Thursday, April 09, 2009

Dear Miley Cyrus...



Welcome to Savannah, Georgia. Let me introduce myself. My name is Sam Johnson, a lifelong citizen here in what we call The Coastal Empire. We're pretty happy here in our little city and think it's wonderful here. We welcome all who come here with iopen arms and hope they have a wonderful time as they visit. All of that being said, let me cut to the point of this welcome.

You and your Hollywood people mess up my city or so help me God, we will thrwo bad juju on your little movie.

Let me explain: Word got you about your new movie you'll be filming in towm, "The Last Song", written by the guy who wrote The Notebook. While not my favorite movie (in truth as a crybaby chick flick, I would rather eat razors dipped in witch hazel), I understand that you wish to further your career by stepping away from Hannah Montana. Good for you. But there are rules when it comes to Savannah and we expect you to abide by them. Please Google my site to find over 100 of them.

I will say that I am happy thaty we have a major motion picture being filmed here, but we know how you Hollywood types are when you get here. You trash our town with garbage, you block our traffic in the squars, you treat our people like we're backwards country folks. I will admit that there are some folks like that here, but do not take us for granted. Keanu tried that here in 1999 with The Gift. We left him drunk in a bar for days. Kenneth Branaugh lost his accent for The Gingerbread Man and never regained it. EVER. Don't even let me tell you what happened when they did Midnight in The Garden of Good and Evil in the town that made the book famous. Clint Eastwood refuses to talk abou it now.

See, we don't give a durn that that film a movie here. Well, we do as it's good for the economy . Also, Savannah if full of hams who wish they could be in the movies. Oh yeah, after Forest Gump touched Amercia for over 100 million, we stopped playing around. See our agent, Jay Self.

So come on down and film your movie here, Little Miss Cyrus. But by all that is holy, if you take up my parking spot downtown while i go pay my electric bill so you can let the frickin' paparazzi take a shot of you going into Smoothie King, I will march down to where ever you film and dress up like Hannah Barbera or whatever you play and sing "Acky-Breaky Heart" at the top of my lungs. So help me if I don't do it, I know a few drag queens who will. Not really well, of course. I mean, I know of some folks who may know some folks, alright?

Welcome to Savannah, my town. don't mess it up. Enjoy your stay.

Sunday, April 05, 2009

How To Make Any Website Better (including this one)

Just add bacon. Yep, like this, or this or this. Remember the two things Uncle Sam has taught you in life: Bacon goes with everything and monkeys are funny. I wonder if they go good with bacon? Maybe not.

"99 and a half won't do..."

A couple of years ago, the Savannah Morning News printed they thought should be the 99 rules for living in Savannah. Now, while I thought that it was right on the button and written well by the late Gene Downs, I also felt that somethings were missing and so I came up with some addendums for the list right afterward. This morning, I had breakfast with a friend of mine named Kellyn at Cleary's on Habersham & 63, While over great food, we got to talking about how quirky this town is, as she is from Nebraska. It got me to thinking about that list of 99 and maybe I should add just a few more things. Let's try these on for size, Coastal Empire:

"Lordy, I just got Facebook. Now I can see everybody I just saw at work online drunk as a skunk for St. Pat's!

Middleground Road used to be two lanes, 35 MPH and folks drove at 45MPH. Now Middleground is four lanes 35 MPH and folks drive 35MPH.

This time out, WJCL and Fox 28 are going to keep this news team for a bit longer than six months. They had that reality show.

Speaking of which, if you see that Ruby lady outside of McDonough's at 11 pm with a bunch of folks, it's just the Style Network folk plotting the next seasson. Pay no attention. To them or the show. Publicly, of course, as you don't watch reality tv. Bless her heart.

If you really have to have a Guiniess beer, go to Leopold's Ice Cream parlor and order a Guiniess ice cream. You'll be glad you did.

We love our sweet tea, but now we can get it by the fifths? AMAZING.

I know there's more out there about Savannah. Someone will let me know soon. Bless their hearts.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Some Like It Hot

Here's something I'll bet you never thought about: Is the way you like yuour chili the way yuo live your life?

No, this is not an April Fool's Joke.I may go off on a rant about some crackpot ideas, but this one is a good one. I promise.

I was talking to a friend on the phone yesterday when I told her that I was planning on making a bowl of ol' Texas Red the way I like it. So I made mention that the was way you like your chili says a lot about you. She kind of laughed about it and thought it was kooky. But, I explained thhat it actualy makes sense when you think about it. Yes, I have that much free time on my hands amid all the madness. It was either this or I try to debunk the myth that people really do think Lady Gaga has talent.

Now here's the way I decipher it and if you choose to believe so as well, then you must be a chili lover and you are just as nuts as I am.


If you like your chili with beans, then you're the type of person who believes in the old fashioned way Mama used to make. That makes you a traditional person who believes that the old way are still the good way. There's nothing wrong with that, I would guess. Although, I'd do my best to eat it in a room with open windows.

If you like your chili without beans, then it means you're a no frills kind of person. The kind that doesn't need all the bells and whistles to make themselves happy. You also have lots of friends for to eat chili with in an open room with no windows.

Spice is important with it comes to the chili.There are those who like their chili as hot as the sun. Those are folks who live their lives on the edge. The troublemakes, the danger seekers, the ones who sat in the back of the school bus and set off firecrackers. You wanted to sit at the back of the bus with those guys, but they knew you couldn't hang with them. They gave you a chance but you said,  "Naw. I'd better not so I don't get busted. But I will cover for you." That kid was the one who likes a little spice in his or her life, but they knew that if they get too hot, all Hell would break loose. It's bet to leave the fire to the to the firemen. Those kids live life like there's no tomorrow and eat their chili until they're red in the face.

As for the kids who sat at the front of the bus next to the driver because their mothe rtold them to? Those are the wussies, punks, chickens and pussies who eat what they call chili mild. In fact, if it doesn't have a spice mix of pakrika, cumin, garlic, cayanne, and oregano which is the basis of all chili mixes, then it's a soup. You can add whatever you want to it and yet you cannot take away from it. To do that and you could be banished to sit next to Fat Funky Floyd the School Bus Driver the moment it starts getting hot. You want it spicey, sit next to that sweaty lout for a good bit.

I'm not gonna lie to you that I had a good friend, a REALLY GOOD FRIEND whom I knew for years and years. One day, my Really Good Friend decided that he was going to make chili and he was a master of the Red and asked if I'd like some. "Sure", I says and really good freind starts to make the chili. First, he brings out the frying pan. RIght there, that sends off a Spider-Signal to my brain that something ain't right.

He then proceeds to brown the ground beef, which is okay. There are times where I don't use hamburger for my chili. There are momnts when I like to get all Dr. Frankenstein and throw in some beef for stew, sausage or even ground turkey, but only if I'm that desperate for chili as I hate ground turkey. Either eat it on a sandwich or Thanksgiving, just leave it out of MY food. If Really Good Friend had only done the ground turkey. No.

Really Good Friend then brings out the King of Chili Mixes, Carroll Shelby's Original Texas Brand Chili Mix.. Now, there are those that have their own speical mix and I can't deny that they have the best mix to dump into the pot. But Craroll Shelby's wa sthe first one to come out that had the mix of spice and as much flavor as you want because you could add as much as you liked it. You wanted to use the cayanne, then use it. If you wanted to go all the way, rip the pack open and let fly. This could only come from a top race driver and the only person who could make a Ford Mustang even cooler than what came off the Detriot assembly line. You would think that Really Good Friend would realize that fact. No, he does not.

He opens up the pack and throws in only half the spice bag. That's it just half the spice bag. No masa flour to thicken it. No cayanne to kick it up a notch. Not even salt to flavor. Just ground beef, tomato sauce and half a frickin' bag of spice It wasn't even "chili" at this point. It was a wack-assed sloppy joe mix. It wasn't even worth putting on three day old weenie at an Alabama truck stop at four in the morning on a drive to Cincinati. It had the taste of nothing It was as bland, as boring, as lifeless and as pathetic as my Really Good Friend. From that slice of time, I never really knew Really Good Friend at all. I haven't spoken to him since that horrible night.

What I have transpired to you today is something that we should all sit down and ponder upon. If you really think about this, then it may explain why the epople you know are the people they are. I mean, this is reallyinteligent stuff I thought about. If your family member refuses to even look at a bottle of hot sauce, what does say about you, huh? That's right, live your life to the fullest! Get a little zing! Put some pop in your popper!

I now air my apartment out and overcome some of the fumes I may have ingested from my crock pot yesterday. Yeah, you think abut a lot when you make chili, boy. Deep stuff.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Do Not Golytly Into The Night

NOTE: The following deals with the medical procedure known as colonoscopy, which is no joke. If you are over fifty and haven't had yours done, then see your doctor soon and set up an appointment. If I have to go through this now, then the rest of you had better get off your collective arses and do it, too. Hey, The Fonz got kids to read. I'm just doing my part.

So the one thing that I'm glad to have as I've mentioned before is time. On Friday, I was able to DJ a wedding reception before I did karaoke. Now I should say that I did the reception at the bar, to which I'd never done before. I also need to add that it was an open bar and bride and groom invited everyone that they knew to the party, giving the word to folks on Tuesday evening of that week, only one day that the groom was released from a stay at the Graybar Lodge for a DUI then got the great idea to get married. Of course the third layer of this wedding cake is that this is his third marriage. I think we call see with a huge spotlight and neon signs pointing out the obvious just how the whole thing turned out.

The cool deal is I got paid, so I'm not complaining. We also have a pool going to see how long relationship is gonna go down. I got six months and seventeen days.  I may as well use some of this guy's money to make more dough off of him.

Now today, after a wonderful day yesterday, including meeting up with my sister Terri, her mom and my two nephews A.J. and Randy, I'm having a a semi-Lazy Sunday. The "semi" meaning that I wil be busy today prepping for a "medical proceedure" on Monday. That's right, people: It's time for the Bi-Annual "Spring Cleaning" Event.

I've just bulldogged my first cold glass of Golytly, which is used to help facilitate the "proceedure" tomorrow for the doctor to do his thing. This will have been the third time that I've gone thru this and for the record, it truly blows. But you have to do what you need to do to get healthy. The part that stinks is that yuo have to guzzle down an entire gallon of crappy liquid and plan your day around going to the loo every few minutes. Thank Jeebus I live alone, otherwise I would have thrown everyone out of the apartment with threats of chaos and mayhem and other foul stuff. Really foul.

I should be okay as the doctor I have has done the same with me for over the past few years. I would guess that makes me faithful to the one man who has seen me at my most upfront and personal, so to speak. I've trusted Dr. Hathaway this far and he's taken care of my needs. I could go on and on with this scenario, but let's not really go there. Let's not get into any fan ficiton here. Although, he did give me flowers at my last follow up.

Kidding.

Well, I need to leave. I have to continue to drink every ten minutes until it's all gone. I cut it with Tang as I always do so I can at least feel as though I get something worthwhile out of the deal. Just remember that whatever happens that I love you all and I shall think of everyone emmensly as I take this trip into darkness. At least I think I changed the lights in the bathroom. I better check to see if the TV reaches into the water closet as well.

Friday, March 27, 2009

It Just Doesn't Matter

Now that I can sit for a good spell to do things important to me, such as breathe, I can now find out what's going on out there in the world. So far I'm gone to all the news sites t o check the day's headlines. We really did elect a Black president, USA Today says!. Wow, I am that far out of the loop.

"Octomom" has fourteen kids? Welcome to my family, America. By the way, the woman's lips look like she was in a disco and got into a fight with Denny Terrio. Yeah, I said it. That's not lipo, that like somebody shoved five piece cotton bedset inside of them.

 I don't think the headlines are what I want see at the moment. None of it matters to me at this point. I'm nmow glad that I can sit for a moment and now plan on how to spend my Sping Break before going back to class.  Looking at apartment right now, A good Swiffer of the flor sounds good. I have the Wet Jet so that way I don't have to sweep and mop. It's kind of like kiling two birds with one stone or just burning your house down so you don't have to clean it. Which I can't do here really because the place has four other families in it and it's made of brick.

The next thing to be done is get together some decent manuscripts for the book After the confidence of my wiritng courses I can sit down now and nitpick over what goes in, what gets edited and what stays out. For that matter, this post won't be going in and that's the truth. I need to get my sea legs back so for the next couple of days this place won't be pretty.

Skeaking of sea legs, I started out at the gym on Wednesday, just a few hours before the Big Test. What I thought would be just be meeting my trainer, Jess and a simple evaluation  of what I need to be working on turned into a full blown mini-workout. I stepped on an elliptical machine for the first time in five years and wound up giving Jess a ten minute rep, going backwards while in street clothes. Just for the record, you all will hear Jess name constantly here at the blog for near future. Although the gym and Jess' help is free thatnks to a health charity, it doesn't mean that I will not be cursing her name high above becasue my calves and thighs burn like a mother father. Oh yeah, I better look good and tone when it's done. "Feel the burn" of deez nuts.

Otherwise at this point, nothing else matters. I'm ready to face the day and get going in an all new mode: Me mode. I'm happy as I've ever been and feel as relaxed and energized to kick out the jams. It's time to step out of my apartment and face the day with the biggest smile I've had in a long time.

Then again, I think I better shave and put some pants on before I leave. I look like shite right now. Yeesh.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

In Our Last Episode...

Our hero, who would be me, had just parted ways with the only true love of his life, Radio, after she turned her back on him. Now with a new found freedom he hasn't felt since shaving his head with menthol shaving cream, he then embarked on a new adventure: Finishing a critial essay for his final writing class and completing his Winter quarter of his Sophomore year in college.

Well, they're all done as of today. I got to school two hours early to finish up any pargraphs I had to straighten out after two previous draft, including updating references. Aftwerwards, I then took my Compostition III final, in which I had two essays to write, long hand. In the e\n\d, I was tired, hungry and needed a Slushie. Yet, I stood my ground and the task was done. I had completed my Winter quarter.

I will tell you this little tidbit that will make you smile. I got to see my final grade for Comp III on Monday and for the record, if there was a letter higher than an A, I would have walked Hell and high water to get to that point if it meant I had to give it all up to graduate. And, I'd do it all over again.

Now excuse me. I need rest as I have a blog to catch up with.

Friday, March 20, 2009

I Am A Quitter

I'm sitting here in one of the classrooms here at South University today posting this with the laptop I use for my karaoke gig. It's nice to just sit back in the peace and quiet and write for me. I'm not surrounded at home by distractions like, say a television. Alhthough, now I will have more time to sit back in my busted recliner and catch up with the daily adventures of Victor Newman. Is that guy even still on the soaps?

At effectively 6:15 P.M. on Wednesday, March 18th, I gave electronic key and the finger to (and let's give it up for) the management at Cumulus Radio. It turns out that after so many years of learning how to maintain a steady workplace, some people didn't stick around for the class about how to communicate with employees. They decided to go to the snack bar for free donuts. Others decided to just eat all the donuts and screw the classes all together.

When you're faced with an economy where unenployment is at an all time low, there can be be some worry at the workplace when a person wonders if his or her job is in jeopardy. Will they be able to take care of their loved ones properly or could they lose it all and face the dark, cold world with nothing but the shirts on their backs and only their pride. Some seem not to care if it's the other guy who loses, so long as they can pay their bills and live the life that they're used to. This, to me feels to be the consperiacy theory that I came up with for the person or persons involved with me quitting.

Then again, what the Hell do I care? I'M FREE! NO MORE RADIO! WHEE!!!

Look, it's been twenty-five years of this. Of the groupies, the free swag, the parties, shaking hands with slimey record reps, getting the shaft from co-workers.

Noticed how it all went from good to bad over time.

I really did have a blast doing the thing I loved so much. I know folks who tried to set out to do the one thing they love only to see them putting it on the shelf so they can handle the bastards out in the real world, which is sush a shame. I got blessed by the age of sixteen to get out of my old man's evil shadow and take the microphone and I never looked back. I went from music format to music format over time and learned how to be the best broadcaster out there, working late nights, weekends, whatever. I went from meeting my college sweetheart to getting gypped into marrying her into finding out she was leaving me. From near death and back, I stuck to radio. And I wouldn't change one damn thing.

I met some incredible people along the way. Good, bad, and just plain ass. It changed the way that I will ever see life. Good times, people. Now, the party's over. Good night, Irene. Turn off the Ramones and power down the tower. It's time to end our broadcast.

As for what will I do now that I'm unemployed? Well, I have a paper that's due to Dr. Stanton in my Composition III class. I have a final to study for Torts and Reforms. I have an appointment to see my trainer at the gym next week for my Cardio so I can lose the weight so I can do a transplant soon. I have a life to live.

I also have a blog to keep up with and friends to hug. Those two things are the ones that I can finally look forward to in these new times.

Goodbye, you dark cloud of a radio company. I wish you success in the future, but I don't think you truly have "magic" I thought you once did back in the day.

Pray that I never get a phone call for what radio station I listen to. XM, just in case you wondered.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

THIS JUST IN....

As of twnety five years of the greatset time in my life I am no longer in radio. This means that I HAVE QUIT. To paraphrase myself "I really do have time and space now". But this time it is worth it.

As soon as I can get to a better PC you will hear my story. Just let me finish this college quarter this week.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Super Villain Bailout

Finals are looming and there's way too much crap going on for me to mention here. Don't believe me, then read last Monday's post (HouseT had the same thought at the same time and posted his version later. He has to be a Skrull. I just know it...). So, I'm gonna post this Funny Or Die clip featuring Mad Men's Jon Hamm as Lex Luthor looking for his own Government bailout. I don't really watch Mad Men, but I have seen Hamm on SNL and 30 Rock and thought he was a great comic actor. But in a bad bald cap, he still funny but not Lex. Maybe he'd be a better Man of Steel instead. Hmmmm...