or I know. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text and concepts are copyright material of the author, except brief quotes of others. Illustration of Larson’s cartoon originally published in Macon (Georgia) Telegraph. Unless stated otherwise, photos, cartoon and links are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-69604227144007113572010-11-08T08:02:00.001-05:002010-11-23T10:54:59.299-05:00PARADOKE CORNER - #8 Pollyanna’s Paraprosdokian Top Ten<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. The Paradoke Corner top ten in the “Pollyanna’s” category: </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNf0V117TiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/5sWnEHnpRbQ/s1600/Patsy+Fried+Japan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNf0V117TiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/5sWnEHnpRbQ/s320/Patsy+Fried+Japan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">10) My gal was faithful to the end. Unfortunately, I was the quarterback. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">9) “A verbal contract isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.” Sam Goldwyn</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">8) We don’t serve women at this bar. You have to bring your own.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">7) “When I told my gentile girlfriend I was bringing the bagels, she set two extra places.” George Furth</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">6) “There are still things you can get for a dollar – like nickels, dimes and quarters.” - Charles Lindner</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">5) “That restaurant was so crowded, nobody ever goes there anymore.” Yogi Berra</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">4) “I ran and ran and ran from the murderers ‘till Mom shook me awake.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">3) "I discovered my wife in bed with another man, and I was crushed. So I said, 'Get off me, you two!'" - Emo Philips </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">2) “A bum said to me, ‘I haven’t eaten in three days.’ I said, ‘Force yourself.’” - Henny Youngman</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “Pollyanna’s” Category:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">1) “I wouldn’t hurt a fly – unless it was open.” - Mae West<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next up in the Paradoke Corner:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">The <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“‘CYA’ Top Ten”</b> category goes way back. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/PC%20-%20CYA">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><strong>Or, check out Sandtrap, Jawja’s latest. </strong><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"></span><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Compiled from various sources. Paradoke Corner ranking by Phil Comer. Photo by Phil Comer, model Patsy Fried. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-29518823336354219382010-11-07T16:59:00.003-05:002012-03-26T14:13:12.216-04:00KAREN BLACK ENCOUNTER by Phil "Bud" Comer (April 25, 2009)<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Sometimes, I doubt <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Limerick%20Plus">Duck</a>, my better half, comprehends the rigors involved in being a full-time writer, house-husband and critter-sitter. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He accuses me of fabricating material. This afternoon's encounter was no exception. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNcg6Qy3LFI/AAAAAAAAAEY/rwZjWpwMBL4/s1600/Nu-Way+full+streetscape.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNcg6Qy3LFI/AAAAAAAAAEY/rwZjWpwMBL4/s320/Nu-Way+full+streetscape.JPG" width="313px" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I ran into the big city (<a href="http://www.maconga.org/">Macon</a>) for errands and a few super-sized items from the Mega-Mart. I stopped in the Nu-Way wiener stand for a late afternoon pick-me-up, a couple of all-the-way dogs. The Nu-Way is a landmark, on Cotton Avenue since the nineteen-teens. Even Oprah ate there when she was in town. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The place was crowded, but a counter stool was open next to a bag lady. Bag ladies portend interesting, if incoherent, conversation.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This one looked as though she'd persevered the apocalypse. Vexing an unlit cigarette, earthly possessions spilling from an enormous gold lamé tote between her feet, the nubs of a couple of gnawed dogs on her plate, decked out in a blond fright wig, though it wasn't Halloween. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Not actually that shabby, she looked as though she'd hit Goodwill and made a decent haul. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"There but for the grace of God," thought I. It seemed she was close to leaving and might need help with the bill. I slipped onto the stool alongside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She picked up the cigarette and thumped it down. She yelled at the waitress, "Miss! Fix me up with another couple of the same! Exactly like the last!"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I figured, "Damn. She's got me pegged as her mark for more dogs. Poor thing must be starving."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I mumbled to the waitress, "Two all-the-way combo. Fries. Ice tea."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The server grunted.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I nodded to the bag lady as she took a faux drag from the unlit fag. This particular unfortunate seemed familiar.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I said, "'Scuse me, Ma'am. Do I know you? Are your people from Sandtrap?" I thought maybe I'd seen her at the U-Save. Or Marge's Hardware. A family reunion? But no one dresses with that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">je ne sais quoi</i> shabby chic in Sandtrap apart from <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ-Squash%20Casserole">Queen Tush</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The bag lady belted a brassy laugh, and one eye grazed past me, "You're sweet. What the f^ck is Sandtrap?" She turned and bored a hole through me with the other. That smoky voice. The optical asymmetry. "Of course you know me." She asserted, "I'm Karen Black."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I repeated, "Karen Black?"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She rolled one mascara'd eye toward the ceiling, then the other, "Must be the tiles. There's an echo in here. Christ, I love this place!" </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The waitress delivered our dogs. Ms. Black pushed her soiled plate toward the waitress with the butt of her palm, "I couldn't finish those."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She'd only left a nub of dog and pinch of bun.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">No sooner had the waitress turned than Ms. Black screeched, "Mustard! I need mustard!" </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Everyone was looking at Karen Black then. The waitress bolted around. I hastened the closest yellow squeeze bottle.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Having secured the server's attention, Ms. Black tapped the rim of her drained glass, "'Scuse me! 'Scuse me! Could I have another orange pop?" Then she hissed in my ear, "Tastes like piss."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The waitress whisked the glass away mumbling beneath her breath, "That's 'cause I pee'd in it."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Ms. Black, not versed in Southern passive-aggressive vernacular, missed that.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In slight-of-hand magic, Ms. Black lit her cigarette. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I said, "You can't smoke in here."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Karen Black said, "If one can't smoke in Macon f^cking Georgia, where can one smoke?"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The waitress addressed me, "Is she a friend of yourn? She's 'bout to get her patooty hauled off to the pokey."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I entreated the waitress, "She's from out of town. Cut her some slack. She's famous."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Famous is, as famous does. Tell the lady to put out the smoke. Or, I'm calling the cops."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Suddenly, I was responsible for Karen Black's behavior.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Ms. Black moaned, "My God, the cigarette police." She stubbed her smoke onto a french fry having snatched a couple of draws. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Through modulated breath and clenched teeth, "I don't smoke. My role demands it."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She turned sizing me up, like calculating how much meat I'd dress out to after slaughter. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Smoke still held, Ms. Black intoned, "What do you do? No, let me rephrase that, 'What do you do?'"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Hot damn! Karen Black WAS an actress. That second reading sounded like she cared! </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And if I'd held my breath that long, I'd be blue. I responded, "I'm a writer."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She finally exhaled, "You're a writer. I'm a writer. Everyone's a f^cking writer. And, you're gay."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"It shows?"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Your hair reeks of product. And your wife-beater, designer. Hand-dyed mauve."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I touched my hair, "It's the <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Avon%20Calling">Avon Lady</a>. I'm powerless over her. And the shirt I got off a Mormon missionary. I used it to strain <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ-Squash%20Casserole">blackberry wine</a>." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">She said, "I'm filming in studios around the corner. On Poplar Street. You should come. Now, I must change for dinner."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Where's she gonna stuff more food?" I wondered.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Then, I study lines. Although there aren't so many lines in this film as atmosphere. But, that is what cinema is all about, isn't it? I never sleep when I study lines. Or create atmosphere. But our chat has been charming. Do come to the shoot tomorrow. Let's hang out."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Shoot? Hang out? People I don't know? I think I'll be washing the Avon Lady's "product" from my hair. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In another magic trick, she slapped two twenties on the counter trumping both checks, hers and my own, "Lunch is mine." She stood clutching her gold bag. Hugging herself she glanced around the stainless fixtures and Nu-Way's vintage placards, "I've told people all over the world about this dive." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">As it turned out, there was not one, but three movies filming in Macon at that moment. One about baseball, another about <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEMZwQulT1Q">zombies</a> closed the carwash for the better part of a week, and the third was whatever Karen Black was in. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">So, Duck came in from work, popped a beer, and I enthused, "You'll never guess who bought me lunch, Karen Black!"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He shrugged, "Do we know her?"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Karen Black? The actress? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Five Easy Pieces</i>? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nashville</i>? Whole bunch of stuff? I downloaded half-a-dozen of her movies before you got home!"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He furrowed his brow, "The cross-eyed one, right?"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"What? No!"</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Wall-eyed?" He persisted.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">"Duck! You wouldn't believe it. It was her! Karen Black. I only mistook her as a bag lady for an instant."</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">He stroked his beard, "When I was in boys high back in Kansas, my junior year, the English teacher was pretty. But wall-eyed. This one time, she got so mad. She thrust fists onto her hips and snapped, 'I'm looking at you, Mister!' Half the class panicked." </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Up next in the Heart of Jawja:</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Lovey Dials the Dead,”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> it’s not always fun and games in Sandtrap. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/Lovey%20Dials%20the%20Dead">(Go!)</a></span></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">© Phil Comer </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Disclaimer: Although loosely based on reality, characters and events are none you or I know. However, an actress named Karen Black was filming the movie <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRHpUxYwSs0">STUCK!</a> in Macon, Georgia, in the spring of 2009. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Text is copyright material of the author. Photo by Phil Comer. Unless stated otherwise, links outside this blog are for information and not the property of the author.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9067182492270564727.post-34322883287569695492010-11-07T12:23:00.001-05:002010-11-23T10:52:37.242-05:00PARADOKE CORNER - #7 The “Now Cliché” Paraprosdokian Top Ten<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraprosdokian">Paraprosdokian</a>, two phrases, the second changing the meaning of the first, usually in a funny or humorous way. The Paradoke Corner top ten in the “Now Cliché” category: </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNbf9pweFII/AAAAAAAAAEU/U2hGGX3J18E/s1600/rebecca+axe+in+head+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4Agu6FFBtNM/TNbf9pweFII/AAAAAAAAAEU/U2hGGX3J18E/s320/rebecca+axe+in+head+crop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">10) “Let’s get out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini” - Robert Benchley</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">9) "If you aren't fired with enthusiasm, you will be fired with enthusiasm." – Vince Lombardi </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">8) Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says "If an emergency, notify:" I put</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"DOCTOR."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">7) “I belong to no organized party. I am a Democrat.” -- Will Rogers </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">6) Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">5) "You can leave in a taxi. If you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that's too soon, you can leave in a minute in a huff.” - Groucho Marx, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Duck Soup</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">4) "We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." Benjamin Franklin </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">3) “Take my wife – please.” Henny Youngman </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">2) “It’s deja vu all over again.” Casey Stengel</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">And the Paradoke Corner Winner in the “Now Cliche” Category:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">1) "One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas I'll never know." -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Groucho Marx <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Next up in the Paradoke Corner:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">“Pollyanna’s Top Ten”</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> category belongs to Mae West, and others. <a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/PC%20-%20Pollyanna">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"><strong>Or, check out Sandtrap, Jawja’s latest. </strong><a href="http://philcomer.blogspot.com/search/label/HOJ%20-%20Tater%20Tots%20in%20Mourning">(Go!)</a></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Compiled from various sources. Paradoke Corner ranking by Phil Comer. Photo by Phil Comer. Unless stated otherwise, links are for information and not the property of the author.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Phil Comerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06364178973765125756noreply@blogger.com0