Appalachian Intellectual. To me that means plain thinking. I am A Non Commissioned Officer in the Army Reserves. Let me say...My views expressed here are mine and not those of The U.S. Army, Army Reserve or my fellow brethren in The National Guard. This is entirely Sua Sponte. This is My Thinking.
I'm single and in my mid 30's. Politicaly, I'm a Libertarian. (Again, Sua Sponte.I do not represent the Libertarian Party.)I love my native Appalachia, Rock n Roll and...I love God.
I started blogging for two reasons. I was concerned about the changes to the area I live in, Southern Appalachia and I was about to go to the war. I was in Iraq in 06 and 07 and now Kuwait in 11 and 12. Blogging was a means of documenting my experiences and hoping it would help gain clarity. I don't feel that way about it any more. It's said people write blogs because they are frustrated, that's why people read them too. That makes us sound apocalyptic. Are we? Let it be said, what I say here is of my own thinking. This is entirely Sua Sponte and not an official representation of the U.S. Military or the U.S. Government as a whole.
What is left of Faye has finally made it here. I looked down into the Forks of The French Broad two weeks ago and I asked God for rain. Here in Western North Carolina we've been feeling like Egypt in the Bible, with famines and plagues from our own demise. The Asheville Airport, loser to Arden than Asheville, is behind 11 inches and there is still a deficit from the last year. Down the river, at Marshal, it's said people can walk across the French Broad. That is the lowest it's been since the late 1800's. The last that I saw the Tuckaseegee and the Pigeon, they both were hurting as well.
But, rain is now falling, slowly getting back to our average annual rain fall of 80 inches. I'd fail if I lamented on how bad it is, so let me lament on the fact that it's raining. I know I'm nt the only to ask God fo rain, with a litte grace, he'll send us some more.
Take me to the speedway, drive me through the red clay, we're just going in circles everyday. It happened again. It's like a car race, everyone going nuts for someone that keeps going in circles. You, oh great Citizens of The United States, got gypped again.
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi. My girlfriend blows a boozy good-bye kiss. I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata. Then awakening to find my Trans-Am gone. Still, I'm feeling pretty good about the future. Yeah, everything is peaches but the cream. I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi, where things is always better than they seem. Things is always better than they seem. I see the guitar that my cousin played in prison, floating with the tv in the swimming pool. I'm calling for the owner of the motel, then noticing the bloodstain on the door. I'm reaching for the shoes under the bushes, just in time to hear the sirens sing. I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi, where things is always better than they seem. Things is always better than they seem. You know freedom's just a stupid superstition, 'cause life's a highway that you travel blind. It's true that having fun's a terminal addiction. What good is happiness, when it's just a state of mind? For in the prison of perpetual emotion, we're all shackled to the millstone of our dreams. Me, I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi, where things is always better than they seem. Things are always better than they seem.
Interesting point of veiw, Jim White... The Appalachianist
The Mystery of the MI-17s I went to a Family Reunion today, we ate allot of chicken. It was good. I was speaking with a cousin that used to fly Chinooks and he said he saw two MI-17's at the Asheville Airport. He said that he could see small "N numbers" on the tail. However, the FAA has not approved of the MI series helicopters, at least not to his knowledge. So, apparantly, my first instinct was right, MI-17. What these two MI-17 helicopters are about, I don't know. I'd love to get a flight on one.
Weening While in Iraq I almost got a flight on one, but didn't get around to it. At that time the Iraqis had not had them long and were mainly lapping Taji with them. After I had left I got word that the Iraqis had done some of their own resupply missions with them. That's a good thing. They could be hard to ween from dependance on others. Twang Speaking of good things, I don't care what Ed says, The Dexateens are one of the finest Southern Rock Bands in exsistance today. I tend to prefer them over Teshamingo. One reason I say this is, they are giving away a freebie. That's a good thing.
Weather Last week was a hot one. It doesn't bother me as much after standing in 130+ heat, but good ol' Southeastern humidity puts an accent on it. It cooled considerably this week. It was the upper 40's on one morning. Twice in the month of July it reached the upper 40's, both in the early part of them month and later part. On the 28th of June at 0900 I stood atop Black Balsam Knob (6200+ ft above Sea Level) with the wind gusting and it being cool enough it hurt my ears. The last two days I've heard Katydids in the middle of the day.
Like I said, we ate allot of chicken. The Appalachianist
This is an MI-9 Hip. Last night just before dark one flew over my house at tree top level. At first I thought it was an air ambulance, but once exposed I knew different. As I heard it coming something about the sound was different, but familiar. I was exposed to the MI-17 In Iraq and I have video footage of them. I thought for a while that it was an MI-17, but, after further reflection, I'm sure it was the MI-9.
Twister has caught a glimpse of it too, noting that it was white and blue. I saw a white underbelly and a hint of blue. He had it barreling at nearly full tilt. They are not as fast as our OH-60s and 53s, but can move pretty quick in their own right.
Speaking of Blue, that Blue Dog of mine is still in heat. Apparently she wasn't quite there yet. So, she's spending quite a bit of time in the Gulag.
The quickest helicopter I've seen, I'd say is the Brit's Puma. It can gain speed rather quickly. And, don't be fooled, the Chinook can move at speeds around 200MPH.
I don't know where this MI-9 came from baby, but it's blades moved round and round...The first person to figure out what lyrics I just mocked wins a free subscription to Appalachian Patria.
I live in the Quebec Community (pronounced: Kwee-Beck)of Transylvania County NC. It's a suburb of Rosman. It's centered around a curvy section of Hwy 64 and people here can count the places where someone died on it. Quebec is propped up against the Eastern Continental divide and some low but twisting mountains that guide various little creeks into the West Fork of the French Broad. Theres no glory here. A few convenience stores, and sprinkle of other services are all other than peoples lives. It's not simple nor is it complicated. It's complex in places...Places not being a physical location, but in it's cultural fabric as is so in all of Appalachia.
Quebec is one of those places that makes up the land beyond the Forks of the River, a common reference to anything west of Rosman. Places with foreign names, like Quebec, Gloucester (pronounced; Glaw-Stir) and over on the Tuckaseegee in Jackson County, Canada. How these places, all on the Southern exposure of the Balsam Range got such names I don't know. I always imagined it had to do with the Gloucester Lumber Company, that came to that name in a way that I don't know either. Though there is an answer out there, as I was growing up and being told of the way things once were...A key to the way they are now...That was something that never got said. Gloucester and Canada, but not so much Quebec make up broad areas with individual communities in them, hence a complexity. A reference to any could be broad, meaning any of the places that lay within it's boundaries.
Rosman served as a gateway to what lay beyond the Forks of the River, to include those parts that sat on the Atlantic side of the Devide, like Toxaway, Sapphire and Whitewater. Rosman was once the boom town of Transylvania fed by Lumber. Now it's an oddity of some houses, trailers, a couple of mom and pop restaurants, and convenience stores. It does possess more convenience with an auto parts, and beyond it nearly in Cherryfield a neatly stocked hardware/feed n seed store. Stores here can have a separate name, but it's known by the last name of whoever owns or once owned it no matter what. "Our Country Store" is owned by the Crow family and sometimes by a few called "Crow Mart", the BP Station in Quebec will forever be referred to as "Thorpe's", though opwned by someone else now. You see? It gets a little complex...And that goes for all of rural Transylvania. Rural Transylvania on the side of a mountain or sitting on the side of street corner in Brevard, a place that doesn't seem reflect rural Transylvania any more...At least not on the surface.
We Transylvanians can be an odd bunch, everything is changing at a whirlwind around us, and we hold to little things...And those little things matter. We like to think of it as simple, fearing the complicated things around us now, but it never was simple nad never will it be. It's complex. It's not wrong, it's not foolish. It's unique...And it's something to be proud of. That's something that I beleive goes for everyone around us too.
It's complex, but it's just that simple The Appalachianist