Really random stuff…..


Just posting to keep a pulse on my blog. So for now its mostly visual and sparse and really random..enjoy.

When at this computer here in order is the album of songs I listen too. If not this then I stream WKDK am…..Newberry South Carolina. Evenings mostly is random music from the 60′s thru the 80′s, time, temp and weather. Other nights its South Carolina ‘Football’…

Soul Serenade…..King Curtis

Dig a Pony…………Beatles

Across the Universe…….Beatles

Devil Got My Woman….Gregg Allman

Bell Bottom Blues…..Derick and the Dominoes

Bertha…..Grateful Dead

Savannah Mama….Blind Willie McTell

Back on My Feet Again….Randy Newman

She Caught the Katy……Wet Willie

Wah-Wah……..George Harrison

The weather in the south has been wet this summer. Its easy…East Coast moisture north to south…mid third of the country moisture wraps southward above the plains. funnel into Ga-alabama

I’m behind the new Alpharetta City Center 100%…..lol.

Alpharetta City Center

Alpharetta City Center

 One supervisor and one worker. Its the American way..

1 supervisor 1 employee

1 supervisor 1 employee

When I was a kid in the 1960′s this was the Thomson/McDuffie county Jail House.

Thomson/McDuffie County Jail House

Thomson/McDuffie County Jail House

About 10 minutes from the house. Swallow at the Hollow. 100% great Southern Bar-B-que.

Singer-song-writer showcase and Americana music…think ‘The Loft’ on satellite radio.

Swallow At The Hollow -Roswell, GA-

Swallow At The Hollow
-Roswell, GA-

Sir Richard Branson…see below.

Richard Branson -5 questions and a quote-

Richard Branson
-5 questions and a quote-

I cannot for the life of me find the ’5 Questions’ Branson published. The questions suitable for a job applicant or the applicant to the employer… Quotes below.

‘Why a business plan is only as good as one’s first contact with a customer’.

‘What do you need to take on a giant & win? Nothing but bravery, good people & a great idea’.

‘If somebody asks why are you looking up at the sky, ask them why they aren’t looking up at the stars’.

First ‘ floor-mat’ joke of your day??

Floor Mat

Floor Mat

Dockerys restaurant closed this year and it happened sooner than later. I’m here with the lady who brought me my last meal. She had always been the best.. During the goodbyes I managed to take some pictures of the people who I shared the establishment with over the years but never held a conversation.

She and I

She and I

 

I found a great sit back with a cup of coffee on a rainy Sunday afternoon. With this piece thirty minute read is too short, great article nevertheless.  Don’t let the title fool you into believing its a ‘government/political statement from the State department. It more and provocative in the light of the reality. Families apart and separated physically and emotionally, divided by juxtaposed societies and bound by their common culture.

THE ISLAND OF STOPPED CLOCKS: INSIDE CUBA 50 YEARS AFTER THE REVOLUTION

THE ISLAND OF STOPPED CLOCKS: INSIDE CUBA 50 YEARS AFTER THE REVOLUTION
BY JACKSON BLAIR
(What you cannot see on the video is how, over the course of the next few hours, Lesley realizes she’s lost the 25 years for good. That after all this time, the history they shared is too too faint or too slight to be recovered. Entering the terminal, she felt a brief but overwhelming sense of familiarity. But after the hugs and tears subsided she felt tentative and swept up by family in name only).

Leave em’ laughing I’ve been told….Lighter side of life.

-Why does Goofy stand upright and Pluto stand on all four feet? They’re both dogs.

-Do “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and “The Alphabet Song” have the same tune?

-On Gilligan’s Island, the professor could make a radio out of a coconut. Why couldn’t he fix the hole in the boat?

-If Wile E. Coyote has enough money to buy all that stuff from ACME, why doesn’t he just buy himself dinner?

Moby Dick
Elijah:
( Ye’ve shipped, have ye? Names down on papers? Well, what’s signed, is signed; and what’s to be, will be )

Mark Twain on the press:

“There are laws to protect the freedom of the press’s speech, but none that are worth anything to protect the people from the press.”

It seems to me that just in the ratio that our newspapers increase, our morals decay. The more newspapers the worse morals. Where we have one newspaper that does good, I think we have fifty that do harm. We ought to look upon the establishment of a newspaper of the average pattern in a virtuous village as a calamity.

Just really random stuff….

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Voyager 1…..Happy Birthday


Reading my e-mail this morning I came across article of enlightenment from ‘Brain Pickings‘ the online magazine of astonishing information, literature, the arts and entertainment.  In 1990 on this day Voyager I took a series of photographs from outside the Earths solar system distance of roughly 6 billion kilometers. Still operating today, March 2,2013 it was the brain child of Carl Sagan and his campaigning to capture a parting photograph of Earth. Voyager I was not expected to last much longer. Below is the picture entitled ‘Pale Blue Dot’ as well as the philosophical and literary discourse Dr. Sagan gave to you and I.

Seen from about 6 billion kilometers (3.7 billion miles), Earth appears as a tiny dot (the blueish-white speck approximately halfway down the brown band to the right) within the darkness of deep space

Seen from about 6 billion kilometers (3.7 billion miles), Earth appears as a tiny dot (the blueish-white speck approximately halfway down the brown band to the right) within the darkness of deep space

—Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space

From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Consider again that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ‘superstar,’ every ‘supreme leader,’ every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there — on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity — in all this vastness — there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known, so far, to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

bonus if you kept reading……

Which is more useful, the Sun or the Moon?” The Moon because the moon shines at night when you want the light, whereas the Sun shines during the day when you don’t need it.” 

 

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Martin Luther King 2013


 Monday, January 21, 2013

Beautiful day off from work and all because we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Weather is blue skies, mild temperatures, light breeze and blazing winter sunshine…good enough.

I dug out my pickup truck from the shop behind my home and we spent the balance of the day running errands. Retrieved my suit from the cleaners where I hugged Ms. H. goodbye. After a generation or two they have sold the business and the plant up the road from here. Shes sincerely old enough and carried the business for long enough, but it was sad and happy time. Cruised the ‘mall’ for winter sales and there are plenty in the clothing departments, just nothing useful for me now or later but I did spend sometime in the parking lot where a new cinema complex is being constructed inside the existing North Point Mall structure.

The movie house across the street @N. P. Mall is way out dated for the business, in a decade and a half, the size of the existing movie-house as well as the nature of viewing and projection equipment has changed. The new movie house is about 3 stories tall to fit the IMAX format and other mulit-venue viewing areas…’I hope I got the talking points close’. Hey I like to watch the big cranes and giant/giant size truck moving the building materials and such about…OK? It’s a guy thing.

Finally nailed a coffee @Starbucks last thing and got some notes put together, especially the opening quote below. The quote was on a Macy’s paid tribute to Dr. King and is tasteful (period). I just wanted to say something a bit ‘furthur up the road’ on Dr. King and his works and well to me and for me there are or is so much unfinished.

I chatted briefly with a retired gentleman in Canada, Francis Rupert Legge just last month, we have shared parts of our lives on FB and become ‘brothers’ and yes Francis we are. In his writings and a prolific writer he is Francis with his education from United States, Cambridge England, his skills Engineer/Physicist are a ‘great resume’ its his writings that should be preserved, maybe not all his opinions (insert lol). It was the day he mention coming to Atlanta to hookup with Dr. King at the old Hartsfield or Midfield airport and ready to head to Selma, Alabama. Speechless as I was I assure any and everyone Francis or Sir Francis as I call him is as so-many in taking little or no credit for being on Dr. Kings front-line as a ‘foot-soldier’, the honesty of those who followed Dr. Kings’ calling it was not then or now a social limelight. Sir Francis is opinionated and experienced and Francis Rupert Legge walked the walk with Dr. King, he saw the writing on the wall as that period of time was happening and sacrificed his time and life at that point and made the effort to come thousands of miles to be a part of the ‘Dream’. From my chats and writings with Francis he is sincere that he was happy to be there in thought, word and deed and that’s good enough for him..read below and for me it pales to what these men ‘Accomplished’.

 

 

MLK notes…

Dr. King Memorial

Dr. King Memorial

 Faith is taking the first step, even when you don’t see the whole staircase’.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

  I’ve come to a somewhat clueless point in a road “as to where” Dr. King would have continued his philosophical debates. More pointedly as he moved from “moral & social” agendas towards economic equality in the United States of America. Surely he was as aware as anyone of the overtones of Socialism was he not? Of “class systems and caste societies “?

Just a question or two that for me in the short or long run of a life or generation I believe promotes many people away from patronizing the good Doctor and his works. But maybe, just maybe questions will propel his works “forward” to someone who will continue his work.

Dr. King was nearly not finished and his work is neither. God only knows how much he gave to the world thru his actions, writings and nonviolent protest. Can we not give back a tithe of that? Can we not refresh his work and carry forward and sincerely “not” lip-service and regurgitate him, his life his family and all their sacrifices as history fades and the old solders who were there vanish?

History is best told by those who lived it not those, no matter how eloquently speak upon it……

Amen Dr. King…..Amen

ps….if I get any of the above ‘really wrong’, either  Sir Francis or Dr. King will nail me. I think I pretty much got the above just about right…

Francis R. Legge

Francis R. Legge

 McTell

From my i-phone

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November and a Post…….


“Repeat a lie regularly enough and it will soon become ranked with conventional truth…”

Francis Rupert Legge

 When the weather changes for real into Fall I’m reminded of living on the farm in the 90′s. The farmhouse and a couple of acres remained as the suburbs crept closer. In the back a acre of so of well tilled field, smokehouse/shed, two, three sided barns, one housed the grist mill. The mill was powered by rather large and rather loud tractor, sitting on cement blocks and a couple of flat tires. The belts she turned would be shifted to shell the dried corn from the cobs or turn the mill wheel. The leftover cornmeal dust on the floor always showed the tiniest mouse footprints, surprising considering the dozen feral cats living in the barns!

Around the middle of October, I’d be out digging up the rows of sweet potatoes below the terrace. Ripping out the vines by hand, rolling them into bundles tossed aside. I’d find myself excited as a kid on the way to a county fair. Digging out the tubers balances a fine line, ‘between the last rain and first frost’. Stacked they would lay in the field as I head back to the farmhouse in the evening twilight, putting away the hoes and shovel in the middle barn. Unfailingly my adopted cats would be sitting on the well-cover, together with out fail they would look at me, look at each other and at the same time hit the ground softly as one not three we’d go inside for the night. Winter, Spring, Summer an Fall this repeated itself hundreds of times and you know what? I simply never took one moment for granted. It was Heaven.

My soul was kick around a bit just last week from a vehicle accident bout a mile from where I’d lived on the farm. The road runs long and area is a refuge too deer and the coyotes, either of which I suspect as the ’cause’. Akshay, who did not survive the accident, received the Ferrari from his parents. I have lost some friends, brothers in a similar accident decades ago. The brothers are buried together behind the Augusta National golf course. It’s infrequent now that I stop in to pay my respects. Thirty years after I wonder what if it never happen and will always.

I cannot get enough of online literary magazine, The Rumpus.net with the musings of editor in chief Stephen Elliott. Whenever you find a free moment support them and check out ‘Letters in the Mail’, and ‘Letters for Kids’. The Rumpus.net has grown up quickly across the universal net of knowledge, literature, and the outlandish.

With that in mind I’ve been following Geoff Lemon from ‘down-under’ for several years. Similar to the above yet vastly different is “Going Down Swinging”.  I’ve been a follower of Geoff’s’ blog , “Heathen Scriptures” prior to the launch of GDS. Here is a link to a post from GDS that tugs me back often and I hope you also……The Blue Corner/Sometimes Poems…“Cold Was the Ground”.

Be well

I remain McTell…

 

 

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Lately I’ve been busy…..


I’m just about tired to death from the past few weeks. Lots of changes in the neighborhood. If the video will work I promise a blog. . . something with a bit more content…in just another day or two and have tons of stuff packed away and yeah I’m sure I’ll regret @some point whether I pedal it or not an such is my life…god I miss the Daily Rumpus..

Posted in Daily Life

Touch of Early Autumn


Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each. .
~Henry David Thoreau~

Best to publish something/anything to prevent @McTells Place from being doa or placed on διάλυσις/dialysis.  Early and lingering touch of Autumn all about. The night time temperatures nearing the 40′s with middle 80′s later afternoon…yet step into the shade and the feeling of Fall is present.  Posting a music video fitting for the seasonal weather. Written by Jackson Brown in 1967.  Recorded by the likes of Glen Campbell who did a knockout rendering with a bit of additional arranging.  Jackson gave credit years ago to a rewriting of the final lyrics according to a interview in Austin Texas that is impossible to retrieve by another artist he had know in their earlier songwriting years……...’ unlocked a power in that song that I sort of then emulated in my version’. see below

‘ll keep on moving
Things are bound to be improving these days
These days–
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten, my friend
Don’t confront me with my failures / I had not forgotten them
/\
“Please don’t confront me with my failures / I’m aware of them.”

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mctell2:

Great writing from Red writing Hood…take a look…

Originally posted on Gone for a Walk:

Write On Edge: Red-Writing-Hood

It’s Red Writing Hood again!  Write on Edge offered up this challenge for the week:

A stand-alone scene, fiction or memoir, in 500 words or less, involving a handwritten letter.

Link up your own story, or go on over to see what everyone else has come up with.  Concrit is always welcome.

I missed the ‘stand alone’ part initially, and had to give up on the start of the first piece I was writing, connected to one of my other story pieces.  And then, mysteriously, I couldn’t shake the idea of Peter Pan.  In a tree.  I’ve been reading the Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica series recently, by James A. Owen, which I suspect is a very strong factor in this sudden fixation.  And, in case you were wondering, yes, you should definitely read that series.  Also, I really wish I could illustrate my own stories.  The man has talent. …

View original 577 more words

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XXVII fortnights have passed………


It is here the background begins as too ‘why’ thee Crimson Court convenes..

There was a small kingdom within a kingdom and it was there a most productive, well ordered and progressive village did grow. Many a generation all did thrive. The women bore their children, the men fought in wars when called upon to defend their good and dignified town and in turn their kingdom. No-one of conquered lands would call these fine citizens imperialist. Their fields were prosperous and productive. All was not perfect in the small town nor wrong nor bad. The ‘torch’ of knowledge was passed accordingly from the elders to the next younger generation and only when thee generation had earned knowingly and accordingly the lessons of life, some achieving higher stations obviously than others. Lessons were hard earned and oral history passed to the next,  much like the boot-maker or artesian who from apprenticeship to journeyman toiled for the day his shingle is hung to pronounce to all ‘craftsman’.

 Do not be misled that the lessons from the elders and knowledge gained to be accepted as an elder is or ever will be as simple as the craftsman. His ‘will’ to be the judge and jury, King or executioner, forever carrying the burden of self sacrifice, decision making with a most voluntary introspective penitence to be fair, right and final in any and all conflict of dogma. Indeed every decision follows him to the grave and accordingly beyond. And it is to the beyond his life has answered too and conferred with since birth. Sadly found in all land of plenty and good will be those who find a village or kingdom is but a natural resource they reave too quietly rape!

 When those ‘said forth summoned’ do arrived to be judged, be ye man or woman and thee forced or misled to assist with infecting the ‘essential structures’ of the villages’ and kingdoms’ dogma with blacken skepticism.  Let it be noted now…. Some will have hands empty of the wrong they have done.  Others  yes they will possess vast canyons of arrogance, ‘intelligent practice’ with grey cloud of pragmatism.  Be not caught off guard when indeed they lay claim to the darkness of their history.  They among themselves have written their history to serve only to elevate and serve a very dark and ignoble deed of greed and I do submit as wrong. 

“This I Have Written”

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Convene the Crimson Court…


Adventum “aurata Wren” signa iudicio Tx3 in Regnum RUFUS. Apparet quidem ut in curia est ad conveniri. Fiat scriptum. amen

Arrival of the “Gilded Wren” signals a verdict of Tx3 in the Kingdom of Crimson. Forthcoming indeed as the court is to be convened. Let it be written. Amen

Unfortunately, simplistic vindication seldom illuminates profound issues, hence the reliance of the weak upon myth.

Quote from “Sir Francis”

 

 

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Is there nothing I can do . . . . . .


First 5 bars

 We are always meditating on something, but we get to choose what.

When the subject or the personal or professionally interaction occurs where there is myself and a woman involved is there nothing I can do to better or more thoroughly understand the female’s mindset?  Nearly six decades into this life and the ever changing ever evolving opposite sex still remains to this individual the enigma dwarfing the construction of the pyramids of Egypt much less the concept of the Pythagorean Theorem.  I not sure but the feeling is this blog is about women simply because you remain to this day the mysterious one of all to me it seems you the female are never alone no matter where you are and seemingly never lost or at a loss.

Just this past week I head up to Dockerys’ here in-town for the weekly treat of eating a meal out of the house and in a café. The lunch menu as well as the breakfast has always been simple and good. Omelets, eggs, grits, biscuits for breakfast or the meat and two with tea and cornbread for lunch and maybe a desert. In the past few months since receiving a free iPhone I’ve developed the habit of copying articles and book chapters to notepad and forwarding them to my hot-mail account. Wherever I am I can open up a e-mail and read too my hearts content with out surfing the net. Two different letters I’d sent to my hot-mail account have kept me busy for a while. The first is EXPOSED By Emily Gould 05/08 where a argument with Jimmy Kimmel on CNN produced something of a life changing publication and provocative insight for Emily. The other and most exciting e-mail read is with Cheryl Strayed the writer whose career is looking like a NASA mission to the ISS.

At age 22 Cheryl having lost her mother age 45 to cancer having a marriage in taters and unable to find the correct energy to keep her family together bailed out into California to hike the PCT all 1100 miles from the desert to the mountains. Having never camped in the out of doors much less backpacked she did it. She did it thru every season available and the trials and pain, mental and physical. Admittedly and rightfully Cheryl realized the journey was not the answer to her troubling life but a benchmark to follow thru to where she is today. The adventure entitled * “Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail” immediately was optioned by Reese Witherspoon and Director Lisa Cholodenko will be at the helm with Cheryl on as associate producer.

Having walked up to Dockerys seating myself as the custom without looking up I muttered ‘unsweet tea’ to the waitress while scrolling up a read on the iPhone.  Better yet below the pictures is what I wrote down when I got back to the house after lunch…..

 

Chicken Lady of Alpharetta

Chicken Lady of Alpharetta

Beets..Okra..Chicken dumplings..cornbread

Lunch today the waitress brought me a tall glass of tea and a very short straw. When I mentioned to the waitress the fact my straw was a full couple of inches beneath the lip of the tea glass the waitress instructed me thus..

‘On the wall in the men’s-room is a roll of paper on the wall, write your complaint on the roll and we will see to it”!! The mood in the dining area changed to much better when the waitress returned with a short glass of tea and …a long straw asking me if I am happy now.  Got around to asking her name something I find difficult to do unless the ‘timing is correct’. With orders and conversations abounding during the lunch hour I waited until the cube-rats had thinned a bit.

15 minutes later she sat down at a side table rolling flatware into paper napkins with the pause in the air I simply asked ‘what’s your name?’.  Replying she said ‘just call me the Chicken Lady of Alpharetta’. I laughed or more so the chuckle mentioning if indeed I could use the name in this blog. ‘Make me famous and put in there I’m from ‘Mobile, Alabama’. Scooting back it my plate while sitting two tables apart we discussed the differences of Birmingham, Alabama from middle of the state to differences of lower and gulf coast Alabama.

Chicken Lady of Alpharetta said her grandmother’s side of the family was mostly from Louisiana and it was there she had spent half of her life.  Interestingly enough I felt she had a closer affection  ofLouisiana than Mobile. In fact she told me her grandmothers’ home on Dauphin Island, Alabama had been lost to a hurricane in the 60′s. Blown clean off the low lying island the structure floated on the ocean for three days becoming a hazard to navigation until it sank to the bottom. Her grandmother’s home was rebuilt on the tiny island. The latest word from the island Chicken Lady of Alpharetta told me of State Farm insurance company celebrating the last remaining tree on Dauphin Island being lost to a hurricane. Apparently the regular weather devastation of the homes on the island cause by falling trees had dug a hole in the company’s profit margin!!!

Found a e-mail from a special interest group I’d signed up with a few months ago over internet usage, freedom of speech, intellectual property, bandwidth, twitter and well just about all things internet. The subject at hand was the ongoing problems with Pinterest over property rights. Locally a woman with a Boudoir Photography company and Portrait Studio of the highest caliber had second thoughts from blog input. Too make a long story short after gnashing of teeth and fretting Kirsten Kowalski in her blog ‘ ddk’s blog ‘  deleted her work in Pinterest and it hurt her to do so. The viral input landed on the desk of Ben Silbermann owner and founder of Pinterest. For business purposes his site is the godsend for companies like K’s photography but and the but is large as always attorneys has spelled out the most ambiguous terms of usage and Kirsten spent a lot of time reading the ‘terms’ in order to be a good steward in using the site and had to delete her works. In the end Ben Silbermann firstly e-mailed to arrange a ‘call’ to see what the two of them could brainstorm in order to get K’s business back and to expand the business while protecting the artist work and his ‘terms of usage’.  There are some links if you care to look a bit deeper and check out ddk’s studio and blog.

With one foot in the door and one foot out something I though I’d never see and something I’d never considered. Singer, songwriter and artist Gregg Allman’s biography debuted at #2 on the New York Times best seller list.

My Cross to Bear #2

My hats off Mr. Allman and good health to you too. From the excerpts I seen of the book the cloak is removed allowing the life and times of him, his family and music to be laid out and available for viewing. I’ve not a clue as to the highs and lows but in the life of mine the highs will never equal the lows just maybe that’s what makes my life  so very real.

give a listen……..McTell

 

 

 

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