A Hope in Hell

Hi, there.

With the recent events in Tucson being manipulated and bandied about by many a talking head I found something that inspired me. I found it in an article by Harry Knowles over at Aint It Cool News.

One paragraph struck me as truth, in particular:

"All of us need to be tolerant. For all the faiths that teach us to live a peaceful path, we sure don't practice it. Well, at least not when our hands touch a keyboard, or we talk on the radio & tv. We judge, instantly, immovably and with terrible furor. We inflate the situation, give fame & attention to a tragedy, that would best be served with silence."

Amen, brutha. There are many things that are holding us back as a species. Tolerance toward others is the key component in just about all of them.

It's probably one of the few times I actually agree with Sarah Palin. But then again, she's quoting Ronald Reagan.

"We must reject the idea that every time a law is broken, society is guilty rather than the lawbreaker. It's time to restore the American precept that each individual is accountable for his actions."

Again, Amen, brutha. This wasn't politcal. This nut chose to hurt people. People that knew him said he was a Nihilist, (say what you want about the tennants of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos) but he was a Narcissist. He didn't give two shits about social change. Not really. He was in his own world. And he was insane.

Harry attached the following video that he said helped him feel hope during such a sad and hopeless situation. I liked it and and decided to put it on THE LEEBO SHOW.

As skeptical as I am, I still believe in humanity.

As skeptical as I am.

Here's looking at you Natalie's!

(Figure NAT-1: Natalie has a big sign with her name on it. She also refers to your cheating wood.)

Perhaps it's only fitting that my first post of 2011 is all about Natalie's.

Natalie's is a wonderful place. Nestled snugly off of South Florida Avenue in Lakeland, it is a haven and hangout for a lot of folk, me included.

Natalie's, not by coincidence, is run by Natalie.

I used to go to school with her back in the day. Lakeland High School (LHS) Dreadnaught, Class of 83, thank you very much.

Flash back with me, won't you? Back to that most interesting of times, the 1980's.

We didn't talk much in High School, Nat and I. You see, she was an insanely beautiful and popular debutant. By contrast, I was a resident nerd who spent more time skipping class and partying under the bleachers than fraternizing with beautiful debutantes. Years later, reflecting upon that, I've come to the conclusion that this might have been bad planning on my part.

By using the word "debutant", I don't mean to imply that Natalie was stuck up or anything, quite the contrary. She once smiled and waved to me as some guys were stuffing me into a locker. (I've used that joke a hundred times but this is the first, and strangely enough, last time I've ever put it on the Internet.)

So, even though we weren't really friends in the high school days, I, like the rest of the male population at LHS, thought she was insanely beautiful, and my opinion on that particular point as not changed at all since then.

Flash forward, won't you? Several years later.

With Lakeland High School literally years in my rearview mirror, I spend my time wandering about the landscape looking for whatever the hell it is I'm looking for and can't find. During this pilgrimage, I walk into the only place in the universe that real men consider That Most Holy of Shrines. I refer, of course, to the cultural phenomenon that is Hooters.

As I sit at the bar and try to figure it all out (a practice I still employ and have not really gotten any better at with time), appearing there before me, in full Hooters uniform (if you consider that “full”), is Natalie.

I consider this a good thing. Since Hooters’ inception, I have always believed that beautiful women look great in a Hooters uniform and my opinion on that particular point has not changed at all since then.

So, it was nice to be re-introduced to her at that time. Our conversations were regulated to the standard Hooters-girl-works-the-customer gimmicks, though. As I said before, we weren't exactly old friends from the High School days. It was the usual banter between waitress and customer.

She probably doesn’t remember those conversations. To be honest, I can’t remember them myself. I do know that, in my usual drunken state, I never wanted those conversations to seem like I was trying to pick her up, which, of course, I was. Me and everyone else in the place.

So, Nat's a Hooters chick, then later, a Hooters Manager. After her promotion, I immediately noticed that Hooters Managers wore more clothing. It might have been a promotion for her, but it was clearly a demotion for the rest of us.

Flash forward, won't you? Several more years.

There's this place off South Florida Avenue. No one has been able to make it work. It’s been a sports bar, a seafood place, etc., etc. It's been everything. Every place that has tried to do business there has met with failure and defeat. Kinda like the Dolphins this year.

Enter Natalie.

Natalie dreams. Nat wants her own place. She wants that place. That place on South Florida Avenue. The place no one else has made successful. She wants to make it work. She wants that place, a place where her friends and family and future friends and future family can go and hang out and have fun. She wants her name on the sign and she wants to run it her way. She wants to make some money. And she wants to wear more clothing. Clearly, a demotion for the rest of us.

Her and hers (By now, she has built a small armada of friends and family) set forth to achieve the goal. They negotiate and buy. They spend a lot of money. They sweat. They have fun, sometimes not. They work their asses off. They sacrifice and build.

Finally, Day One. Natalie's is born. There was much rejoicing. Or so I assume. I wasn't there.

Flash forward to a few days after Day One. It's not a request this time. You've read this far. You're invested.

With Lakeland High School literally decades in my rearview mirror, I spend my time wandering about the landscape looking for whatever the hell it is I'm looking for and can't find. I emerge dramatically from the smoke and fog and enter into the front door of Natalie's dream.

Actually, upon further review, it was the side door. I parked on the side.

(Figure NAT-2: The side of Natalie's. Not to be confused with inside of Natalie's.)

I had been in the building before when it was other things. I belly up to the bar and take a gander. Looked cool, but something was different. What was it? Oh yeah, there were people in the place. That was unusual. Most times I walked in that building it was empty. I'm not a business major, but I'm pretty sure having actual paying customers is a great way to stay in business.

Nat has people. Nat knows people. Those people know people. Nat's place has a great vibe. Word gets around. More people come. There is much rejoicing. At Nat's, there usually is.

Flash forward to now.

I said Natalie's has a great vibe. It does. "Vibe" really is the word that expresses it. You can't manufacture a vibe. It takes place naturally, based on the fun and personalities that inhabit the place. I truly think Nat’s has the best vibe of any place in Lakeland. That's why there are people in there.

Good food can be found there too. The Hutch pizza.... to die for. It's a simple menu, which is good. I don't need complicated food. I have enough complications in my life. Even my Dad liked the food. A compliment to the chef of somewhat galactic proportions.

The atmosphere at Natalie's is friendly. You can get a hug and a smile, usually from someone attractive, which helps. If you want a hug and a smile from someone unattractive, well, it can probably be arranged. They're accommodating, if nothing else.

Speaking of attractive, I would be totally remiss if I did not mention the stunning Natalie's Girls, a bevy of beauty and talent the like of which this town has rarely seen. They are magnificent and likeable, each and every lovely one of them. One of these days I'm going to get a picture of me with a shot of Crown surrounded by these sirens, but I can't figure out how to ask them without it sounding like I'm trying to pick up all of them, which of course, I am. Me and everyone else in the place.

That's the great part about Natalie's: they’ve not just created a great bar/restaurant, they’ve created a comfortable locale with a really great vibe, all waiting for you, just off South Florida Avenue. It is a unique and wonderful thing.

It's a haven, an oasis, a speakeasy, a happening, a gathering, a hangout.... It's all that and more. How great is it? Her employees (and her) hang out there in their off hours. That fact alone speaks volumes about the place and outclasses other corporate, soulless places by leaps and bounds.

One of my best friends said to me once "Only Natalie could have pulled this off." And while I surmise Kenny might have helped a little, I believe that.

I like hanging out at there. And even though Natalie and I didn't talk much in High School, we talk now like old friends from those days. Which, of course, we are.

(Figure NAT-3: Nat knows if she takes a picture with me, I'll leave her the hell alone.)

Last and certainly not least, I bestow my ultimate compliment to Natalie's. And I don't mean the ZETA7 tag hanging in the place, which in and of itself is pretty dang cool.

Figure NAT-4: We miss you, ZETA7....

See…Natalie's has THE DANK. It has The Dank IN SPADES.

And those who know me know how much I love The Dank. And those that don't know what The Dank is should probably click here and get educated.

This post got a little long-winded, but I feel kind of passionate about Natalie's. I hope it outlasts us all.

Perhaps it's only fitting that my first post of 2011 is all about Natalie's. Because I love the joint. I plan on drinking a LOT of Crown there this year.

So, Natalie, stock up, my friend. A fellow Dreadnaught is thirsty, and we can't have that, can we?

Cheers.

Happy New Year!

(This shot of The Tardis also acts as a random shot of a spaceship.)


Happy New Year.

I'm spending it making people angry. I had a lot of offers to do a lot of things this year. I'd like to do all of them. I'm doing none of them.

I'm spending the evening partying in my apartment drinking Crown and watching a Doctor Who marathon on BBC America. It's so pathetic, yet I'm strangely happy.

I've been watching so much Doctor Who I can't look at a Port-A-Potty anymore and not see The Tardis. It's all such delicious British nonsense. I love it. It's serious Sci-Fi drama for those who don't take their Sci-Fi drama too seriously.

I don't feel like going out this year. With all of the events that have happened to me in 2010.... well, I'm just content to let the year go away quietly.

I don't feel like celebrating. Maybe it's because of Mom's passing that I don't want to celebrate 2010. It just doesn't seem.... appropriate.

I hope everyone understands. Ah, who am I kidding. Nobody's going to understand.

I'll field the heat coming my way from those I love. It's not personal. It's just... personal.

So, I plan to spend the evening partying in my apartment drinking Crown and watching a Doctor Who marathon on BBC America, and occasionally, maybe putting some things up here on this here blog here. During commercials, of course.

It's pathetic. Yet I'm strangely happy.


Happy New Year. Good luck.

Merry Christmas to all!

Merry Christmas, everybody.

Let's get 2010 over with, shall we?

A Modern Man by the Great George Carlin

I'm a modern man
A man for the millennium
Digital and smoke free

A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist
Politically anatomically and ecologically incorrect

I've been uplinked and downloaded
I've been inputted and outsourced
I know the upside of downsizing
I know the downside of upgrading

I'm a high tech lowlife
A cutting edge state-of-the-art bicoastal multitasker
And I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond

I'm new wave but I'm old school
And my inner child is outward bound

I'm a hot wired heat seeking warm hearted cool customer
Voice activated and biodegradable

I interface from a database
And my database is in cyberspace
So I'm interactive
I'm hyperactive
And from time-to-time
I'm radioactive

Behind the eight ball
Ahead of the curve
Riding the wave
Dodging a bullet
Pushing the envelope

I'm on point
On task
On message
And off drugs
I got no need for coke and speed
I got no urge to binge and purge

I'm in the moment
On the edge
Over the top
But under the radar

A high concept
Low profile
Medium range ballistic missionary
A street-wise smart bomb
A top gun bottom feeder

I wear power ties
I tell power lies
I take power naps
I run victory laps

I'm a totally ongoing big foot slam dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach
A raging workaholic
A working rageaholic
Out of rehab
And in denial

I got a personal trainer
A personal shopper
A personal assistant
And a personal agenda

You can't shut me up
You can't dumb me down
'Cause I'm tireless
And I'm wireless
I'm an alpha male on beta blockers

I'm a non-believer and an over-achiever
Laid back but fashion forward

Up front
Down home
Low rent
High maintenance

Super size
Long lasting
High definition
Fast acting
Oven ready
And built to last

I'm a hands on
Footloose
Knee jerk
Head case

Prematurely post-traumatic
And I have a love child who sends me hate mail

But I'm feeling
I'm caring
I'm healing
I'm sharing
A supportive bonding nurturing primary care giver

My output is down
But my income is up
I take a short position on the long bond
And my revenue stream has its own cash flow

I read junk mail
I eat junk food
I buy junk bonds
I watch trash sports

I'm gender specific
Capital intensive
User friendly
And lactose intolerant

I like rough sex...
I like rough sex
I like tough love
I use the f word in my email
And the software on my hard drive is hard core, no soft porn

I bought a microwave at a mini mall
I bought a mini van in a mega store
I eat fast food in the slow lane

I'm toll free
Bite sized
Ready to wear
And I come in all sizes

A fully equipped
Factory authorized
Hospital tested
Clinically proven
Scientifically formulated medical miracle

I've been pre-washed
Pre-cooked
Pre-heated
Pre-screened
Pre-approved
Pre-packaged
Post-dated
Freeze-dried
Double-wrapped
Vacuum-packed
And I have an unlimited broadband capacity

I'm a rude dude
But I'm the real deal
Lean and mean
Cocked, locked and ready to rock
Rough tough and hard to bluff

I take it slow
I go with the flow
I ride with the tide
I got glide in my stride

Drivin' and movin'
Sailin' and spinnin'
Jivin' and groovin'
Wailin' and winnin'

I don't snooze
So I don't lose
I keep the pedal to the metal
And the rubber on the road

I party hearty
And lunch time is crunch time

I'm hanging in
There ain't no doubt
And I'm hanging tough
Over and out

©2006 George Carlin

Still Yet Even More Random Shots of Spaceships!

And who could forget the last batch of Random Shots of Spaceships for 2010?

Not me.

Behold, in all its glory, USS Enterprise 1701-D from STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION.

Click to embiggen.

That's right. You can embiggen.

Make it so.

Engage.

I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in...

The Dude has not been in.

Since I have returned home, I have, quite simply, been awash in a sea of work, friends, fun, and a White Russian or two. I make a mean Caucasian, Jackie.

This the most surreal year of my life. I'm stupified. Emotionally drained, man. At least it's an ethos.

I don't have much to say. Lotta things going on, lotta strands in the ol' Duder's head.

Some parts of this year have been a natural, zesty enterprise.

Some parts I entered a World of Pain. (Bereavement doesn't make us saps.)

Some parts, I won't say I was a hero... 'cause what's a hero?

Some parts we were looking for any promising leads.

Some parts they had us working in shifts.

Some parts peed on my fucking rug.

They peed on my fucking rug.

That's right, Dude... they peed on your fucking rug.

That rug really tied the room together, DID IT NOT.

Strikes and gutters, ups and downs. I guess that's just how the whole human comedy just keeps perpetuating itself.

My thinking about the case had been very uptight, but I see things clearer now.

A few more Caucasians should take care of that, though.

I'm just going to take this month on the blog after my long hiatus and post pics and stuff from this year. This really, surreal year.

Look in the review mirror. 2010. Look at the windshield. 2011.

I might have something to say on THE LEEBO SHOW later. I might not.

Just... take it easy, man.

I think I'll take it easy, too.

For all us sinners.

I don't know about you, but I take comfort in that.

Everything old is new again

As I type this, I sit.... alone in my room. It's 11:21 pm. I'm still up. Cool.

Most Sunday nights I would have had to pack for a week away, go to bed early, set my alarm for 4:30am, get a shower, load my car and drive 4 hours to Miami to go to work.

And I would work a full day. A full, usually late-night day. A frustrating, late-night day.

I'm thankful to report that I don't have to do that anymore.

I start my new and hopefully better gig tomorrow. And it's here, near my house. So if I work a frustrating late-night day at this gig, at least I have the opportunity to come home.

Home.

There's a lot I want to do. I want to finish the short story I was working on. I want to draw at my art board again. I want to catch up with some folk that have veered away. I want to drink beer at Natalie's. I want to be home. And I am.

Home.

New job.

New car.

New start.

New perspective - I have perspective I have never had now. It's good. Makes me a better guy.

AND... I beat the shit out of that alarm clock with a hammer.

It may not have been the most mature thing to have done.

And it probably doesn't make me a better guy.

But the symbolism of the end of that damn noise, combined with the satisfactory minor violence around it sure felt great.

Thank you, Great Maker, for those Miami days. Thank you, Great Maker, for these days at home.

Those Miami days are gone.

Gone-didddly-on.

Leebo's home.

Game on, neighborinos.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Change in the weather, change in the sea,

Come back baby, you'll find a change in me

Everybody, they ought to change sometime

Because sooner or later we have to go down in that lonesome ground.

I changed suits, I changed shirts,

I changed, baby, just to get shed of the dirt

Everybody, we ought to change sometime,

Because sooner or later we're going down in that lonesome ground.

I changed honey, I changed money,

I changed, people, just to keep from being funny

Everybody, they ought to change sometime,

Because sooner or later we're going down in that lonesome ground.

*******************************

Lyrics by Sleepy John Estes, but you should be hearing Eric Clapton singing it.

Sleepy John Estes was right. Things are coming down the horizon. Good things.

Soon I may have a new ride.

Soon I start a new gig.

Soon I'll be leaving Miami.

Soon I'm going to do a little life overhaul.

Soon I'm coming home.

I can't wait.

Soon.

TCB, baby.

Yeah.

Heh.

"Estes". :)

Tank you, boyce....

The Boys here are going to show me the man-love tonight.

They are going to show me how much they care and respect me as a person and an individual.

They are going to toast my friendship and hold me in the highest of all possible regard.

They are going to show me their inspiration, based soley upon how high they hold my ideals and standards.

They are going to show me a depth of comarderie that hasn't been seen since our boys at war fought the enemy in foxholes side-by-side with their comrades, using only bayonets and their own guile.

They are going to take me higher.

That's right.

We're going to Hooters.

Another round of Random Shots of Spaceships!

Today, we pay tribute to the last of the Babylon stations. One of my favorite shows EVER.

It was their last, best hope for peace... but it became something greater... their last best hope for victory.

Ladies, gentlemen, Garns and Centari... I present to you... BABYLON 5.

" No boom today. Boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow." - Ivonova


One of the best shows ever made. I salute you JMS. Well played, sir. Well played.

I will never buy another Blackberry Phone again and other thoughts

Figure Leebo-1: Three Great Bluesmen at BB King's in Orlando

Greetings from Leeboworld.

Haven't been on the blog in quite a while. Been wrapped up in me. Hey, that's just good wrapping.

Much has happened during my stay back home from Glorious Arkansas and my time back has been ok. I am hopeful of the future and feel that tomorrow just might be a telling day. Go Labor Day, that life-changing of all days.

Figure Leebo-2, Back at the Swamp thanks to C-lish.

I am struck by the fact that it has been one helluva year. Full of major highs and heart-breaking lows. I have rarely had a year like this one. And it's only September. Oh, crap.

Figure Leebo 3: I am standing on holy ground, the birthplace of rock n' roll.

One major positive this year was visiting Sun Records in Memphis. I cannot even decribe my feelings as I walked into the place, as I walked into the recording studio. I was standing in the shadow of the Immortals. Elvis. Johnny Cash. Jerry Lee. Carl. Roy. BB. Unbelievable.

Figure Leebo-4 : Standing on the exact spot Elvis stood, holding Elvis' micrphone. Unreal. Surreal.

I actually stood on the exact spot Elvis stood (the "x" tape is still on the floor) and held Elvis' microphone. My Mom would have been proud.

Unfortunately, all of my pics on my phone from the last year are gone. My media card on my brand new Blackberry shit the bed. I'm told that this is a common occurance.

I am pissed. Many photos of my journey I had yet to save were on there.

Gone. In the words of Ned Flanders, Gone-diddly-on.

I wanted a smart phone. The owner of my Company I work for talked me out of it. I will never buy a piece of shit Balckberry again.

Very frustrating.

But hey, tomorrow's Labor Day.

That most life-changing of all days.

Wait. What? Ummmmm.... yeah.....

Has it really been this long since I put something on the blog?

Wow.

I should really do something about that......

Believe in the power of INCEPTION

I have seen something I have not seen in a long time. A truly original movie.

INCEPTION, by Christopher Nolan, is quite simply, one of the finest movies I have ever seen in this or any other life.

Run, don't walk to see this.

More images from Arkansas: Leebo's Bluff

This is a part of the farm I call Leebo's Bluff.

I call it that because of a conversation I had with Jeremy.

I asked him what this part of the farm was called, and he told me that it had no name.

I told him that it should be called "Leebo's Bluff".

He accurately pointed out that this is not a bluff.

I told him "That's the bluff".

It was funnier in person, but not by much.

It probably should be called "Leebo's Rock" because I have talked to EVERYONE, from family to friends to co-workers to truck brokers to truck drivers to insurance agents.... I have talked to, and reflected upon, just about everyone and everything on that rock.

I think it is my favorite part of the farm.

I have thought a lot about my Mom here. This rock and I are companions in reflection, it and I.

This is a good place. I will remember it for the rest of my life.

Images from Gillam Farms, Judsonia, Arkansas

Images from my stay with some of the greatest people I will ever know. My friends at Gillam Farms, in Arkansas.

This face opens doors, baby.

Clay and Parker: COMEDY

Clay and Parker: TRAGEDY

This monstrosity was parked outside my hotel room one night. I believe it to be a recreation of Smokey cloning himslef and having a bizarre bear hug orgy.

They have had no rain here for six weeks and the average temps have been around 100 degrees F with the heat indexes reaching around 118F. The blackberry plants are not faring well.

My QC girl Kayla is a sweetie. She rocks. And she's a good girl.

Even though she's standing next to me.

The Ghost Who Sucked

ATTENTION WORLD: THIS IS NOT THE PHANTOM.

I have just watched SyFy Channel's new miniseries called "The Phantom". To say I did not like it is a galactic understatement.

I'd like to provide my review: This redition of The Phantom is a f-ing abortion and I deny its existance totally and completely.

I despise and loathe this. I hate every damn thing about it. From the shitty costume to the crap story. This rendition of THE PHANTOM totally and completely sucks.

To take a character I love as much as THE PHANTOM and sink it to these depths is the epitome of a miscarriage of source, story and character. These idiots do not get it. They had no business even being involved with Lee Falk's beloved character. They have no soul and no love for the source material what so ever. They suck. Forever. This crime is inexcusable.

With THE SPIRIT sucking ass, then this PHANTOM abomination, and then the oncoming onslaught that I see to be JONAH HEX, it is truly a Trifecta Of Shame.

3 great characters lobotomized by unfeeling Hollywood A-holes who have no grasp on what made them great (Though with Frank Miller, I do believe he knew what made THE SPIRIT great, he just completely, and mysteriously, misfired.).

This SyFy shit is not THE PHANTOM. IT IS NOT THE PHANTOM.

I'd like to repeat that, because it sounds fairly important:

THIS SHIT MINISERIES IS NOT THE PHANTOM.

F-you, SyFy Channel.

My hatred toward you right now is undying and will exceed my lifespan for eons upon eons.

This crap you have spent millions to produce is not THE PHANTOM.

Below is THE PHANTOM.





I wish a pox on all involved with this complete and total piece of garbage miniseries.

If it gets turned into a series I will have acheived a new disrespect for how truly stupid the public truly is. And believe me, that would be an impressive low.

F-you, SyFy, you completely and totally suck huge amounts of ass.

Random Shots of Spaceships!

For your viewing pleasure, from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, a really cool little kick-ass ship.

The U.S.S. Defiant!

Arkansas Blackberries Are My Life

Howdy.



I'm in Razorback country, by way of Tarheel country, by way of Gator country.



Confused? OK, I'm in Arkansas.



It's Father's Day and I am away from my Dad, yet I called and he seems reasonably OK with that. Perhaps that's the greatest gift I can give him: not being in the same state.


So, I sit in places like Gillam Ridge (see above) and hang out in the 108 degree heat, which makes a dry county even dryer. Not to worry, though, I still have plenty of Sheiner Bach beers and some Crown in my hotel fridge.



I haven't really documented my travels very well. That ends now. I want to take some pics of the great people here, my friends at Gillam Farms. I'll be posting more over the next few weeks.

After all, who would want to miss genius and beauty like this?

Random Act of Strangeness

Hi.

I'm currently in NC by way of Gator Country.

I don't really have much to say. I've just been taking things day by day.

This post is just going to some random stuff from my travels.

It will be more entertaining if you've been drinking.

The above illustration was actually in a bathroom stall at one of the blueberry farms I have been to.

See, some people are from poor countries where plumbing is scarce and they come to America to find that they are unused to the splendor and majesty that is the American sewer system.

They don't know that bullshit is what holds us together as a country and we know how to handle our massive surplus of crap by sending it through various tubes and pipes that go places most sensible people don't even want to think about.

Fortunately, some alert, sensible person created this job aid/procedure/process defintion.

God bless America.

I love JONAH HEX. I think he's a great character. They should make a movie out of him.

That is why I believe this movie will totally and completely suck.

See, I loved THE SPIRIT too.

At a little plce on the river.... that I think was called The Crab Shack....in Savannah, GA....in the parlance or our times...you can order a drink named after The Dude.

Far out, man.

This piece of crap that passes for art is in Wilmington, NC off the Cape Fear river.

Or... maybe I'm missing the point.

Nah. It's crap.

This chair should be mine. It rests in the sole liquor store for miles in Elizabethtown, NC.

There's a sign saying please don't sit in the chair. I really want to sit in that chair.

Mechanical picking at Lem's farm in NC, high above it all.

It was a whole new world up there. Plus, it made my ass vibrate. Groovy.

Soon, I leave the land of NC and Fat Tony's and go to rural Arkansas.

I would love to say my creative juices will be flowing there.

The beer certainly won't be, so maybe the creative juices will.

Or, maybe I'll drive 50 miles to go get some beer.

The Dude Abides.