Take a whiff of Sista Smiff and you'll come back for more, that's fo sho!

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

What'd Life Be Without Homegrown Tomatoes?


It's officially spring for me when I get petunias. I absolutely love petunias...the colors, the smell. I don't claim a green thumb, but, I can grow some nice petunias at my house.

Somebody told me years ago the secret to good petunias is keeping them pinched back. I'm so obsessive about pinching back petunias, I find myself in public places, where they may not be so well tended like on Church St. in Downtown Nashville or at the YMCA where we swim every summer, pinching them back if they need it. People probably think I'm nuts.

Impatiens are another good flower that are as tough as they come. They like shade and lots of water. I've had years where I've had impatiens near about as tall as my youngest son. The dogs like the impatien garden too. Last year, they made it one of their favorite laying spots in the yard. Needless to say, my impatiens last year weren't that tall or quite as pretty as I've had them in years past.


Mr. Smiff thinks it's silly for me to bother planting anything in the ground because the dogs go right to it and either step on them, lay on them or dig them up, just for kicks. Even so, I feel the need to plant something every spring. It's kinda like what Ouiser said in "Steel Magnolias". She planted tomatoes every year because she was an "old, Southern woman" and we just feel the need to plant stuff every year.

One thing I will not be planting this year is tomatoes. We claim to love homegrown tomatoes at our house, but, they sit in the window sill til they rot and the gnats become a problem. We'll just get our Homegrowns this year from my brother in law's garden or Farmer's Market.

Guy Clark was so right when he said that the only two things that money can't buy are true love and homegrown tomaters. Well, you can buy them, but, there is something special about picking them out of your yard, bringing it in and making a tomato sandwich on white, Wonder bread and Hellman's mayonnaise.

On second thought, I think I will plant me a tomato plant or two.

Monday, April 17, 2006

I Could Write a Sonnet About Your Easter Bonnet....


It is with much glee and happiness that I can report, today, April 17, the day after Easter, 4 months after Christmas, green leaves on the trees.....

Mr. Smiff has taken down the Christmas/Valentines/St. Patrick's Day/Easter Lights.

I am a redneck woman, no more. No, it's back to the classy, uptown gal that I once was.

Don't EVER Say This To Me Again

Finally had a chance to talk with both of our next door neighbors about exactly how close the Big Tornado came to our house last Friday. (We're THIS close with them) I knew it came close but now just how close that sucker came to the house.

The lady to our right looked out the back window and her first thought was "What kind of birds are those?" Those birds turned out to be flying debris. Next door to the left, who is also chained to an oxygen tank saw it coming about 100 yards away, filled his tank and took cover in the tub.

Mr. Smiff is fond of saying to me, whenever tornado warnings are issued for the area, mocking the weather people, "The tornado is headed down the Vietnam Veterans Bypass, down [insert street name] for Sista Smiff!" I told him he better not EVER say that to me again because that thing just about did. His reply? "Well, the odds are against you now." I suppose that's probably true that the odds are quite slim that we'll have another tornado of that magnitude come through here for awhile.....hopefully.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Not Here


Early on Sunday morning, as the new day was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went out to see the tomb. Suddenly, there was a great earthquake, because an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and rolled aside the stone and sat on it. His face shone like lightning, and his clothes as white as snow. The guards shook with fear when they saw him, and they fell into a dead faint.

Then the angel spoke the women. "Don't be afraid!" he said, "I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He isn't here! He has been raised from the dead, just as he said would happen. Come, see where his body was lying. And now, go quickly and tell his disciples he has been raised from the dead, and he is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there. Remember, I have told you.

The women ran quickly from the tomb. They were very frightened but also filled with great joy, and they rushed to find the disciples to give them the angel's message. And as they went, Jesus met them. "Greetings!" he said. And they ran to him, held his feet and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Don't be afraid! Go tell my brothers to leave for Galilee, and they will see me there."
Matthew 28:1-10 NLT

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Big Bad Bill

Bill Hobbs, Bill Hobbs.....that's all I've been seeing on Nashville Is Talking the last few days. I even saw hiw picture on the news but I guess my attention deficit hasn't brought me to the point where I can actually listen and find out who in the Bad, Bad, Ivy he is.

Best I can gather, nobody much likes him so I suppose I am not missing much. He must be a political somebody or another and Sista doesn't play politics.

Friday, April 14, 2006

In Praise of Hendersonville

Boy, the people of Hendersonville are out in full force this beautiful Good Friday helping with tornado cleanup. One of the good things to see, through all of the difficult days of the past week, has been how everybody, in their own way, is helping out. I guess our city is doing what any other city/town would do, but, I'm proud to be a Hendersonvillian today.

A petition is circulating to try to get the Hawkins Family (the family where the young mother is paralyzed from the waist down after shielding her little boys from falling debris) on "Extreme Home Makeover." I can't think of any family more deserving of this than Jarrod and Amy Hawkins. So, Channel 2 News people, if you have any contacts with ABC, maybe ya'll can make a phone call.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Sista Smiff's Brag Book



My sister was none too happy that I had posted a rather unflattering photo of her on da blog earlier today. She emailed me and said "Are you ever going to post a flattering picture of me on your blog?" So, here ya go...as you can see, she is quite lovely as is her whole family. They aren't as pretty as, say, this family, but, then, who is?

Hippity Hoppity, Easter's On It's Way


Today is Maundy Thursday, tomorrow is Good Friday, Saturday is...well, Easter Egg Dyeing day (one of those things that we just do) and that means the day after that is Easter Sunday. Holy Peter Cottontail...what'm I gonna wear to church Sunday???

Being that I'm a good Southern Baptist Girl, there is an unwritten rule somewhere in the Baptist Faith and Message that "women must buy new Easter frocks every Easter, whether Easter falls in March or April."

We've been doing this for years. Look at that picture..Easter 1979.....My sister is the one with the rather, um, BIG hair and the shoes were by Yo-Yo (remember those?!?) She and I had a similar color scheme happening and I see I'm sporting my supposed "Dorothy Hamill" haircut. (It never did look like no Dorothy Hamill!) It seems to me that this was the first time I wore pantyhose. The other accessory I have there is our poodle, Jolie (who lived another 12 years after this).

My mother, as always, in her basic black, to create a "slimming" effect.

The best part is Dad's white suit (had to have been polyester) and apparently, he had stolen Pat Boone's shoes and as he always did, anytime he had his picture taken, he'd turn his head for the profile. Musta been his best side.

Perks and Coifs

Mr. Smiff and band played a rather uppity soiree at Chancellor Gee's house Tuesday night. Sounds like a swinging party, replete with booze, good eats and a special guest appearance by Shawn Camp with the guys on "I'll Go Stepping Too" that I hear was rather "interesting." The gathering was to honor all the artists who had played at the Kennedy Center Country Music Festival.

It dawned on me the next day when my sister asked why I didn't go to the above mentioned event. Yeah! I don't recollect anybody saying I could go and because I'm a nice girl, I didn't invite myself. I asked Mr. Smiff about it and he said I could've gone had I asked. ??????????

Ok, so they aren't huge stars, but, dangit, I'm ready for some perks of being a "wife." I've been a musicians wife for almost 17 years and I'm waiting for the perks to begin. Am I out of line to think maybe I should get some sort of little extry excitement from my rather mundane, matronly sort of existence of going to work every morning, wrangling my three kids? (Mr. Smiff reads this sometimes so I have to insert here that I'm just thinking out loud, honey...not trying to make you look like a bad husband.) I mean, they're gone a lot, just about every weekend and to be able to go to a swanky, outdoor doing in Belle Meade would be rather fun..maybe?

If I'm not worth a glass of wine on Chancellor Gee's lawn, then I AM worth a hairdo and color. So I went to the SA-lon yesterday evening and had the wonderful Samantha work my coif. I know you're wondering what a dumpy, matronly thing like me is doing going to a place like SalonFX. I mean, the hippest of the hip and beautiful go there and I certainly don't blend in. I certainly can't afford it but I go cause I feel good when I leave. Samantha made me look almost purty.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Lunchtime in Knoxville

My sister tends to provide me with some great blogaterial. I think today's beats 'em all.


"What is it about me that makes people do this to me.
I went to Stein Mart at lunch and made a new friend. I was in the BBW Dept (Big Beautiful Women) and I made a new friend. This little old lady – probably in her 70s. Didn’t look like she had brushed her hair in a week. Wearing slippers. Anyway, I’m looking at a rack of clothes and she gets up next to me and says (I was looking at a pretty shirt with long, flowy-like sleeves) "When you’re big through the middle like you, you shouldn’t wear shirts with sleeves with that much material – draws attention to your middle". She then goes on to explain why she likes to wear long shirts because it covers her stomach – and yes, she feels the need to lift her shirt and grab with both hands her belly flab.
She follows me around for about 10 minutes, commenting on what I’m looking at – pretty color, too busy – makes you look wide, sequins look cheap, etc. Then she said "You know, it takes work to look nice when you’re big, don’t you think?" Im just about to die, wishing someone had been there to witness this – you would have wet yourself.
Then I take my items and think I can escape her in the fitting room. But she has a shirt that she says "would go with my horsie scarves I got in Lexington. I paid a fortune for them. Do you think my horsie scarves would go with this shirt?" I’m just trying to get away from her. So she goes to the fitting room attendant and says "I want to try this shirt on but I don’t have time, I have a friend in the car" HUH???? If she had an old lady friend in the car, the last 15 minutes she spent with me didn’t bother her.
I was about to die! "


Usually, my sister is mistaken for Rosie O'Donnell ("You look just like Rosie McDonald!") or hit on by lesbians. She is coming along in this world.

A One and A Two

I usually take morning and afternoon break with about 7-8 others, both men and women, who work at the same company I work at. Most of us don't work in the same area, but, somehow, we manage to get together every morning at 9:30 and then in the afternoon at 2:30. As you can imagine, we cover a lot of ground in our little discussions and manage to solve the worlds' problems from our table. It's usually the same bunch: Kenny, Tim, Larry, Cindy, George, Melinda, Scott, me and sometimes one or two others grace us.

This morning's discussion floored me. Kenny told something so shocking, I kept accusing him of making it up. He swears it's the truth.

How we got on this topic, I do not remember, but, in the course of the chit chat, Kenny said that when you build a house, it is important that you put pieces of tin around the holes in your vents because construction people tend to relieve themselves on the duct work. He also shared that construction people will (I don't know any other subtle way to say it) sometimes take dumps down chimneys!!!

Please tell me this is not true and Kenny was just messing with us. He has done electrical contract work and swears this really happens.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Johnson's Old Grey Mule

This is a fun clip of mindless, clean fun courtesy of June Carter and Gordon Terry.

Gordon was a great musician and entertainer who worked with people like Johnny Cash, Bill Monroe, Merle Haggard and others. Gordon passed away this weekend after being sick for many years.

One of his credits is that he helped discover Barbara Mandrell. Depending on your perspective, we can either thank him for that or blame him.

Birthin' Babies





Seeing Jeff Ray's new baby and his precious little family and how stinkin' good Mrs. Ray looks got me to reminiscing about how I looked immediately following the births of my younguns.

Funny thing... I dont/won't show a picture of me after #1. (Think Roseanne Barr) Instead, I'll show a picture of Mr. Smiff immediately following the birth of #1. He kinda has the deer in the headlights look and oh...nice mullet too!

The second time around, I had my dawling dawta and I don't look exactly like I'm ready for a black tie affair here, but, not too bad. I felt better after she was born cause she was the easiest of the three. 2 pushes and there she was.

Now the one where I'm not facing the camera, the hair held up just lovely and you can't really tell the ordeal I had just been through. The doctor that delivered #2 Son was nicknamed Doogie Howser by me (and it turned out, the entire nursing staff of Centennial. Here I thought I was being original). Doogie Howser wouldn't let me have my epidural for a long time. By the time I got it, I was in mucho pain and they couldn't get it in. They were hitting nerves and all sorts of things. I finally told them to get thee away from me, I would birth drug-less.

What I DIDN'T know was that I was carrying a 9 lb 7 1/2 oz, 22 inch long baby. Look at the size of that head of his.

As Melanie said in "Gone WIth The Wind", the happiest days are when babies come. I'm just glad I won't be bringing anymore.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Tales From The Twister


Coming back to work today, hearing even more stories of survival and loss:

A guy in my company lost his home and almost lost his wife. She was home sick Friday and was sucked out of the house. Amazingly, she just had a bump on the head.

The guidance counselor at Knox Doss Middle School, David Delph, who spent Friday afternoon and way into the evening, comforting and entertaining the likes of my children, making them feel safe and secure, went home to find his home is not liveable.

Another co-worker's aunt's home was destroyed on Drakes Creek Rd. They say lightening doesn't strike twice but for this family it did. Some years back, their home was struck by lightening and burned to the ground. They rebuilt on the same spot, a nice brick home, only to have it destroyed Friday.

My friend Diana and her husband Bill were sitting in their Florida room on Drakes Creek Rd. just before the storm came. They managed to get to the bottom level, not injured. They were at church yesterday and just hung onto each other the entire service.

We know about William Lee Golden from the Oak Ridge Boys' beautiful old home on Saundersville being destroyed but his bandmate, Duane Allen, barely escaped becoming part of the debris himself. He had gone to get his grandson from school and was arriving home just as it hit his neighborhood.

The photo is by Zach Delph, taken in his neighborhood off of 109 in Gallatin.

Happy Dancing

I am just about to ingest my last Augmentin tablet, from my Strep Adventure of last week. As my friend Lois the pharmacist says....it's diarrhea in a bottle and I'm quite glad to be bidding it adieu.

I've never really appreciated Diflucan until this last week or so and am quite grateful for it.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Not Your Typical Saturday

I got a phone call this afternoon from #2's teacher. She was calling every student to make sure all was well and everyone intact. Unfortunately, not everyone in his class got through yesterday as easy as we did. Two children are without homes. A lady that I sing in the church choir with lost her home. I guess she lives about a mile from me.

I feel almost guilty that our biggest inconvenience was going a little over 24 hours without the internet or cable when lots of people close by are trying to figure out what to do next. People all over our city and county doing the same thing Diana and Bill did today; salvaging what they could, packing it into a quickly rented truck...some facing planning funerals.

I slept til 9:00, had my coffee, took my daughter to a friend's house, went to choir practice and to Wal Mart.

Yeah, I feel guilty.

Tornado Warning

I will tell the whole tale of the day later...we have no internet at home still and my nerves have still not settled down.

Bottom line...tornado came by the Smiff House. Thank goodness we have no damage. It moved on up the road apiece and touched down right by Knox Doss Middle School, where the older two kids go. #1 Son heard it but didn't see it since they corralled all the kids in bathrooms and the other "safe places." The area around the school, from what I hear is trashed. William Lee Golden (Oak Ridge Boys long, bearded guy) lives about 1/4 mile from the middle school and his gorgeous home is destroyed as are a bunch of others close by. Some of my kids classmates are homeless.

I never was able to get the kids from school and thank goodness Tammy and Lisa (mom's of the kids friends) took them home with them. I was sitting in the line of traffic to Gallatin. (Knox Doss and Station Camp schools are technically in Gallatin). #2 Son was finally picked up about 6:15 and he seemed pretty oblivious to the days events. Like it's not unusual to still be at school until 6. I asked him what they did all that time and he said they watched a movie but he got in trouble for bugging some kid and had to go to the office. That's my boy.

Got home at 8 and just as I pulled in, the power came on. Mr. Smiff is on the road and missed the whole ordeal.

I still can't bear the thought of the "what ifs" of yesterday...a few hundred yards more and Knox Doss and Station Camp could've had a direct hit. Scary stuff.

I'll tell more later. I need a drink.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Poof

Had a slight wind over Hendersonville today. My house is standing. Kids arent home from school yet. Hail hitting my window downtown right now.

Better git away.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Retrospective Brentwood



Reading Tony's blog today got me all nostalgic. I know it doesn't take a whole lot to get me in that frame of mind. I'm as sappy and cheesy as the day is long. I already got nostalgic this week remembering my grandfather on the 111th anniversary of his birth, but, thanks to Tony, I'm going to get nostalgic about where I grew up.

I was not born on Tennessee soil. I was born a couple thousand miles from Nashville in Long Beach, California, where my dad was a succesful radio disc jockey and my mother's family had moved to from Alexandria, Louisiana when she was a young girl. As I wrote earlier this week, my southern roots are deep, deep. I've always been grateful that my dad saw fit to move us to Tennessee when I was about 8 months old. He would've certainly continued with more lucrative and financial success had they stayed out there and I'd have been a happy California Girl, but, I'm glad it didn't work out that way. I'm a Tennessee girl to the bone (not to be confused with redneck) and am all about my rich southern heritage. I'm sure had my folks stayed in Southern California, I'd have loved that and felt as attached to the beaches of the Pacific as I do to the green, rolling hills that surround this beautiful area that I call home.

We hit the less than happening metropolis of Brentwood in the fall of 1969. My poor mother was miserable when we first moved here. After growing up in Southern California in the 40's and 50's, going to Disneyland the first day it was open, celebrating Senior Skip Day at Catalina Island, spending countless hours at the beach, having great shopping and a million things to choose from to do, the pickens for fun and entertainment were pretty slim in Brentwood, and Nashville too, in those days.

Those relatively new to the Nashville area who bask in the glow of Cool Springs and the splendiforous shopping should be grateful. Back then, Cool Springs was a the Southwestern Bible company and it's big, blue ball. (No pun intended. It really was a big, blue ball. Resembled a water tower, which may be what it was) The only mall was 100 Oaks (I could do a whole post on that), to go to McDonald's, we had to go all the way to Melrose; the only grocery store was Huff's Food Town, owned by the saintly Glenn Huff. (I could also do a whole post on Mr. Huff and his establishment, where I later worked and learned the art of Customer Service). Kroger did not come til about 1974; there was Carriage House Cleaners (still there last time I was there) with it's little basket of Super Bubble bubblegum, Little's Shell, which sat on the corner of Franklin Rd and Old Hickory Blvd, Pewitt Brothers Exxon, Barbara's House of Beauty; a big treat for kids was a trip to Baskin Robbins; if you needed a new pair of shoes, you went to The Shoebox, owned and operated by the Morrison's, and all the kids climbed up this little ladder and sat on this cool, treehouse looking thing to get fitted for your Red Goose Shoes; if you wanted pizza, it was the Red Geranium; if you needed a prescription filled, you went to Lee's Apothecary; if you wanted a convenience store, there was the Jim Dandy market down on Franklin Rd. just before you get to Concord Rd; Minnie Pearl had a chicken place; there were two liquor stores; the only sit down restaurant was Noble's and the only motel was the Traveler's Rest (I always thought that was THE Traveler's Rest, as in the Overton's place) Mr. Toadvine's hardware store was on the corner of Church St. and Wilson Pike Circle; Harpeth National Bank (later First Tennessee) with Janis Foster, your friendly neighborhood teller, who knew everybody that resided in town and all their secrets;

We played softball and baseball at Civitan Park, behind Lipscomb School. If you were lucky enough, you'd get to take a trip to "Flatrock", behind the baseball fields and make out. (Sadly, I never had that experience.) In the summer, we swam at the Dolphin Club (some went to Crockett Springs and later, Maryland Farms Country Club and a few to Brentwood Country Club. The Dolphin Club was where it was at though. The Reyes Kids ruled the diving team and you could suntan on the roof of the clubhouse. It wasnt until the early 80's that we had a skating rink and movie theater and who can forget the first fast food place in Brentwood....Delites. They claimed to be "healthy" because at that time, the city of Brentwood would not allow fast food joints in the city limits.

There was one elementary school, Lipscomb, (principaled in love by Jesse Frank and we were fed meals from scratch by Mrs. Reed) until 1977 when Scales was built. One junior high, then known as Northside Jr. High (Go Vikings), now Brentwood Middle, with the charming and charistmatic Bob Hardison (aka "Blow Job Bob" we lovingly called him) as principal. Brentwood High did not come along until 1983. Before then, everybody went to Franklin. Most of us were either Baptist, Methodist or Church of Christ. If you were of the Catholic faith, again, you had to go to Franklin to church.

Our neighborhood, Hallbrook, was the best. There were bigger neighborhoods-Carondelet and Brenthaven, namely, but Hallbrook could boast residents who later became household names in the state of Tennessee and beyond...Marsha Blackburn and some lawyer named Fred Thompson. We knew just about every household in the neighborhood: The McNamee's, The Kurek's, The Elliott's, The Comer's, The Dukes', every household, I could tell you who lived there. In this little slice of heaven, we even had a drug bust in one house and a mafia bust in another. (Believe me, those were exciting days! Better than a tv show)

We also had the beautiful WSM tower shadowing us. That tower appears in I don't know how many photographs and was just part of the landscape. That tower was almost like a neighbor and it also connected me to the Grand Ole Opry and WSM radio which I love dearly. To this day, a drive down I-65 and the first sight of her brings a lump in my throat. In the picture, which is an unusual view from the tower, my house is the white one kinda to the left, under the photographer's name...Concord Rd. Church of Christ, where I attended kindergarten, is to the right.

Yeah, Brentwood has everything now in terms of commerce and business, but, man....it was almost a little like Mayberry with most people knowing each other or of each other. We didn't have an official town drunk, but, I guess "Shufflin' Ed" would be the closest thing. He'd make his daily trek from Hardscuffle (now Church St) to the bank everyday. You could set your clock by it.

Brentwood is still indeed a nice place to live, however, I can't help but feel like those of us who lived there in the 70's were the really lucky ones. No, it was not that culturally diverse but it was the perfect community, in terms of being a loving and caring environment. That's what makes a community anyway is the individuals; not the prestige of the zip code or the designer labels at the shopping mall. It's the Glenn Huff's, the Hallbrooks, the Lipscomb Schools and Dolphin Clubs of this world that are signifigant.

Nothing Stops the US Mail?

A couple months ago, Mr. Smiff was waiting on his weekly paycheck to come in. It usually comes in on the same day every week, but, this particular week, it didn't show. He called the Check Lady and she had sent it, still it never showed. In one sense, we didn't think anything of it since it's not unusual for something sent through mail to take days to get across town. In the other sense though, being we are not independently wealthy folk with no large inheritances to fall behind on and we haven't won the Powerball (yet), we needs our paychecks.

So Mr. Smiff made other arrangements and got his pay, all was well, the Wolf ran away, for the time being.

Last night, I had choir rehearsal for our Easter program coming up this Sunday and my friend/neighbor/Sista in Christ/Detective Becky mouths to me that she has something for me. I couldn't imagine what she would have for me but I got to thinking of possible scenarios in this "something" she had for me:

Maybe she had some cool shoes she had gotten and decided they were too small/big for her and did I want them?
A gift card to Best Buy for $10,000??
George Clooney called her and asked if she knew how to reach me?
A Tiffany Lamp?
A plane ticket to Maui?
Maybe she had uncovered bazillions of dollars either in her backyard or in her police work and the Lord had laid on her heart to share the love with her friend/neighbor/Sista Smiff?

Unfortunately, none of the above, however, it was something that was found near her yard.

Seems Detective Becky had gotten a knock on her door the other night at 11:00. Scared the you-know-what out of her, which surprised me because she's a cop and packs a heater. Her next door neighbor had found a piece of mail stuck in the fence and thought it might be hers (our street numbers are one digit off of each others). She saw the name on it and knew it belonged to her neighbors, the Smiffs.

Guess what it was.

If you guessed Mr. Smiff's check dated February 12, you win!

How in the world did it get there and how had it survived, in pretty good shape, all this time? We've had rain since then, snow, wind...One theory is that #2 Son, who loves to get the mail, might've dropped it...it could've dropped out of the mail truck and flown over to Becky's. I dunno.

Rain, snow, sleet and hail may not stop the US Mail, but the mail carriers sure can interfere with an important piece of mail getting to the right place on time.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

No Pinewood Derby!!!!!


We are bad parents. That's all there is to it. Someday, #2 Son will probably haul us onto Dr. Phil so he can tell us how despicable we were in his upbringing.

Our church has a big Pinewood Derby sort of car race every year. It's such a boy thing. I don't know how racing cars teaches the young lads about the Lord, but, hey, it's fun and boys dig it. #1 Son participated in the same activity when he was a little feller. Mr. Smiff detests making the car. They give you the body of the car, the wheels and such but you have to sand it down and put it all together yourself.

Apparently, there is some secret to getting the car at just the right weight to have a winning car. Mr. Smiff has a bit of a competitive nature in him and the times #1 raced, he was furious because he didn't win or place. So, when we brought the car home about a month ago, we put off telling Mr. Smiff that it was coming up race time. We knew he'd be overjoyed.

So, we had about a month to prepare. Mr. Smiff has been burning up the road lately and he's not really famous for a git r done kind of philosophy and the day of the Big Race (today) sorta, well, crept up on us. Being I was sick with strep this last weekend, I honestly forgot about it. I didn't think about it until yesterday and #2 had also forgotten about it and has not mentioned it. Good. So, what can we do to keep him from total and utter devastation when he remembers.

#2 has been wanting to see "Ice Age 2" and talking about that the last couple weeks. Brilliant! Mr. Smiff can take him to see the movie during the time of the race. #2 even asked to speak to me while I was driving home, he was so excited about going to see the movie. "Can you come?!?!?!?" I have a long choir practice tonight to prepare for our Easter musical we're doing Sunday so I am skipping the movie but felt such guilt when I got home and they were about to leave he really wants me to come with them.

So, they're at the movie and I feel like Mommie Dearest. Bad Mommie Dearest. I forget about his car and don't go see the movie with him.

Wondering how long it's going to take #2 to realize he missed the race and bracing myself for the fallout.

Angels Sent Straight From Heaven


Fun night for my sister, the Deacon's Wife, last night. Her two children were full of quotes and questions for her.

Her nine year old son inquired as to what a "virgin" was. That's not really too far out. Pretty normal question for a kid that age, but, I do believe it caught her by surprise. I wish I could've heard her answer. This is the same kid who not long ago, tried his hand at writing.

That was soon followed up with the announcement from her soon to be 4 year old daughter that she would like a new dog and would like its name to be "Ass."

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

A Rainbow After The Rain

I was a little depressed about the state of prime time, network television tonight. This was all because of tonight's "American Idol." Mostly, I blame Taylor Hicks, who is my favorite in this years competition, and his perfectly awful butcher job he did on "Country Roads." I love that song and I even have it on my mp3 player. Taylor is so good but tonight he just plained sucked. He could've laid such a hurtin' on say, a George Jones song or a Merle Haggard song, but, noooo..I'm sure everybody's favorite phone sex guy, Kenny Rogers, encouraged it. I mean, come on...Kenny IS the undisputed king of country music, after all.

So I'm all depressed at what American Idol did to country music and I flip the channel to ABC and watched a delightful hour of "Sons and Daughters." This is the best show I've seen on network television in a long time. We've been so friggin inundated with reality the last few years...this here show is like a touch of spring after a long, hard winter. It's gut busting funny but tender at the same time. Best of all, one of the actors in this ensemble is Max Gail, aka Wojo from one of the best shows of all time, "Barney Miller."

It may just be too good for network tv.

Carrying on an Old Family Tradition



We want to know...

Hank, why do you drink - obviously, to get drunk and do really stupid things while your daughter is in the ICU?

Hank, why do you roll smoke -for good measure

Why must you live out those songs that you wrote? Because life for you is so miserable?

Over and over everybody made my predictions and thus far, we are right on the nose, pal
If I get stoned and sing all night long it's a family tradition
Correct me if I'm wrong here, Hank, but, I don't remember any waitresses accusing yo daddy of putting them in a choke hold or kissing them. ( Although, thanks to Hank Sr's. irresonsibility, we are stuck with that irritating and painfully annoying illegitimate daughter, Jett. )

Too bad waitress Heather didn't read my post about Buddy Alan Owens before she went to work that day. You can't be nice to men. Especially famous ones who just assume you want them. You have to be snobby and rude or you end up in this kind of sitchyeeashun. Guys who play guitars aren't able to just smile, wave and say hi. It's not in their DNA. Remember that next time, hon.

Celebrating a Life




April 4, 1895-Grand Rivers, Kentucky on land that is now part of the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area, a little boy was born to one Winfrey and Lena Nickell Collie. James Guthrie Collie...Guthrie to his friends and family, "Dad" to his wife, "Daddy" to his kids and "Pop" to his grandchildren and others....my grandfather.

Pop was born to a saintly mother and a father who was every bit devilish as she was holy. His father was an alcoholic and was known to be abusive to his wife and his 8 children, physically, mentally and emotionally. His father's method's of potty training were so abusive, that if he were around today, he would be in prison. By the time Pop was 12, the family had moved to Nashville (on a riverboat) and following yet another abusive episode, he decided he had had enough. He left the family home on Holly St. and spent his first night away from home in the Western Union office in the Stahlman Building. He took various odd jobs here and there, some taking him to Ashland City, some to Kentucky and Alabama to work for relatives. During one of his stints back in Grand Rivers, he was spotted by the local Methodist preacher's daughter, while he was eating a head of raw cabbage. I guess my Grandma liked the fact that not only was my grandfather a good looking son of a gun but had a stomach made of steel.

Pop joined the US Army, married the preacher's daughter and was sent off to France during WWI. He returned to the states and they began their family and lived a little like nomads, going wherever there was work. Each of their 5 kids was born in a different state. My dad was born in Little Rock, AR and when he was just a newborn, the family piled in their old car and drove towards San Antonio, where my grandmother's parents had relocated, to visit before going up to Chicago to take a job. One of Grandma's brothers mentioned that there was some work at a garment factory there in San Antonio for sewing machine repair. The nomad days for the Collie's were over and San Antonio became home. He later had his own sewing machine repair business with my uncle, that serviced a lot of factories.

Pop was not a wealthy man by monetary standards. He was a man of high moral integrity and adored by his children and grandchildren. He was not without his flaws, however, in a day and time where people use the fact they had bad childhoods to be screwups, Pop never did such a thing and would've never stood for that. He was a highly intelligent man, self taught and very well read. I can't imagine what he could've accomplished had he had the opportunity to go to college.

I love to listen to audiotapes of him telling about his life. I love to watch home movies of he and his brother throwing punches at each other. He had this great voice. He could write poetry and loved history. He had a beautifully twisted sense of humor. He was very stern when it came to disciplining his children but at the same time, he hugged and kissed his children everyday and told them he loved them, unlike his own father had done him.

I don't have the deep collection of memories my cousins have of Pop. I'm always so envious when I hear my various cousins recollecting this memory or that one. By the time I had come along, Pop had started to fade. He had heart trouble and most of what I remember is the old man sitting at the table, smoking his Salem cigarettes, his hearing aid box and the saccharin he used to sweeten his coffee and cereal. I was a rather shy and somewhat timid kid and I was scared of him because he had this deep, booming voice and some rather unconventional ways of showing affection to his grandkids. (He bit them. Don't ask)

He and I had this game. I never would kiss him. In this picture, we were playing that. I always thought it was a game until about a year or so ago, I found a cassette tape (one of the best parts of having a father who was a radio man, lots of audio cassettes with my grandparents voices) and on one tape, Dad telling his aunt how much it tore Pop up that I wouldn't hug or kiss him. I felt horrible. I was just a small child though. I hope he understood. I never did kiss him until the last time I saw him, lying in a nursing home bed the year before he died. I remember my dad thanking me for doing that. I was 9 years old. He knew that that was not easy for me to do.

I've gotten to know Pop since I've been an adult. Through those precious tapes and photographs, through forming close relationships with some of his extended family, I've been to his birthplace in Kentucky, walked the grounds where he no doubt, played as a child, been to the burial places of his parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents and other ancestors. I've looked out over Lake Barkley where he first developed his love of fishing and the outdoors. I've read some of his letters. I have a photo album of his. I get him. I understand him. I admire the hell out of him. I DO know him!

Monday, April 03, 2006

Like My Pie, Like My Puddin', Love That Gal That They Call Sally Goodin'


Mr. Smiff and crew have returned from their weekend of gigs: First Mamaroneck, NY then down to Winchester, VA and last night over at Kennedy Center in Washington, DC.

Having never been to DC, I'm not sure how Kennedy Center is set up, but, best I can gather, there were a number of stages going on at once. The guys drew a nice crowd and after they got over their initial "Oh my gawsh, we're playing at Kennedy Center" the mood relaxed so much so that it took on the appearance of a regular bluegrass festival.

If you've never had the experience of a bluegrass festival, they are just plain fun. People are known to get up and dance, if the spirit moves them and that's just what happened last night. An older gentleman was moved, probably by "Sally Goodin" (which even makes me, the non-clogger want to kick it up) to get up and shake a tail feather. Those Grascals are known for their energy and for having a ball while they're onstage. They have all sorts of inside jokes going on and they're always likely to make comments about this and that while in performance.

While the man was kicking it up, Mr. Smiff, forgetting that he was inside a government building, in the nation's capital, got to doing his usual thing and hollered "He's got a gun"....meaning "he's smoking...he's hot...he's happening." Thank goodness the airport security people weren't there or my old man might've joined such luminaries as Uncle Ted Kennedy smack dab in the middle of the No Fly list today. In fact, security was so not tight, he compared the one security guard to one from an Andy Griffith episode (the one where Barney was trying to catch the robber of the department store.)

I can't be the most objective when it comes to this group of pickers, but, they are something to behold. They play great, sing great and entertain. They'll be on the Tuesday night Opry tomorrow night, April 4. You can go see them for yourself or listen to them here.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Be Not Dismayed What 'Er Be Tide.....

I hate nights like this. Me and storms just plain don't get along. I can appreciate their beauty and wonder, however, when they have to start calling Davis Nolan AND when they call Ron Howes in on a Sunday night, you know it's gonna be a rough night. I begin to envision myself as being the subject of a Jim (Mr. Forearms) Cantore interview on "Storm Stories" on the Weather Channel. Yeah, yeah, I know the chances are slim and as Mr. Smiff is so fond of teasing me saying "A tornado is headed straight for Sista Smiff in Sumner County!!" I don't have a basement to hide in and Mr. Smiff is headed back from Kennedy Center. Not that he could walk outside and pull a Jesus and tell it to stop.

Nights like this, I wish I had an organ so we could do what my dad's family used to do during rough storms. His sister would hit the organ and play "God Will Take Care of You" over and over. Since I don't have the old organ to rely on, I did do a quick search and found that very hymn, played on a piano here. It ain't the same as Thelma Lady's playing, but, it'll do.

Be not dismayed what'er be tide
God will take care of you
Beneath His wings in love abide
God will take care of you

God will take care of you
Through everyday, o'er all the way
He will take care of you
God will take care of you

My faith is strong, in big stuff and little stuff, but, when it comes to storms, I'm a little like Peter, I guess. "Oh ye of little faith."

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Let Me Hear A Big "Hell Yeah" For the Redneck Girls Like Me

If we are to gauge how red we are about the neck area by Gretchen Wilson's little ditty, then I guess I have to submit my admission that I am officially a redneck woman.

No, I don't drink beer (maybe once a presidential term), I only use the term "yee haw" in jest, I do say "Hey Ya'll" with some frequency and I know words to a lot of Tanya Tucker songs and only one of Charlie Daniels'....but what includes me in this exclusive club is the fact that it is April 1 and our Christmas lights still adorn the front of the house. Yes, it's embarrassing and this is the very reason I don't want them up, even at Christmas. Here we are, lawnmowers going all up and down the street, the trees budding out, tulips blooming in all their glory, but, if I wanted to get a hint of Christmas spirit, all I'd have to do is turn those babies on.

I'd take them down myself, but, I don't do ladders. The question, at this point, I guess, is, should we just play along and leave them up and turn them on for the other holiday celebrations this year?

Friday, March 31, 2006

Favorite Quote of the Day










"I love the Monkees....Did you know they were a big influence on the Beatles?"

Lloyd Christmas-Dumb and Dumber

Vacation/Sick Day

Of course, the day I plan a vacation day, I end up having The Crud that has been flying around. I had it yesterday, went to work and then Co-Worker Debbie said I had a fever and in her oh so subtle way said "Get out of here. I don't want your funk."

I was planning on taking #2 to The Hermitage today. He is so into Presidents. They're calling for possible severe storms this afternoon and I'm not so sure I want to be stuck at Jackson's Tomb during a tornado warning. So instead of delving into the history of Old Hickory, #2 and I will be getting our sore, swollen throats swabbed for Strep. Yee haw.

While I'm convalescing today, I'm watching some uplifting television. So uplifting, I'm seriously considering donating my 401K to him. I'm also catching up on my gameshows.

**Update***
The word for the weekend is "streptococcus." Ginormous pills the size of Cleveland I must ingest for ten days and waiting for that inevitable "secondary" infection that is sure to follow when taking 875 mg of augmentin. (The girls out there know exactly of which I'm speaking.)

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Praise The Lord and Pass The Lipstick

Why is it that I can name just about every kid from my second grade class (1976), know minute, obscure trivia about country music and old movies, but every single time I am in a parking lot, I NEVER remember where I parked and I walk around and around and I'm three or four rows over from where I left my vehicle? I've been like this ever since I started driving. One time, I stopped short of calling the police at Hickory Hollow mall, thinking my Cutlass had been stolen, only to find I had come in a different entrance...

It happened again this evening at my second home, Wal Mart, where I happily found (for those following the saga) some COFFEE GLAZE lipstick!! God is so good to me.

The Buck (or Buddy Alan) Stops Here



I have a date with Eddie Stubbs tonight. Eddie's doing a 5 hour tribute tonight on WSM Radio (650 on your am dial!) to Buck Owens. There will be a lot of spayshul guests sharing their thoughts and memories on the Buckster, who died last week....Ferlin Husky, Roy Clark, Marty Stuart (why of course...can't have nothing without Marty throwing HIS two cents in) Jim Lauderdale and even Tom Brumley, who was the steel guitarists for the Buckaroos during their heyday. You can also listen to it on Sirius Satellite Radio or online. Should be a good un.

Speaking of Roy Clark, from what I hear, there was not lots of love lost between Buck and Roy. When "Hee Haw" began, Buck was supposed to be the "stahhh" but Roy, being funnier and such a great comedic talent, kinda stole it from him. I don't think that was the thing that caused the friction though.

Roy was known to indulge in alcoholic beverages and other activities. Buck was a teetotaler. Roy often rolled into the studio during tapings when he felt like it. This did not make Buck happy, for Buck was into gittin r done and getting out so he could count all his money, of which he had lots.

Buck kinda flipped out there for awhile in the 70's. Buck was married, for about five minutes, to Jana Jae, the girl that used to do commercials for Wal Mart, playing that blue fiddle, hideously, I might add. He married her and about 5 minutes later, kicked her out, then took out an ad in Billboard begging her to come back to him. (Why, Buck, why?!?!) Seems Miz Jae did go back, again, for about 5 minutes, and then later told the press "Buck was mentally ill while I was married to him." Obviously, or he wouldn't have married her. Buck did go through a rough time after his best friend/musical partner Don Rich died in a 1974 motorcycle accident, so we can forgive him for his horrible lapse in judgement.

I got hit on once by Buck's son, Buddy Alan. (I know women everywhere will be so envious of me) Back in 1990, me and some friends snuck our way into the Country Radio Seminar. Party central, I tell you. (My dad was one of the founders of this auspicious event, yet, somehow never mentioned all the drunkeness that occurred there. No wonder he'd be gone all during CRS week!) I was newly married, and at the time, Mr. Smiff had a record deal and single out and I guess I thought I was going to assist his up and coming career, knowing Buddy managed some of his Daddy's radio stations out west. I was all of 21 and as Minnie Pearl would say, didn't know nothin' and didn't suspect nothin. Let's just say ol' Buddy weren't interested in Mr. Smiff. Thank God and Roy Clark I was able to get away before I got a Buckaroo Gropin'.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Clouds in My Coffee

I'm so vain and I DO think this song is about me.

I'm out of my favorite lipstick shade and it's totally making me feel like the ugliest creature on the planet. I feel nekkid and not quite right without my "Coffee Glaze." I can't find it anywhere. I do hope Maybelline has not stopped making this color. I've bought a "Coffee Toffee" and a "Coffee Gleam" but it's lighter and when I pass by a mirror and see myself, I resemble a corpse. I also got another shade that looks like a close friend of Coffee Glaze, "Velvet Crush". I was crushed at how ugly it is.

I've tried mixing my various coffee shade with my "Elegant Cognac" gloss. It only looks good the first time I put it on in the morning. If I redo it later in the day, I start to resemble Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Blvd." SCARY! I am no Estee Lauder or Liz Arden fo sho.

I have never thought of myself as vain. I'm not afraid to go out in public without my makeup on. Ask Chris that works at the Hendersonville Kroger. He has seen me in just about every way. I've been in there fixed right nice after church on Sunday and early on Saturday mornings when I run out of my Hazelnut creamer. He still speaks to me after that and doesn't pretend he doesn't know me! I'm ok with the au naturel face look.

If, for some reason, the fine folks at Maybelline have decided Coffee Glaze needs to be retired. I don't know what I'll do. HELP!

Monday, March 27, 2006

Old School...New Name

Yay to the Sumner County School Board for voting to rename Wessington Place Elementary School in Hendersonville, George Whitten Elementary School. Kudos also go to Ben Bush for getting the petition started and getting the ball rolling on making it all happen. George Whitten was the principal at Wessington for about 25 years until he died of cancer just before this past Christmas. Before principaling, Mr. Whitten taught in Sumner County schools, so lots of kids in Hendersonville (and a lot of adults) were products of his tutelage.

Mr. Whitten was our principal for just two years. #1 Son began his school career at Wessington, attending there for kindergarten and first second grade, before a new elementary school came in and we were re-zoned for the new facility.

During #1's kindergarten year, I had begun working full time, which left Mr. Smiff responsible for getting the lad off to school every morning. Mr. Smiff, being a musician, keeps musician hours. My mother in law refers to it as "Elvis Standard Time", meaning late nights and waking at the crack of noon.

While #1 was in preschool, he didn't have to get there til about 9:30 and there was no strict rules about getting the kids there on time. This was perfect for Mr. Smiff. (Look up "slow" or "laid back" in Mr. Webster and you are likely to see his picture.) Elementary school, as Mr. Smiff was soon to learn, is not quite so relaxed as far as the school bell was concerned, nor were they interested in the shedyool that he was accustomed to.

As a result of a few too many mornings missing the bell, #1 brought home a note informing us that he was due to report to detention as punishment for his tardiness. Detention for a kindergartner??!??!?! Mr. Smiff was livid. He was going to go confront Mr. Whitten and settle this matter and that was that. He was all ready to deal with the big, badass principal. He was going to tell Mr. Whitten how it was. I told Mr. Smiff that we were in a different playing field now and things like getting to school on time was not a matter of our convenience and that we couldn't get #1 there whenever we felt like it. "Pffft" said Mr. Smiff. For he is the Dad.

Needless to say, #1 completed his sentence in detention. This happened after Mr. Smiff went and had a little chat with Mr. Whitten. Mr. Whitten wasn't such a badass after all. He explained to Mr. Smiff that he couldn't let one kid slide on the rules and not the other. (Same thing I had said). I believe Dad felt pretty bad when all was said and done that #1 had pretty much been sentenced to dentention because of his not getting him to school on time. Tardiness was never a problem again for any of the Smiff Kids.

Lunchtime in Downtown Nashville


I had the absolute best lunch time ever today. I didn't dine at a trendy spot or anything like that. I put on my old tennis shoes I keep at my desk and decided today, I would get my exercise over lunchtime, since I've been having a hard time working in the Y in the evenings. (Whine, whine..it isn't easy with a full time job and three kids that expect to be fed and stuff)

Off I go, out the door. It's a beautiful day in Nashville, about 58 degrees when I set out, a little chilly sorta but beautiful, blue sky.

Started out from 8th towards Church St. I love Church St. Everytime I am there, I always try to picture what it was like back in the day it was the center of Nashville's shopping district. Castner's was still open when I first started working downtown almost ten years ago. As a kid, I can remember every spring, taking the big trip downtown to Cain Sloan for Bunny Land. Who else remembers Bunny Land??? Come on now. I know I'm not the only one.

As I walked through the Arcade, instead of noticing the neat little eating places, all I noticed was that every person in there was smoking! It was almost like today was a special day just for the smokers. I'm surprised they let them do that still. Not smoker bashing (I are one) but it was just an interesting observation.

What are they building right next to the L & C Tower? I mean, the Tower is going to have itself a twin. The L & C is just a cool building. Have you ever ridden in the elevators in there? They are old and retro looking and just cool.

The Mother Church was looking beautiful today, as always. Wish I could've had time to go in and just set awhile.

Went around to Broadway and my eye caught the Ernest Tubb Record Shop. Do I cross the street through traffic? Is it worth it? Yes, it was. Compared to the newer ET Shop out at Music Valley Dr., this one is tiny, but, oh so charming. Especially when you consider that for years, this was THE after Opry place. They even have the coke crates Loretta stood on to reach the microphone. They have Pete Drake's steel guitar, a tv playing the scene from "Coal Miner's Daughter" shot right there....cool western shirts that ET wore. Books galore...I could've spent the rest of the afternoon reading Hugh Waddell's "I Still Miss Someone." It's a great book featuring remembrance of Johnny Cash by his family and friends (and their shoe sizes!).

As I was standing there, reading through the Waddell book, enjoying the Loretta cd playing in the background, I looked up and there are photographs all over the Ernest Tubb Record Shop. A lot of them have been there since forever. There was a photo in a frame directly above where I was looking and I recognized it immediately because I was present when the photo was taken. It was made about 1978 at Two Rivers Mansion during Fan Fair when all the old timers got together. ET, Patsy Montana, Lulu Belle and Scotty, Joe Allison, all these people and there, about midway in the bunch was my dad smiling back at me.

I beamed and practically skipped my way back up that horrendous hill on Broadway back to the office. I should have lunches like that more often.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

What Makes Country Cool

An odd little moment today during lunch at Jaybird's in Hendersonville. (Jaybird's is a fantastic little restaurant on Stop Thirty Rd. that specializes in amazing southern cooking. You should go there.)

Jaybird's has a couple tv's in their establishment and one of the television's was airing that race in Bristol. I'm not into NASCAR so I'm not sure what it's official title is, but, Diamond Rio performed the National Anthem (and did a bangup job, I might add) and bassist/singer Dana Williams' parents, Louise and Maurice, were sitting at the table behind us, quite proud of their boy. Louise shared she was recording it at home and I thought that's just like a proud mom. After all these years that Diamond Rio has enjoyed a lots of success, Mom STILL records every television performance. Neat.

Also heard that at Brad Paisley's show in Iowa last night, when he performed his current hit "When I Get Where I'm Going", he added a photograph in the video presentation of his mentor, Buck, and then at the very end, included a photo of Buck and his beloved guitarist/harmony vocalist Don Rich (who was killed in a motorcycle wreck at the age of 34 in the 70's) with a caption of "Together Again." How sweet is that?

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Buck Owens 1929-2006




















The best country band...ever-Buck Owens, Don Rich, Willie Cantu, Tom Brumley and Doyle Holley...aka The Buckaroos



Three cool dudes: Buck Owens, Tex Ritter and Dad
circa 1965 (photo by Polaroid...the 1960's version of the digital camera)


I'm trying to follow the blog rule of my pal, Steve, in not going back and adding stuff to the blog after I post it, but, I thought of something I wanted to add on thoughts of Buck.

In 1989, I was working at CMT. This was before it was bought by the mega conglomerate and was a struggling little cable channel run by Stan Hitchcock. I was the 20 year old on the front desk, answering the phone...the lowest chick on the totem pole.

There was a television that played CMT (what else) all day long. It was quite redundant hearing the same 10 songs over and over all day long and to this day, songs/videos that were popular at the time ran along the lines of the then "new" acts like Alan, Clint and that guy named Garth. In the mix, there was some Buck Owens thrown in. I was nuts about Buck and did something I've only done one other time and that was write a fan letter. (The other one was to Donny and Marie when I was about 7). I had the advantage of having Buck's office address so I guess that helped it get right into his hands.

To my utter amazement, about two weeks later, I received a package in the mail. In it were two autographed cassettes, an 8 x 10 and a personal, handwritten letter from the Buckster himself. Do keep in mind, this guy was a multi-bazillionaire and largely retired from actively performing so he certainly had nothing to prove by responding to me. But, he did.

Some might say "What is the big deal...he was the guy on Hee Haw?" HA! Hee Haw was just a minute little stop Buck made in his professional journey. Before he hit the Kornfield, Buck Owens was a succesful studio musician in Los Angeles. He underplayed his guitar abilities after the great Don Rich joined his outfit and he largely let him do the guitar work and I don't know that he ever showed off his chops on Hee Haw.

Buck Owens recorded some of the best country music ever and he did it all on the West Coast. He was covered by the Beatles, even and they didn't cover a lot of artists. He refused to be part of the Nashville machine (thank goodness) and he pretty much did it his way and on his terms. He was also a sharp businessman, owning Lord knows how many radio stations.

If all you know of Buck is the guy on Hee Haw with the backwards overalls (Hee Haw was the bomb though), I would strongly encourage you to take a hop over to your favorite music outlet and get a copy of The Very Best Of Buck Owens Vol I.

Friday, March 24, 2006

The Thundering Herd


Last night we had to go to the High School for our first, I don't know what the official name of the event was but to get the registration booklet and info for our upcoming High School Freshman.

I'm not sure how I feel about having a child that will be a Freshman this fall. It doesn't seem possible that he has grown up this quickly but more than that, the selfish side of me is like "I just got out of high school a few years ago." Then I remind myself that next year is my 20 year reunion.

We're fortunate to live in an area with this beautiful, new building out in Sumner County. (Williamson County Who?????) that's only been there a few years. They have a gajillion clubs..a food court (say what?) and it's just an all around nice place. I'm excited for #1 Son because Lord willing, he's about to hit what I hope will be a fantastic four year period in his life. He is already talking about where he wants to go to college and I've lectured him umpteen times on how on his path to college, the sliding by without studying, but still making good grades thing is probably about to come to a screeching halt and he's going to have to commit to studying a lot if'n he wants to be able to go to the high fallutin' school he's talking about (Vanderbilt).

I was pretty cool about the whole idea of high school until they mentioned that this incoming Freshmen bunch will be the class of 2010. All the kids in attendance hooped and hollered but as I looked around, I was glad I was not the only parent with the lump in their throat.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Oh K. T. Oslin, Where Art Thou


About 19 years ago, a singer/songwriter type blew into Twang Town from New York City with her song about "80's Ladies." Kay Toinette aka "K. T." Oslin was a seasoned commercial jingle singer and seems to me, she had done some Broadway work before coming to Nashville.

I remember there were some who cried foul when her nostalgic song about being grown up women hit the country charts. I know my own mother griped because "she ain't country!" Truthfully, I kinda thought KT was a little snooty and uppity for country music myself. Those silly gloves she wore and all that feminisim attitude she had. Pfft....I didn't relate to the song about burning bras and being the "girls of the 50's and 60's" in 1987. Heck no...I was 18, a size 6 and still had black hair and just didn't relate to nary a thing that song was talking about. I never gave a hiatal hernia about that 80's Ladies song....until about 5 minutes ago.

Listening to XM's "America-Classic Country" (Channel 10 to be exact) and they just played "80's Ladies." The lyrics that got to me.....

We've been educated, we got liberated And that's complicated matters with men
Oh we've said I do and we've signed I don't And we've sworn we'd never do that again
Oh we've burned our bras and we've burned our dinners
And we've burned at candles at both ends
And we've got some children who look just like
the way we did back then
Oh but we're all grown up now All grown up
None of us can tell you quite how

I'm just too sentimental. I'm sitting here bawling my eyes out, feeling pretty stupid. PMS maybe....I don't know. What a great song. Sorry I had negative thoughts about you K. T. At 37, I get you now.

Where is KT anyway????

The Grande Dame of Music Row


This is my maw in law. My husband's mother. My children's grandmother and a mother figure to a lot of people from struggling songwriters to young women to gay guys. Everybody is "honey" to her, unless, of course, you step out of her favor which, trust me, you don't want to be out of her favor.

Hazel is from Caswell County, NC. It is so far removed from the hustle and bustle of busy suburbia, it isn't even funny. She grew up on a tobacco (tuh-backa as they say in Caswell) farm. Her daddy was the local sheriff and all around bad ass. She tells stories of her dad getting mad when the kids played. He wanted them to work all the time and apparently, he didn't put up with much nonsense. Every picture I've ever seen of my grandfather-in-law, he looks stressed out and unhappy. He died at the age of 58 while sitting at the breakfast table from a massive stroke.

Her mother, who is still living and recently celebrated 92 years of living, married at 15 years old, and although she was not educated, has more common sense than anybody I know. She was also, before the effects of 92 years of living took their toll on her, one of the best southern cooks around.

Hazel took the broad step and moved to Nashville in 1968 to pursue a career as a songwriter, leaving behind a 15 year marriage. My father in law, who is ten years older than my mother in law and of a totally different mindset, did not support her dreams of doing something beyond Rockingham and Caswell Counties. He didn't think she had any talent as a songwriter or really, anything. In reality, The Older Mr. Smiff knew what he was dealing with with his wife and that she was a livewire. I think he was extremely threatened by her spunk, tenacity and git r done attitude. He begged her to come back home. He missed her cooking.

Hazel came to Nashville, with my then 8 year old husband in tow, later followed by her older son, and somehow, scarfed out a living for herself and her kids. She worked for Kinky Friedman, Tompall Glaser, Waylon Jennings, began writing a long running column in Country Music magazine and coining the phrase "Outlaw Music" to describe what her then employers were doing musically. Later on, she ran the office of Dr. Hook and the personal dealings of Ricky Skaggs and had some pretty good song cuts in between. She has continued writing for various publications and is on radio station WFMS in Indianapolis every morning.

Hazel learned a lot from her mother's kitchen and is quite the Southern culinary expert. She has spent the last 5 years making it her personal mission to make sure people know how to cook like our grandmas used to. She has cooked on Emeril Lagasse's show on the Food Network and appears on the Ellen DeGeneres Show a few times a year. She has a cookbook called "Cooking With Country Stars" and tonight (Thursday) she will be on QVC at 8:00 eastern hawking it. Although it would be great if you bought one (I have my kids inheritance to think of, ya know), you should be highly entertained.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

TV Land Awards


Holy Senior Citizens, Batman!!!!

Watching the TVLand Awards and I'm just amazed at how friggin elderly some of these people are.

JJ from Good Times is much blacker than I remember him....Michael looks like somebody's Paw Paw....Donny Osmond, caked in makeup, IS somebody's Paw Paw....Dee from "What's Happening" uses some sort of crutches that you can tell aren't a temporary thing....What has happened to Billy Crystal!?!??! Sid Caesar, God love that genius, is so frail and couldn't walk without help. Ok, so he is something like 85 so I can understand has anomaly.....Peter Brady (sans the bimbo from the Surreal Life") has salt and pepper hair....John Amos, aka James Evans, Sr....his nose still looks like it could house a whole city....Larry Hagman looks like a wax figure from Madame Toussaud's.....Mary Tyler Moore...whoever continues to butcher her face through plastic surgery should lose their medical license. Don't stretch it no more. Not much left to stretch. Where was Janet Jackson?!??!?!?

The parody of "Grey's Anatomy" was killer.

Smiff Meets American Idol



One of the best parts of being a parent is seeing bits and pieces of yourself in them.

When I was growing up, I hung out amongst country music royalty on a regular basis. I didn't know that these people were "special" until I got older. I mean, I thought everybody's parents had good friends who had a collection of Nudie suits and colorful cowboy boots like Carl Smith did. That was the norm. It's been much the same for my kids, getting to meet legends (most of the time unimpressed) and do stuff like hang out backstage at the Grand Ole Opry. I used to get Dad to haul me out there when certain people would be performing.

For my kids, they've been to the Opry a number of times throughout their lives. Regulations are stricter now for bringing children backstage so they didn't get to go a lot until the last couple years. When I was a kid, there were no such rules until Sonny Osborne got mad when some kid ran into his banjo neck and broke it, but, I digress.

This past weekend, the Princess Daughter made her first arrangements (on her own via her grandma) to go to the Opry when Dad was not playing. She wanted to see her hero, Carrie Underwood, and see her she did.

If she lives to be 190, she will remember meeting Carrie just as I remember the first time I met Emmylou when I was about 15. I don't have a photograph from that first meeting but I would be I had the same scared, "I can't believe this" look on my face that my sweet daughter has here.

There's So Much That We Share When It's Time We're Aware......

I love blogs. They're fun to read. There's some interesting folk running around out there.

I had happened upon this blog a number of times and as somebody who attempts to run and shares the same spiritual philosophies, Steve's blog was one of my favorites. I didn't know until about a week or so ago, after being a semi-regular to this blog, that Steve works on my floor. I've only been on this floor for a couple months so now Steve is a new pal and we've bonded...through blogging.

Technology is so grand.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Promptings


I have a Post It Note attached to my computer reminding me to send a note to Genny. It's been there for a few weeks.

Genny is a former co-worker... a fantastic lady in her early 70's who is one of the hippest, free spirited chicks I know. She dressed in colorful clothes, and was full of interesting stories and tales of her adventures in life.

My favorite Genny Story was how when she was in college, in the 50's, she dated a Chinese guy. Nowadays, that's not a big deal but at that time, in Nashville, Tennessee, for an upstanding young college co-ed, that was unheard of and took a ton of guts.

Genny's last husband was about 20 years younger than her. She outlived him.

Genny broke her back within the last year and it really took its toll on her. She was dealing with Macular Degeneration and one of her sons has a terminal illness and is in Hospice care as we speak. She still had her sense of humor but everytime I saw her, the spark seemed less and less.

It's too late for me to send her that note to encourage her and let her know I was thinking of her.

Genny was scheduled for eye surgery today (that she was determined to get to, come what may) and the person who was going to take her for the procedure this morning went to get her but got no answer at the door or on the phone. When they got in. they found her in her chair with the television on, her little dog by her side.

Note to self....don't put off those promptings of getting in touch with somebody. No, my note probably wouldn't have saved Genny's life...but, it would sure make me feel better right now to know my pal knew how much I cared about her.

Lordy, Lordy



40 doesn't seem too old anymore. It never seemed "old" to me, just, rather, "far" off. A number of my friends and family will cross that milestone this year, including my sister. Today, however, one of my most favoritest cousins crosses the 40 threshhold.

I have a TON of first cousins. Both my parents came from big families and their brothers and sisters took the "be fruitful and multiply" command quite seriously. Interestingly, most of these first cousins are old enough to be my parents. The exception to this family rule was my mother's sister Pat had a second marriage and proceeded to have three children in stairstep order and they are the only first cousins close to my age. They lived in Alexandria, Louisiana, and we usually saw them at least twice a year. The highlight of the year was going to Alex or them coming to Nashville. The culmination to the Nashville trip was the trip to Opryland (see photo of us in our Dr. Pepper shirts in 1979-cool does not describe us. Also note the little dark headed girl on the top left that insisted on wearing the different Dr. Pepper shirt. I was such a rebel without a clue)

All of us kids thoroughly adored and enjoyed each other. The memory closet of times spent with these kids is so large, the blogosphere wouldn't hold them all.

Cousin Kim was the second of these three and the only relative (up until my own daughter was born) that I knew of that was blonde and blue eyed. My mother's family was full of black hair, almost black eyes and all on the short side. Kim was blonde, blue eyed, long and lanky. She has never for a second had to worry about gaining an ounce and somehow she missed that awkward stage the rest of us had to endure. She could turn flips, dance, always had a boyfriend and was extremely popular in high school and college. She was even a friggin beauty queen and competitive gymnast.

We used to play Charlie's Angels (Kim was always Farrah), tell ghost stories, play Swinging Statues, jam to the DeFranco's while watching their ultra groovy record player light up in time with the music, go to the mall and stay up most of the night howling with laughter until Aunt Pat would come fuss at us, without her teeth in..making us laugh more.

Kim and I communicate pretty regularly through email. I've only seen her once in the last 20 years but she keeps me up to date on her family and now that her mother is gone, she is the lifeline to this branch of our family tree we love so much.

Happy 40th Kim....maybe we can go down to Valentine Lake to celebrate!

Monday, March 20, 2006

Old Pals I'm Proud Of

I have a My Space page, solely for the purpose of keeping an eye on my preteen Princess. It's quite interesting, that My Space. A few weeks back, I got a message from some nice looking guy (pictures come with messages, if they have one posted for those not familiar) and the subject line had my first name and a question mark. I opened it up and all the message said was my first and maiden name with a question mark. I could not figure out who this guy was but assumed it had to be somebody who knew me when I was my maiden name, which has been quite a long time. I looked and looked and figured I had to have known this person but who was it?!?!?!

It finally hit me that it was Murrey Gropp. Murrey Gropp and I go back to first grade at Lipscomb Elementary School. I haven't seen hide nor hair of him in probably 20 years. He was/is as much as a character as his name implies. A rather robust little boy with an "overbite", his appearance and his personality is one nobody could ever forget. He was a hoot in school and had a wisdom about politics and current events that went way beyond his years. It probably wasn't very wise wisdom but it always impressed the heck outta me that he could talk politics in the 5th grade and sound like he knew what he was talking about.

Murrey was a great kid. All these years later, I can just think about him and start laughing. He lives in East Tennessee now...never married or had children as of yet. He is a drug/alcohol counselor. Apparently, he draws on experience in counseling those trying to free themselves from the bondage of substance abuse...which didn't surprise me because the last time I remember seeing Murrey was at one of those wild, Brentwood parties in about 1985. I still don't know why I was there because I didn't really participate in such, but, I was present at this gathering of Brentwood High students...seems the party resembled the party in "Sixteen Candles".

As I was leaving, I passed Murrey, no telling how many sheets to the wind he was, giving some young girl a field sobriety test. The pot was screaming for the kettle.............anyway, I'm glad to be in touch with ol' Mur and am quite proud of him for turning his life around and helping other people.

Thawt Fawr The Day

Why is it that people are always seem so shocked and amazed when we have a coldsnap in March or April?? It happens every single year. We get a taste of spring and warm, pretty weather and inevitably, we'll have another touch of winter before it's all over. Why does this shock people? Do they just forget or they long so for spring they can't handle the thought of winter?

Let that fall on you a minute....tawk amongst yaselves.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

The Williams Girls

People are just stupid. Even if the allegations against Hank Williams, Jr. were true (no chance in hell) now would not be the time to say something like this.

Boozing, women and rowdy friends aside, Hank is living every parent's worst nightmare, not to mention their poor mother lost her dad and is dealing with all of this in the same week.

Glad to hear Holly has been released from the hospital and let's keep praying that Hilary makes a complete recovery. Both are beautiful and talented young women.

Friday, March 17, 2006

A Day Off

I took a vacation day today. Just as I predicted last Friday, when it was 75 degrees and an all around gorgeous day, the day I take off is cloudy and 50 degrees.

The reason I took a day today was because Mr. Smiff and crew are singing/playing in a wedding this evening. The guy getting married is the brother of a famous singer (that we found out isn't speaking to the groom over a tiff of some sort). Here it is 2:32 and the wedding is in 4 hours and I have nothing to wear. I'm teetering on "I'm not going". I should be excited about a rare evening out and a nice, free dinner, but this whole not having to wear anything just puts a damper on things.

I've gone to try to find something but haven't found anything that suits my liking. That's the way it always works out for me. I HATE to shop. I especially hate shopping under pressure. All the stores have these tops that have paisleys on them (when did THEY come back and who invited them?) and it's that horrid time of year when sleeveless seems to be everywhere. Some of us have better manners than to wear sleeveless. If I weren't looking for something and had no money in my pocket, I'd see a million things I'd want.

We did go and surprise #2 at lunchtime. Lunchtime with second graders is always a fun and meaningful experience. We chose not to partake in the fine cuisine of the school cafeteria. I see they still serve those horrid soybean burgers and tater tots. Yuck. We opted for the Mason Jar instead.

It was hard to find #2 in the crowd of kids in the cafeteria because it was a sea of green. Every kid had green on. I mean, every kid. One kid had on a tall, green Leprechaun hat and one girl had on deely boppers with shamrocks on them.

Maybe....I should find something bright green and borrow the kid's deely boppers for my wedding attire?

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Separated At Birth?



Is it just me, or do these two look alike? If News 2's Brent Frazier was to get ahold of some gel, we'd have us a set o'broadcasting twins.

Wedding Bells for Rusty

Isn't it precious that Rusty Yates is remarrying this weekend??? I think a great wedding gift for the new Mrs. Yates would be stretch mark cream, a new copy of "What To Expect When You're Expecting", maybe a Lithium prescription and a two by four to knock ol' Rusty in the head here and there.

I still think that low life Rusty bears part of the responsibility of what happened to his children and he should be doing time in prison. Knowing his wife was clinically PSYCHOTIC, he insisted on keeping her perpetually pregnant, had her live in a friggin RV, homeschool (don't even get me started on that topic) all while she was taking care of her father, who was dying of Alzheimer's.

Andrea should've drowned Rusty instead.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Shopping List: Odor Eaters

I didn't wear socks with my slip ons today. It don't smell so great. It smells like that old portable at Franklin High School where I took Driver's Ed. It makes me think of the curmudgeonly Economics and Driver's Ed teacher, "B" Nelson. (There were two Bill/William Nelsons at FHS in those days. B as in "bastard") He always said I wouldn't amount to anything. As if he amounted to a heap himself trying to teach all of us how to balance checkbooks and to drive.

I think ol B Nelson has gone to that great portable in the sky. Thanks to him, I did not learn to balance a checkbook adequately and my memory of him is associated with smelly feet. Not exactly the way I'd want to be remembered.

This is kinda like "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie." If you don't wear socks, it will remind you of a teacher you hated....Gives a whole new meaning to A Whiff of Smiff doesn't it?

Monday, March 13, 2006

A Slight Wind


The thing I hate about this time of year is the threat of bad thunderstorms and tornadoes. I was working downtown on April 16, 1998, when the tornado that most people didn't think could come to a downtown, urban area came. I've always been a Storm Ninny but since then, the sound of a tornado warning makes me nervous as a cat at a dog show.

It had stormed off an on all day and I'd had my radio going and my co-workers were laughing at me for being so uptight about the weather and the warnings. They thought it was pregancy hormones run amok (I was 6 months along with #2 Son) and that I was overreacting. I had pretty much kept my eyes peeled to the window most of the day, nervously pacing back and forth.

A little before 3:30, Mr. Smiff called and said that there was a tornado that had just gone over Channel 4 and was going towards 2-65. I could see Knob Hill out a window and it didn't look like the typical funnel cloud. It was just dark, dark and quite foreboding.

I went into another office and there were a couple ladies standing looking out the window and I told them what Mr. Smiff had said....tornado...coming towards Downtown, we'd better do something. (There was nobody in charge, no emergency plan in place at this time) The one lady paused a minute and said "Oh....do you want to see pictures of my grandbabies?!?" trying to push a photograph in my face. "UH NO" I said as I stormed out. The power started to flicker and nobody was doing anything or even noticing, really. It pissed me off. I was hauling ass for two, for the love of Bill Hall. I took off for the stairs (and oddly enough ran into another expectant mother who had the same fears and common sense. The last thing I heard before descending to the bottom of the building was some brilliant girl saying "Wow! Look at that car flying!" Idiots.

Going down about 12 flights of stairs as fast as my pregnant body would carry me, the building was shaking, insulation flying through the vents, the windows bowing in and out, stuff flying by the window...I get to the bottom and the security people did not know what to do. Nobody had a clue. I just kept going as far as I could go.

When we came up for air, things looked ok at my building, save the guardshack that had been on the parking roof about 15 minutes before was nowhere to be seen. A few cars lost some windows but otherwise, things were ok. I climbed BACK up the 12 flights of stairs to get my stuff to leave (no electricity) got it, came back down, got in my car and headed for home.

I did not know that the rest of Downtown Nashville was trashed. I went through downtown, like I always did, to get on Ellington Parkway, but, found myself stuck in horrible traffic and then a Metro Cop came to my car and said "You have to get out and get inside somewhere...another one's coming." I happened to be by the Hermitage Hotel so I went in. The bar was PACKED and people were having themselves a good ol time. Tornado! Yipppeeeee....drinks for everybody. Had I not been knocked up, I'd have joined right in....and I'm not a drinker.

I didn't have a cell phone at this time, but, it wouldn't have mattered. There was no cell service. I couldn't call home, didn't have any way of knowing how Hendersonville was. It was a pretty helpless feeling. They finally let us leave the hotel and I made my way back to my building.

Another problem came up as I got in the car. My gas tank was just about on empty and I had NO money on me. Nothing...no card....nada. I waited a little longer at work and thanks to a $20 donation from one of the VP's...I got gas and finally got home at 7:00. When I walked in, I was greeted by my then 6 year old and 4 year old and their daddy...who was about 90 sheets to the wind. Needless to say, I was worn out and had the headache from hell. Being pregnant, I couldn't take my usual Goody's headache powder so the inebriated Mr. Smiff had just the remedy....Tiger Balm. That shit burned my head so bad, I can almost feel it now thinking about it. I was not happy. Just been through a tornado and it's aftermath, and I have this burning stuff on my head.

Amazing only one person died that day. I was not near death or didn't get plundered in the head but I felt fortunate to have been able to go home to my kids and their drunk daddy that night. You can't go through something like that not realizing how fragile life is and how incredibly small we are.

If I don't ever experience another tornado close up again...it will be too soon.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Viva Nash Vegas

Mr. Smiff and The Grascals are on the Grand Ole Opry tonight and they are going to have some very special guests join them. They will be performing "Viva Las Vegas" (really cool done bluegrass) and The Jordanaires, who sang on the original with The Kang himself, will be ooohing and aahing behind them. Cool is probably not an adequate enough word to describe it. These guys are truly legends of American music and even more of an honor is that Gordon Stoker is flying in from his winter, Florida home to perform with them.

You can see it on tv on GAC at 7:00 tonight and it will air again Sunday and through the week.

Friday, March 10, 2006

And the June Cleaver Award Goes To............

Typical Friday morning at the Smiff House. I was in my usual jovial, positive, life-lovin mood, as I am every Friday. I think the Smiff Kids probably recite my dialogue along with me as I spew out my usual uplifting, positive reinforcement to get them ready for a day of learning.

My Middle Schoolers are having "Friend Pictures" made today. They let them get with their friends, pay $5 and have a moment frozen in time. I'm surprised they don't charge $30 for a tiny polaroid. Anyway, #1 Son is having his picture made with his girlfriend. I was hoping he'd have one made with his posse of pals that he's been friends with for a long time, but I didn't press. I didn't tell him I predict he and Girl will probably be an un-couple within a week or two. They've been a couple for about three weeks now. He mentioned yesterday some other kid is trying to move in on his woman. I'm bracing myself to comfort the boy on his first heartbreak. It's coming. I feel it.

The Room Mothers had sent home this big envelope wanting us to do all these little things for Teacher Appreciation Day...have the kid write her a note of thanks, do a "Why I Love Mrs. Smith" picture, send snapshots of the kid, and of course, an envelope to put money in for a gift. We got this envelope a week ago and we certainly didn't want to break tradition and have it ready earlier in the week. Why no! It's much funner trying to scramble and get it done at 10:30 the night before it's due and carry it over to 6 a.m the next morning. That's the Smiff Way and I refuse to break such a time honored family tradition.

#2 Son is also having his picture made this morning because he has been given some title I can't remember but it has to do with being a good student. They take a picture of the other winners and they put it in the paper. I didn't feel like washing bluejeans last night. #2 is wearing the same jeans he had on yesterday. I did not know until we were on our way out the door this morning that he spilled ketchup on them. He will be Student of the Month, with ketchup on his pants, in the local newspaper. Check that box and vote me Mother of the Year.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

The Perfect Song

The Perfect Song: "1. Till I Gain Control Again - Van Morrison"

I've had a long love affair with songs and songwriters. Songwriters are just plain interesting. I've known lots of them in my time. I think my love of the art began when I was a baby.

When my family moved to Nashville, I was 8 months old. We stayed at the home of some friends for a few days until our house was ready to occupy. The friend was a man by the name of Eddie Miller. Eddie wrote a lot of songs that are considered to be classics...."Thanks A Lot", "There She Goes" and the immortal "Release Me". Eddie was a wonderful man and as a small child, I didn't realize the impact his songs have made on millions of people and he died when I was 8 so I never really had the chance to question him about how he came up with the idea for this one or that one, like I later had the opportunity to with people like Roger Miller, Harlan Howard, Johnny Russell and a lot of other people.

I think the most perfect song ever written is Rodney Crowell's "Til I Gain Control Again." It's everything a great song should be. Rodney took the not so original idea of trying to move on past a failed relationship and said it in a way unlike anybody has ever expressed it, which is the goal of every songwriter when they compose.

I was way familiar with it when in 1987 at a benefit at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville, a not-yet-famous Vince Gill performed it, just him and a guitar and it moved me in such a way that I had not been moved before and rarely since. The best way I can explain how it affected me is that it was like something physically got inside my body and touched me so profoundly that it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. It was powerful.

I was intrigued when I heard that Van Morrison had cut "Til I Gain Control" on his latest cd "Pay The Devil." Somebody with such a distinctive voice and artistry HAD to just nail it....and he does not disappoint. Wish I could've been one of the lucky ones to hear him perform it at the Ryman this week. I have a feeling to hear him sing it live, probably would've affected me much like Vince Gill affected me with it in 1987.

Out on the road that lies before me now
There are some turns that I will spin
I only hope that you can hold me now
Til I can gain control again

Dang, Rodney.....