I meant to write about this, uh, a month and a half ago. I was down in Jackson, Miss., for a business trip at The Clarion-Ledger, when I went across the street to get coffee and donuts at Scurlock‘s. I didn’t have cash on me and I wanted a dozen donuts (to ply my new business partners, of course) and a cup of coffee. The proprietor’s card machine was down, but instead of turning me…
I am in the hotel bar at the Marriott in downtown Jackson, Miss. There’s some sort of convention in town. I can tell because the bar and lobby is full of cackling middle-aged women and their severe hairdos. There’s a sweating bottle of white zinfandel on the bar and I can hear good-natured ribbing and knee-slapping and there is no way these people would ever be drunk together were they not here for work. They’d…
Up early this Saturday morning. Coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter while I wait on some biscuits to brown. I’ve got the sprinkler running out back, trying to soak the beds and save the flowers from scorching even further. I don’t know how to fight for them in this relentless bastard heat. I am feeling content at the moment — a delicious concoction inspired by the quiet before the total chaos of what is…
Asheville is the shit. Let’s just get that out of the way real quick. Because Asheville, for whatever reason, is one of those places that has flown completely under my radar. It wasn’t until I was trying to think of interesting places to visit on the last half of my pre-Christmas vacation that my pal Shane suggested it to me, since it’s so dang close to Gatlinburg (less than a two-hour drive). He said his…
I have had the worst writer’s block lately. We’re back in town and I have plenty of stories from the trip eastward — many that are downright insane — except I have no patience to sit and write for any length of time. In fact, I am allowing myself a lot of unnecessary anxiety over how and when I am going to sit down and get the trip stories out of me. I want to…
I like Asheville. A lot. We’re staying right downtown near a neat strip of bars and shops and a cute little park. Internet’s not working in the room, which is turning out to be kind of quite lovely. It’s nap time for me and the feller. Then maybe going out tonight. We’re keeping it low key.
Sometimes it’s 11 p.m. and the boy you’re smitten with emerges from the office, where he’s been studying, and says, “Want to go for a drive?” because he’s got to run some fancy magic juice through his gas tank so he can pass his emissions test in the morning. And that is how you will find yourself going east, east, east, and telling him to drive you past your very first Memphis apartment, which gives…
I don’t dabble in black and white photography much. These shots sort of make me want to do more.
The Japanese gardens, for me, are a study in texture, pattern, and light.
I love Memphis but I am tired of flat West Tennessee landscapes. I need drama in my horizons.
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