So, after work, I had to do a quick YouTube search and watch this video for the millionth time in my life. I'm not sure what makes this video more epic - the throwback Braves jersey on one drummer, Artimus Pyle being the other drummer, Donnie Van Zant wearing that black hat or the fact that it's the very first song that was "our's." (is it "ours" or our's? anyway..) On our third or fourth date this song came on the radio in my little '94 Ford Ranger. She hollered "I LOVE THIS SONG!!!!!!!!!!" and reached for the volume. Though I went down some bad roads to find her, I'm happy that I did. Jeff Foxworthy is laughing somewhere because, truly, if a .38 Special song puts you in a romantic state of mind you miiiiiiiiiight be a redneck.
This Saturday would be a good Saturday to be in Tupelo. (yeah, I'm a frequent visitor to Daily Journal.com, your source for Northern Mississippi news and information.......no, I'm not sure why.) They're holding their craft beer festival and six Mississippi breweries will be featured. And, because I'm a "word nerd" and like appropriately named places and things, I'm not sure which participating brewery's name I like the most - "Southern Prohibition Brewing" or "Lazy Magnolia." After a visit to the Lazy Magnolia Brewing Company's website, though, we have a winner. Whether it's their "Southern Pecan Nut Brown Ale" ("the first beer in the world, to our knowledge, made with whole roasted pecans...") or the grace and genteelness evoked by the image of a magnolia tree (possibly shadowing a wrap-around porch with a ceiling fan and an old dog lying on the step) there seems to be plenty to like. What? I should actually taste their goods before I act like they're the second coming? C'mon - "We love great beer, great food and all things southern...cheers y'all!" They sound like pretty good people to me.
Also in my semi-regular visit to the Daily Journal, I ran across this piece from Leslie Criss. It took me straight back to that little East Atlanta Library (next to the fire station if I remember corrrectly) and my favorite story about my other favorite story. "Mike Mulligan's Steam Shovel" was my favorite story. But then I graduated to "Mike's House" which was a story about a little guy in whom (who?) I found much in common. He loved my favorite story so much that he called the library "Mike's House" because that's where his favorite story lived. Though I didn't have the luxury of being within walking distance of the library (as did Ms. Criss) I usually did jump in a big blue '64 Chevrolet leaving the library with both of those books under my arm. Until, that is, Santa was gracious enough one year to bring me a copy of both. They're probably still in this house somewhere and held together by a lot of tape. Wish I could find them and sit cross-legged (not sure if it's correct anymore to call it sitting "indian style") in the middle of the living room floor with some cherry kool-aid and a handful of those butter cookies with holes in the middle that you can wear like rings. I'd cancel a couple of already scheduled conference calls to go down that road again. (and then take some Tylenol to alleviate the after-effects inflicted upon 2 arthritic knees that sitting cross-legged in the floor would cause...)
"You know, you might consider taking Jesus Christ as your personal Lord & Savior..."
"I like Jesus very much...but he no help with curve ball."
"Are you trying to tell me that Jesus Christ can't hit a curve ball?"
Great baseball quote from a great baseball movie ("Major League") I ran across more great baseball dialogue this morning while reading an interview with Arthr Idlett, a member of the Atlanta Black Crackers.
"Pitchers had to play outfield and catchers had to alternate at third base. Most teams carried about three pitchers. Well, that pitcher could pitch every third day. We didn't know about tired and all that kind of stuff. They would get sore arms and they would rub the other down with mustard roll and we made a concoction of alcohol and black pepper, rubbed him down."
Talk of pitchers' arms and pitchers' elbows are things modern day baseball fans in Atlanta have heard way too much of here in the early days of this spring's training. Perhaps there needs to be more mustard, alcohol and black pepper in the modern day pitcher's regimen. So to more pleasant thoughts - I learned in the same interview that "Spiller Field" (which was at the Ponce de Leon Springs Amusement Park) was the original home of the Crackers (both black and white.) There was a lake at the amusement park and the original stands of what became Ponce de Leon park were built where the lake was drained. It's funny to read about baseball in Atlanta during that time and learn that baseball FAR eclipsed football in popularity in Atlanta. Industrial, school and league teams dominated much of the city's summer leisure time. In the early part of the twentieth century, one found games being played anywhere you found grass.
"The visiting team furnished two balls and the home team furnished two balls. That was four balls. Okay, we've stopped many a game until they found the balls..."