Smokey Mountain Highs

“Hey, its snowing out there!” As I looked up from my magazine waiting on the Bear to get out of therapy the snow flakes floated to the ground as winds made the flakes dance. The roads had light traffic on them and I didn’t worry about it. The locals were kind of panicked over this weather event. “We don’t git snow very much down here” said the old grey haired gent who leaned on his old wooden cane.

The quaint feeling of Maryville took on a special mood for me that day as I watched the snow fall. The receptionist accused me of bringing the snow with me from New York. I smiled and politely apologized for the snow. I knew it wasn’t me who brought it, but she who sent it. I didn’t tell Bear or Star till way later in the day about what would have been our 24th Wedding Anniversary, they really didn’t seem to hear me anyway. Snow was June’s way to remind me.

I really didn’t need to be reminded. It was on my mind all weekend. I arrived in Tennessee late Friday Night and was at a funeral for a friends Grandfather on Saturday Morning. Skippy is a redneck from a family that has had its share of run ins with the law. Skippy was the first one in his family to actually be a Peace Officer. He led the procession of mourners in his Sheriff’s
Department Vehicle. It was Spring nine years ago I led June’s procession to her grave.

One of Skippy’s grey haired, tobacco growing, shine distilling relatives from upriver said
“I’d never thought I’d see the day one of Zeke’s kin sit in the ‘front seat’ of a Cop car.” It was a day out of a story book, the cool clear spring morning sky broke in deep blue as the sun graced the steamy still mist of the Smokey Mountains floating behind the long green rolling fields and farms as far as the eye could see. As we stood at the graveside of the old landmark 1870’s Methodist Church, that day looked like heaven and felt like 1870’s. I thought of June there too.

But this Monday I drove us back to Bears as snow fell on a dark and gloomy grey day in Eastern Tennessee. Bear was grumpy, sarcastic, miserable and talkative, that is his usual self. Having a Doctor twist his bad shoulder around didn’t help his mood. Star saw how miserable we were when we got to the house. I didn’t want to be miserable, I didn’t want to sit around. So, we drove into the Smokey Mountains, to ‘Cades Cove’ up the river route in the Spring snow.

Bear is in his 50’s heavy set with white hair and classic Scottish features, Star still has a thin frame, dark hair and a nice smile but southern cooking is filling out her butt (no fat but firm). But late 40’s early 50’s has caught up with all of us. As we drove the backwoods river route to the Smokey Mountains and the National Park, Bear talked about the cast of characters in his East Tennessee world. Star filled in the sordid details of these characters.

I was told of the young black stud who was thoroughly gay and hid it poorly, living with a big fat nasty white girl in his two room trailer. I was told of the vicious and invidious beefalow bitch who is divorcing Skippy, but showed up at the funeral and had the nerve to sit with the immediate family (who had nothing nice to say about her). I was informed Clem told Old Moe that the family should have thrown her ass in Marty‘s pig pen right across the road from Church.

Ms. AnnaLee who owns PeachTree Corners and the local bus company built herself a nice place behind the land where Ricky Slim had the big still. Ricky had to sell that land because he couldn’t farm it like he used to, the Internal Revenue and his ex-wife had a hand in the sale too. Its not that far from the river (fresh water for the still). The old barn where he made some 15 year old girl pregnant about 10 years ago is still in use by local boys for the same purpose.

As we drove into the Smokey Mountain National Park, the snow started to stick to the trees and the roads became a little slick. The scenery was awesome, we could have been in Belgium, in the Arden, but it was the Smokey Mountains and the day, in several shades of grey was just inspirational. Even after at least an hour of local gossip, I had June on my mind.

Cades Cove was full of deer, geese, ducks and an occasional black bear. (Road warnings were posted every 3 miles about the bears) After taking pictures, stopping at the Visitors center for some local history and walks around old churches, barns and historical homes in Cades Cove we left for Gatlinburg on a snowy afternoon.

We stopped in a local establishment for food and drinks, a local came by and sat down with us and discussed the Cove, and the hill people. The old geezer saw that my attention was drifting in an out and he asked me what was going on ’in there’? I was polite and told him what this day meant for me, I briefly told him about June.

The old geezer said, “Son, I know it hurts and it won’t get better if you don’t start nothing new. Its an old scab your picking at, its not on you knee or elbow, but your heart. So take my advise boy, leave the scab alone and find God’s strength to carry on.” His hard dark eyes, thin grey hair, pale white skin and medium height did hide the fact the two early thirties black women at the little end of the bar were with him. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

The entertainment that afternoon was a skinny, bearded acoustic guitarist who had to be early twenties. He had a local accent, he had hippie length hair, but when I asked about his boots he said “I was with the 3rd Marines in Iraq”. He played a James Taylor song on his worn acoustic guitar that made my old scars sore. He sang ‘Fire and Rain’, the words and the prayer in that song had me hiding my tears behind sun glasses on a grey and stormy day.

We left Gatlinburg for Pigeon Forge to see a woman with a pink Cadillac. Her home looked modest on the outside, inside was eight rooms and a kitchen from either Emeril or the Iron Chef. Nita practiced Voodoo and wouldn’t say what she could do. She was a friend of Star’s and I felt threatened in her presence, but Nita, a 30ish, bright skinned black woman who was dressed in a bright orange yellow type dashiki about waist high, put me quite at ease. I was apprehensive, I liked it.

“So, why are you here?” Nita, looked at Star, but the question was meant for me. “Passing through and wanted to you to meet my friend RJ. By the way you gonna be at Bracken’s Friday? Star lit a cigarette and looked at Nita inquisitively as she fired up a bowl of ganja. “Yeah, I plan to be there, what about you RJ? Will you be there?” I told her if Star and Bear are there, I will be also. Nita stared in my face, grinned and asked when I arrived in Tennessee.

“Friday Night, Ma‘am”. Nita eyeballed me up and down, she sat with a pipe in a love seat, her legs spread open revealing her soft shaved femininity. I was trembling, because I know God and I was angry that a Vodoo priestess had me feeling like I was her boy bitch. “Sit next to me, Nita demanded.” Her eyes became a little softer as she opened her legs a little wider. I sat down.

Nita looked at me, took my hand and asked me to tell her about myself. I gave her the extreme short story of my life and questioned her about Vedan/Voodoo practices. “My house is fortified against demons and malefic spirits….I have many things in here to keep them out (she had sage throughout her house along with peppermint and other plants - it smelled divine) but it didn’t keep you out,” said Nita. “You see me as a ‘malefic spirit’, Nita.”

“No RJ, its just that you seem to cast a long shadow, your kind of intimidating RJ” said Nita as she leaned into a corner of the love seat, staring into my eyes. “Funny Nita, I thought the same thing about you“. Bear and Star found the way onto the deck that surrounded her home while Nita and I talked some more. It didn’t take long to realize I was being seduced. I won’t get into a lot of detail but it worked. The scents of cilantro, strawberry and mint on Nita linger in my mind.

We eventually got back to Maryville, drank a little and crashed. More adventures about the wonders of East Tennessee will be posted later.

RJ

Implacability & Intransigence

I spend time considering the plight of the American living in America. We are the most taxed people on the planet, also the most sacrificing persons on the planet. The American is the walking definition of altruism and benevolence. But there are times we hear of accounts of those Citizens that make we, the Americans, disavow that anything so retched, vile, weird or screwed up could happen in America. This following is one of those accounts:


By ROXANA HEGEMAN, Associated Press Writer

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

WICHITA, Kan. - Authorities are considering charges in the bizarre case of
a woman who sat on her boyfriend's toilet for two years — so long that her
body was stuck to the seat by the time the boyfriend finally called police.

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the 35-year-old Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat. She initially refused emergency medical services but was finally convinced by responders and her boyfriend that she needed to be checked out at a hospital.

"We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital," Whipple said. "The hospital removed it."

Whipple said investigators planned to present their report Wednesday to the county attorney, who will determine whether any charges should be filed against the woman's 36-year-old boyfriend.

"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body," Whipple said. "It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."

He told investigators he brought his girlfriend food and water, and asked her every day to come out of the bathroom.

"And her reply would be, `Maybe tomorrow,'" Whipple said. "According to him, she did not want to leave the bathroom."

The boyfriend called police on Feb. 27 to report that "there was something wrong with his girlfriend," Whipple said, adding that he never explained why it took him two years to call.

Police found the clothed woman sitting on the toilet, her sweat pants down to her mid-thigh. She was "somewhat disoriented," and her legs looked like they had atrophied, Whipple said.

"She said that she didn't need any help, that she was OK and did not want to leave," he said.

She was reported in fair condition at a hospital in Wichita, about 150 miles southeast of Ness City. Whipple said she has refused to cooperate with medical providers or law enforcement investigators.

Authorities said they did not know if she was mentally or physically disabled.

Police have declined to release the couple's names, but the house where authorities say the incident happened is listed in public records as the residence of Kory McFarren. No one answered his home phone number.

The case has been the buzz of Ness City, said James Ellis, a neighbor.

"I don't think anybody can make any sense out of it," he said.

Ellis said he had known the woman since she was a child but that he had not seen her for at least six years.

He said she had a tough childhood after her mother died at a young age and apparently was usually kept inside the house as she grew up. At one time the woman worked for a long-term care facility, he said, but he did not know what kind of work she did there.

"It really doesn't surprise me," Ellis said. "What surprises me is somebody wasn't called in a bit earlier."

I couldn’t believe this when I heard it,…and then I thought about this. Why ask her to come out of the bathroom even though she wouldn’t? She needed motivation. She needed a reason. Why the hell bring food and water to the toilet? If she couldn’t get to the kitchen why didn’t somebody put her dysfunctional sphincter in an ambulance? Crowbars, Housetools, and Psychologists…with all three someone can dislodge an ass from a toilet and a head from an ass.

St. Patricks Day at the Corner Tavern

The Corner Tavern is located at 1762 Broadway in Hewlett, New York at the Corner of Broadway and Stuart just before CVS.

For any questions about St. Patricks Day at the Corner Tavern call 516-599-9867

KARAOKE'S 5000 REASONS

DO YOU WANT $5000.00 DOLLARS?

(WELL DO YA!)

UPDATE!!!

PLEASE spread the word...Are you, or do you know, a local singer/performer? $5,000 and a recording session are some of the prizes up for grabs with The National Karaoke Idol Contest being held at Backstage Nite Club/Sports Lounge (948 Broadway, Woodmere, NY, 11598) on Wednesdays.

Qualifying rounds (with prizes) are every Wednesday, starting at 9PM, through April 2. This is a serious contest with judges (the audience does NOT vote).

Each Wednesday night winner qualifies for the semi-final rounds, and then the regional finalist and a guest will be flown (air and hotel expenses paid) to Orlando, Florida to compete in the nationals. Non-contestants also may sing (there is one "contestant only" round).

Semi-finalists do not have to attend every Wednesday and will be notified of the semi-final round date. There is NO ENTRY FEE and no door charge/minimum. Prices at Backstage (which is 3 blocks from the Woodmere L.I.R.R. train station and next door to Woodmere Lanes) are very reasonable and there is food available as well as several flat screen TVs, two pool tables, an air hockey table and dart boards.

It is a very large place with a big dance floor, stage and excellent sound system. The weekly contest semi-finalist winner is announced around 11:30PM and the regular Karaoke Dance Party ends at 1AM (singing and dancing not required, but highly recommended!!)

Thanks and good luck!P.S.: Contestants must be 18 years or older, and will be judged on their vocal ability, showmanship and song delivery. There is no fee to enter. The top prize is $5,000 plus a recording deal with an independent record label. In addition, two local winners and all regional winners will receive cash prizes.

YEAH! $5000.00 U.S. DOLLARS

I spoke to Gary Morris, one of the Hosts of the Karaoke Dance Party and he told me that the The National Karaoke Idol Contest is offering a $5000.00 prize to the winner of the Karaoke singing contest that is being sponsored. The date of the contest(s) is every Wednesday at BackStage Night Club. For more details show up at BackStage Night Club and find out.

For more details call 516-374-9870

Sing like you wanna get paid.

Implied Descent

Saturday Night I went to visit my Uncle in a Nursing Home in East Rockaway. He was responsive, he was fighting for his life. A broken neck necessitated a feeding tube. He is down but he is still fighting. He smiled when he saw me and called my name, this made me real glad as I sat down and talked to him, he has Alzheimer’s disease. I spoke to the nurse who said he is told to stay still to heal, but he finds a way to move and do what he wants.

I left there kinda choked up, a WWII veteran of the Battle of Okinawa, my hero was hanging in despite his life threatening injury, the spirit in him typical of all the men in my family – that is hard heads, big hearts. I went to the Ancient Dive, I figured even its loud Saturday Night crowd would give me a reason to laugh or shake my head realizing I don’t have it that bad.

When I walked in it was near empty and quiet, it stayed that way. Chucky and the Met Fan were in the dive and Gin was behind the bar. I asked, “what is going on”. Chucky, M.F. and me talked politics for a while and I wished M.F. a happy birthday, then passed on a message from a high school sweetheart who is thoroughly pissed at him for not calling her.

As the crowd whittled down to me and one other regular as Chucky left, I asked Gin what the hell happened to the dive. The place looked more run down than usual and Gin looked totally unhappy. I offered to buy her a tap beer and she said “I wouldn’t drink a damn thing from those taps.” I had hold of my bottle of Bud (the only beer in the bar) and asked her if she wanted anything else. She declined.

“How long has Saturday’s been like this Gin?” “It’s been going down for a while, I’ve been hanging out at Bronkos on Tuesday Nights and I go to other bars when I’m not working. This place has a real negative reputation and is known as a lesbian bar and rough place.” “Wow, by the way how often do the lesbians come in Gin?” “They don’t. They haven’t been in the dive in weeks.” I thought this used to be a neighborhood bar. This used to be a good place to be.

M.F. said, “No wonder people look at me strange when I tell them I hang out here.” I thought to myself the ugly rumors I’ve heard from so called “Church folks” about me from my brother in law now make sense, its my association with this place, what was once a good neighborhood bar. I asked Gin what would make someone think that this is just a lesbian bar even though no lesbians come here anymore.

Gin pointed to the neon lit bottle in the window with the “rainbow” around it. Gin said, “anything with a rainbow as a poster or sign in front of a bar means its open to gays.” Gin’s man showed up as she was making this point. Gin continued, “everybody thinks anyone, man or woman who comes in here is a queer.” M.F. put down his bottle, paid his tab, left a tip and got the hell out. I asked Gin why is she so upset.

Gin took at least half dozen bottles from behind the bar and put them in front of me, they were all empty, she then put the bottles back. I felt bad when I came in, I felt worse when I left. When someone or something we love is facing its demise we try hard to do all we can to support them or it, we attempt to buffet ourselves emotionally for the inevitable, this too is futile. The decent will end in demise and in some way openly or otherwise we will grieve.

RJ