King of the South

I've spent my whole life in the South and I love it here. When people play the "If I could live anywhere, it'd be ....." game, my answer is always the boring one. Because it's here, just with more land and a nicer house. I love how you can go from a bustling city like Nashville to rolling farmland like Triune in the space of about 20 minutes' drive. But over the years my beloved South has undergone a lot of changes. Part of it is just the world moving on as the world does. Global television and the internet have brought New York City and Nashville seconds apart from each other. Part of it is the car factories that moved to Tennessee to take advantage of the cheap land and lack of income tax, bringing unemployed Michiganian auto workers with them. As Lewis Grizzard once pointed out "there's more yankees here now than there were when Sherman marched through".

But that's ok. My wife is a yankee (reformed) and most of my friends are from out of state somewhere. I welcome anyone to come experience the splendor of our great state. But, in order to keep the South the wonderful place that it has always been, there've got to be some rules. Therefore, I've decided that someone has to do the job and it may as well be me. From here on, I have officially declared myself King of the South.

As any good king would do, I have even written some proclamations for my new subjects to abide by. This goes for yankees and corrupted natives alike...

Proclamation 1: Anyone in the Kingdom of South displaying a garment, bumper sticker, or other accoutrement displaying the phrase "Cowboy/girl Up" will be required to prove that he or she has spent at least 8 of the last 12 months herding cattle from Wyoming to Texas. Those found to be in violation of this proclamation will be held down by 3 "real" cowboys while a fourth demonstrates the art of branding by permanently embellishing the offender's forehead with the word "MORON". The offender will then be banished from the Kingdom of South and set free to find his/her fortune in the barren wastes (also known as Baltimore).

Proclamation 2: Nascar is not a sport and heretofore will not be referred to as such in Kingdom of South. Football is a sport. Basketball is a sport. Boxing is a sport. Nascar is driving. In circles. For 5 hours. If a denizen of the Kingdom of South really wishes to fork out $300 to watch nail-biting, edge of your seat action in a car, they may pay the same fee to me, thier king. I will then allow them to ride shotgun in the Royal Minivan as I attempt to merge onto Briley Parkway during rush hour. This is not recommended for the faint of heart.

Proclamation 3: Real southerners do not eat chitlins. These are touted as southern delicacies in an attempt to play jokes on yankees. Bets are often made between southerners on whether the part of a pig that the crap comes out of can be made appetizing sounding enough to convince a northerner to eat it. This practice is hereby outlawed in the Kingdom of South. It is cruel and heartless and the poor yankees don't know any better.

Proclamation 4: If a citizen of the Kingdom of South is found to be wearing a belt buckle that is similar in weight and size to the WWE Heavyweight Title, said person will be forced to defend his right to wear such a belt against Batista and Stone Cold Steve Austin in a Texas Tornado Death Match at the next pay per view event.

Proclamation 5: There is no animal that naturally produces hot pink leather so anyone in the Kingdom of South caught wearing hot pink cowboy boots will be summarily dumped in the Cumberland River, his fate to be decided by the ravages of whatever chemicals happen to have been deposited there the day before.

Proclamation 6: Citizens of the Kingdom of South will not be permitted to begin any sentence with the phrase "You might be a redneck if..." Jeff Foxworthy is funny when he says this. You are not.

Proclamation 7: Singers will be required to take a test that proves a passing familiarity with the works of Hank Williams Sr., Patsy Cline, Willie Nelson, and Ronnie Milsap before being allowed to use the word "country" to describe his/her record. If your primary influence is Def Leppard, you are not a country artist.

There you have it. A few decrees to keep the Kingdom of South running smoothly. I think this king thing might work out. It's good to be king, at least according to the Kingdom's Secretary of Rock & Roll, Tom Petty. Besides, once Darth Kel conquers the left coast as she seems poised to do any day now, we can begin a sweep of all the states in the middle until we meet in Oklahoma, poised to raise our flag (a pint of Guinness and a Miller Light in the bottle) and begin our reign of terror. Mwahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Or something like that...

Until then,
King Gryph

"It's good to be king, whatever it pays..."
-Tom Petty

NP: Tom Petty: The Last DJ

Grandparents Say the Darndest Things

No one warned me...

When I was engaged, everybody and their brother had advice for what to expect in a marriage, how to gain the upper hand in the marriage, how to keep a marriage successful, how to avoid marital conflict. I even had several married friends give me advice that was essentially "RUN. NOW. While there's still time!!!!"

But no one warned me about the grandparents...

Granted, no one had to warn me about Joan's grandmother. She's hated me since before she met me and becoming part of the family has made it worse. So it was a great surprise when she was the first to slap us with the BIG QUESTION. The question no one warned me about. The question I assumed I had a year or two before I had to deal with.

"So, when do you guys plan to have kids?"

What???!!!! Kids. Nowhere in the wedding vows did anyone mention kids. Kids are not in my contract. I read it twice.

Don't get me wrong, I like kids. One of the things I inherited on getting married was two adorable nephews, 3 and 2, who I love like I'm their blood. I have dedicated myself to being the "cool uncle". The one who brings fun gifts and knows interesting stories. The one who is more like a kid himself than an authority figure.

But that's just it. I like kids. Other people's kids. Other people's kids are great. If I feel the need to bond with a youngster I just call up Joan's sister or one of my cousins with children and I take them to the zoo or the discovery science center or a baseball game. But, and this is a major point, I can give them back. If they start to cry or yell or smell funny I can take them back to their mothers to be repaired. You can't do that when the kid is yours.

So I brushed off Joan's grandmother's comments as an attempt to get inside my head and cause me to bolt. But then comes my grandmother with the same thing. My grandmother is much more subtle than Joan's. No "when are you having kids" from her. Just subtle hints about how she's getting older and liable to die before I provide her with great grandchildren to enjoy. No pressure...

People at work ask the same question. Friends as well. Suddenly everyone seems creepily interested in my reproductive processes.

Is it really so wrong to not know yet if you want kids? Apparently so. The advice givers were mortified that Joan and I hadn't worked this out before we got married. But we had. She isn't sure (leaning toward yes), I'm not sure (leaning toward no) but we both want to wait a few years until we're settled and in a better place financially before we even begin discussing it. That's a decision.

And if we do, eventually, decide we don't want children, does that make us somehow evil? Also apparently so. Someone not long ago told me that couples who don't have children are "selfish" because people are put on this Earth to reproduce and if you don't it's only because you're too caught up in yourself to make a sacrifice for someone else. They couched it in some sort of religious argument, which is usually the quickest way to lose me. But isn't it more selfish to have a kid if you aren't sure you are ready for one, or even want one at all? Isn't it more selfish to blindly reproduce without studying the consequences and your ability to parent? Isn't it more selfish to just have a kid knowing you're in debt and the child won't have everything they might if you only waited a few years?

And aren't all those people pressuring me to have children just attempting to get themselves what I'm already enjoying; someone to spoil without the responsibility? Isn't that, in itself, selfish?

So here's the official announcement to stop the questions. There will be, barring any accidents of birth control, no children. Not for a few years and maybe not ever. Get over it. If you want kids, go adopt some. I work with lots of them who need good homes. My sperm are not for rent.
"A word to the wise ain't necessary -- it's the stupid ones that need the advice."
-Bill Cosby

NP: Pink Floyd: Dark Side of the Moon

Gimme a Sign

When I was a kid, church signs were simple. They usually said something along the lines of "Close Second Primitive Baptist Church. Service: 10:30, Sunday School: 12:00. Preacher: Brother Jimmy Wallace" But somewhere along the line, the people in charge of church signs got a spark of misguided creativity. Suddenly my hour long commute to work (where I pass roughly 573 churches. This is Tennessee after all) is filled with church signs that have little quotes on them. And I'm not talking about quotes from people worth quoting like Mark Twain, Thomas Jefferson, or Dr. Martin Luther King. I'm talking stupid little bumper sticker quotes that are supposed to make you think or laugh but usually make me slightly nauseous.

There's one on my drive in that tells me "Seven Days Without Prayer Makes One Weak." Get it. Weak. Because that's kind of like Week, only spelled differently (unless you're the Church of God I saw on a trip to Nashville one time that actually had it spelled week. That one did make me laugh). That's the level of humour you're looking at here.

And those are the coherent ones. Unfortunately, roadside signs do not have Microsoft Word equipped in them so spelling and grammar checks are non-existant. So you'd think the church folken would put their most literate member in charge of the sign, right?

Wrong... I've seen spelling on signs that would make my second grade English teacher cry. I'm not talking about the normal "letters fall off in the wind" mispellings that result in messages like "G e the De il an nc and he w l be our ru er", which always reminds me of the Ea A Oes song from A Mighty Wind. This is people without a basic elementary competency.

Even worse than those are the people who can't remember their bumper sticker dogma and end up posting things like "If you were convicted of being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" I'm still confused by that one. I've certainly heard of having enough evidence to convict but not being convicted (see Simpson, Orenthal James) but I'm pretty sure if you were convicted there was, by definition, enough evidence to convict you. Maybe it's a Zen thing like that whole tree falling in the woods deal. I'm not sure.

So, since I'm sure none of the churchies are going to heed my plea to go back to simple church signs (only announcements of fellowship dinners should disturb that natural order) I'm proposing another idea. A national Bureau of Church Slogans to oversee sign content. Why not, we already have at least 12 departments doing intelligence and anti-terrorism work under Bush. We have a Federal Communications Commission that seems to feel it is their job to tell me what I can and can't watch on television. Why not a Bureau of Church Slogans? There are more churches with signs in my home county than there are television stations anyway.

I even have a candidate for the first Secretary of Church Slogans. My own editor, Darth Kel. Darth Kel possesses the intellect, knowledge of proper grammar, and a sense of good sentence structure. She has managed to turn years of my aimless brain dumps into readable works, and throughout it has remained a steadfast friend, so she's experienced in working and maintaining good relations with the mentally deficient.

So there you have it Kel. I just promoted you. Go forth and proselytize. Or at least assist others in thier proselytizing ways. Once you've got that under control, we can expand your sign-fixing authority. There's a place in Dothan Alabama called "Sue's Barbeque and Hair Salon" that could use your help.

No, I'm not making the BBQ/Hair Salon up...
Really...
We drive past it every time we go to Orlando...
No, I don't eat there...

Until next time,
Gryph

My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind.
-Albert Einstein

NP: Pat Benatar- Best Shots