Useless Stuff
Since I posted Southern Bitch in a JukeBox Player, and it plays automatically, you are just going to have deal with that. Muting it is your prerogative.
I checked, you get a full play of the song, Cracker is good about that. However, the first five seconds of the song is NSFW.
Useless Stuff - Cracker
Does it really matter to you what I did with my time this weekend? Does the little details of my life concern you so much that you just come and check in? Darn I hope not. One thing that stuff like Facebook and Twitter has done is to compel people to broadcast to the world that they ain't doing a damn thing. Update Status: "I'm watching TV"..."I'm making my bed"...Nothing exciting and they have to tell you about it.
Someone once said to me that I put everything on this blog. No, I don't, didn't then, didn't while I was overseas, and I don't now. I don't think that was ever my intention. I dabbled with the sort-of-online-diary thing once but that would only be something to be misconstrued and be like begging or attention. As a result, this blog has been everything from a square dance to a mosh pit and will continue to do so. But, there are people out there so out of touch and self centered...Hence, hubris...That I will...Or is do a better word?..."Tell you about my life as a Citizen Soldier and my Appalachian roots." That is because to me, it's cultural survival.
I'm not going to talk about the Army. I would complain. Do you want to read me complaining? Which, reminds me I have something to take care of in the dreaded Defense Travel System...I'm not going to talk about it...I'd just complain.
What I will tell you though, is that I've had some long nights this weekend and last. Two nights in a row I trudged up the side of a mountain between the hours of 0100 and 0200, sweat pouring off of me, watching for snakes and all the long thinking how amazing it is that dogs can see so well in the pitch black. I turn my light off and can't see my hand in front of my face...Twister said to me once he didn't think the Jungle in Panama had too much on Laurel and Ivy thickets...The dogs are ahead barking nearly every breath. I catch mine, cross the rocks, make through the thicket and into the big timber. I could be at home asleep. I could be laid up with a gal. I could be hearing music. But, those Hounds put out a sweet sound.
God put us here with the intent we live out some adventures. That's one reason I love my dogs so much. It ain't self glory. It ain't all reflection either. It ain't a statement of a cause as it is a statement of the truth. It may not mean a hill of beans to you, but it does to me. That's all I'm saying.
It's training season and life is good.
The Appalachianist
I checked, you get a full play of the song, Cracker is good about that. However, the first five seconds of the song is NSFW.
Useless Stuff - Cracker
Does it really matter to you what I did with my time this weekend? Does the little details of my life concern you so much that you just come and check in? Darn I hope not. One thing that stuff like Facebook and Twitter has done is to compel people to broadcast to the world that they ain't doing a damn thing. Update Status: "I'm watching TV"..."I'm making my bed"...Nothing exciting and they have to tell you about it.
Someone once said to me that I put everything on this blog. No, I don't, didn't then, didn't while I was overseas, and I don't now. I don't think that was ever my intention. I dabbled with the sort-of-online-diary thing once but that would only be something to be misconstrued and be like begging or attention. As a result, this blog has been everything from a square dance to a mosh pit and will continue to do so. But, there are people out there so out of touch and self centered...Hence, hubris...That I will...Or is do a better word?..."Tell you about my life as a Citizen Soldier and my Appalachian roots." That is because to me, it's cultural survival.
I'm not going to talk about the Army. I would complain. Do you want to read me complaining? Which, reminds me I have something to take care of in the dreaded Defense Travel System...I'm not going to talk about it...I'd just complain.
What I will tell you though, is that I've had some long nights this weekend and last. Two nights in a row I trudged up the side of a mountain between the hours of 0100 and 0200, sweat pouring off of me, watching for snakes and all the long thinking how amazing it is that dogs can see so well in the pitch black. I turn my light off and can't see my hand in front of my face...Twister said to me once he didn't think the Jungle in Panama had too much on Laurel and Ivy thickets...The dogs are ahead barking nearly every breath. I catch mine, cross the rocks, make through the thicket and into the big timber. I could be at home asleep. I could be laid up with a gal. I could be hearing music. But, those Hounds put out a sweet sound.
God put us here with the intent we live out some adventures. That's one reason I love my dogs so much. It ain't self glory. It ain't all reflection either. It ain't a statement of a cause as it is a statement of the truth. It may not mean a hill of beans to you, but it does to me. That's all I'm saying.
It's training season and life is good.
The Appalachianist
posted by Hill Billy Rave | Sunday, September 13, 2009
7 Comments:
Thanks for saying it . . . the passion of Woodrow Wilson Rawls in there and the hounds teach an important lesson of life we need to be reminded of . . . me especially . . . good post. Bill
Thanks, Bill. Was it Woodrow Rawls? I thought it was just Wilson Rawls. Which, by the way, I watched the movie here recently (Where The Red Fern Grows for you'll wondering what we are talking about). The one thing missing from that book is the Dogs getting on trash, or off game, which is what happened Friday night.
Rawls was born in 1913, I believe, the year that Woodrow Wilson was sworn in as President of the United States. Then, as now, the country was divided by politics and still reeling from the Panic of 1907. Some of the first legislation of that first year of Wilson in office created the Federal Reserve banking system still in existence. Rawls is an interesting man. During the Great Depression he left his family to ride the rails looking for work. He left home as a teenager because he knew his farm family was having such a hard time feeding him. He never lost his love of family, and it shows in his book. He seems to have been a deeply religious man. He was humble and to tell you how I feel about him . . . he was a hero. Bill
I hate it when you're cranky but I did have to laugh about your comment asking if we want to read you complaining and not sharing stories because it was just complaining because all you did was complain in here.
Soooo...being laid up with a gal doesn't produce as sweet of a sound as the hounds?! You must be doing something wrong. ;-)
Gosh, I'm glad I stopped here a bit....
You are so YOU!!
Never change!!
~janie
Well, it's like this. Whith the weather still warm here in the South, you have to run your Dogs at night. THey can smell the scent better in the cool and will not over heat. It's good to have a hint of a rib or two on them to keep them from getting hot. A REAL Bear Dog is risking it's life...For you. They deserve it.
If you want your Dogs to perform in the real season, you've got to get them out in the running season.
Murf, I did complain...
Janie, good to see you. I hope everything is well. And, my complaining didn't sound too much like complaining.
Bill, Woodrow Wilson shut down news papers for dissent. He was not a good President. People that complained about George W. Bush should know more of Woodrow Wilson. And now, dissent is called "racism", where as a year ago it was "unpatriotic". But, Rawls could spin a tale regardless of who he was named after.
Well, "Woody" as his second wife called him, was a baby when his daddy named him after the President. There is a gravestone in a graveyard in Fort Lawn, South Carolina, with Ben Tillman's name on it . . . Tillmon was only a governor and a US senator and is considered in a bad light today for his attidudes on race, but the men who received those names were little bittey babies . . . like my grandson is named Reginald . . . who in their right mind whould name a part-Choctaw . . . Reginald . . . why it is downright awful. It gets worse . . . Reginald Van Montgomery, III. A name like that should have a lot of money behind it . . . I am taking up collections. Your comments were right on . . . all parties seem to want power and are often afraid . . . times were, then as now, tumultuous. Now, as far as dogs go, how do you get them out of bed when your girlfriend shows up or who is howing or what . . . Murf got me confused. Now, remember what you have learned . . . you can't win and dogs will be dogs most of the time. ;>) Bill
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