Southern Exposure

Elvis has left the building, and entered the county

2007-03-17T17:56:00.000-07:00

Elvis stood behind me yesterday. We were queued up at the Dollar General: I was buying cheap detergent, he a can of cleanser. He was in lightweight Hawaiian-style mufti since the weather was practicing for the Spring equinox next week; he saves the white jumpsuit for more formal--and cooler--occasions.

I see him throughout the county. He and his wife work for the Meals on Wheels, delivering dinners to the elderly and shut-ins. Husband chatters to him when our paths cross (Husband schmoozes everybody). Elvis beams when you treat him as the Real Deal, almost wriggling like a puppy dog, combing his fingers through the black-black wig (the sideburns are real).

I wonder what drives him to impersonate a dead man. Is it a case of overwrought hero worship? Or is his own little life so terrible that he wants to be someone else? Rich instead of poor, famous instead of insignificant?

He bundled his purchase under his arm, shuffled to his faded brown Ford, and drove off. Perhaps his car was a white limo in his mind.

Thank you, thank you very much.

Snow day

2007-01-31T19:47:00.000-08:00

You can always tell when the weather is "going south" in Arkansas: everyone crams into the grocery store to stock up. Flurries were falling when I visited the IGA because I needed tortillas. Only tortillas.

Everyone else needed at least a weeks worth. The checkout lines snaked around the chips, soap and vegetable aisles. Can't be too prepared.

Husband and I had work to do at Booneville. We were herded up the backroads at Booneville hill off of Hwy 22, only to meet the nervous sheriff, and everyone else that didn't get detoured, on the hill proper. Snow waivered between 2" to none--including a stint of rain (!) at one point, on our circuit of Logan County.

I grew up in the mountains of Colorado. I know snow. But flatlander Southerners terrify me, since they have no idea of how to drive. We met some scary folks. I'm happy I'm home.

Day Late and a Dollar Short

2007-01-23T08:31:00.000-08:00

I, for one, was happy to kiss 2006 goodbye. It was a miserable year, full of lightning-blasted appliances, new unwanted neighbors, overwork, and underpay--very lean, very unhappy.

So I'm surprised to see the last time I posted was in November. I realize now I put in a lot of hours on the job in November and December, but at least the cash was coming in a little bit, even if I was too tired to do anything but the most basic computer work--ie, checking emails. Not out of the woods yet, but life is improving slowly, and might be worth living again.

Entertainment will still be limited to free stuff, such as the Storm Spotter Training, with the (I hope) exception of AFI at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa. I was far too poor to buy tickets when they were reasonable, and now they're sold out, available only from exorbitant ticket brokers. But I soo want to go, and time is running short.

The Spotter training is open to all, mostly service professionals like police and fire fighters. But they tolerate interested amateurs like myself, and my friend Wayne. I finally got to attend a session last year, and received my little certificate. I was so proud.

The truth about cats and dogs

2006-11-18T17:15:00.000-08:00

Paris has a cat-lady and a dog-lady. I can understand this because I travel with a sack of cheap catfood in case we encounter any strays. I can't stand to see starving animals. But...

The cat-lady is an old woman who lives on the south side of town. She shuffles up and down the streets with a bag of MeowMix, clad in housecoat and fuzzy slippers. The cats in the neighborhood pace alongside her, tails waving in the air as they anticipate the offerings to be placed near where they live.

Dog-lady lives on the northside, in a dreadful little stucco surrounded by pens filled with dogs. She's a different sort, college graduate--indeed, rumored to have a high IQ, but seemingly beyond reason, or basic manners. She buys incredible things to feed "her" dogs, like grocery-carts full of weiners, or the best dogfood possible: Eukanuba, anyone? She wears the same clothes for days on end, sweats caked with mud and filth from where-ever. And in the summer she frequently goes nude.

But the dogs eat well. And so do the cats.

Relativity reducer ray

2006-11-11T07:38:00.000-08:00

Husband is watching an old Superman serial on TV, the kind he used to watch at the theater when he was a child. (Well, I did too, but not as much) Summer matinees featured at least two films, cartoons, a newsreel, and an episode or two of a serial. Little did we kids know it was just glorified babysitting.

He and I were laughing at the dialog, and perfect hats Clark and Lois sported, regardless of how much they'd just been through. Still, it beats the gore and mess of the present cinematography.
Kill Bill, anyone? Brrr.

Eureka!

2006-09-04T11:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I found the old blog, neglected and rather moss-covered. So I've embarked on overhauling it, slapping on a fresh coat of paint, and revving it up again with a new mission: food.

It's a favorite subject of mine. I like to cook, I like to eat. And "El Gatito Gordo" will be where I talk about it.

Take Two

2006-09-02T07:59:00.000-07:00

I did this once before.

But I lost it. Or the password. Or the email. Or whatever.

So with September comes a new start--cooler weather prompts productivity.

Come in and set a spell!