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.