Archive for June, 2006

How To End A Long Work Week.

Any Friday work day, that comes at the end of a long, tiring week is made better by stopping off and getting a pedicure. That’s my Friday quote of the day, and you can use it, if’n you want to.

Fresh from the email, Sir Quacky has sent the link…

Fresh from the email, Sir Quacky has sent the link to a live, on camera interview with Mr. Smiff and Crew that was done during Fan Fair. Let me rephrase that. Mr. Smiff stands in the background, chewing his gum, giving his bluegrass/country music nod in agreement with everything the others say.

The American public will think Mr. Smiff, Danny and Dave have speech impediments or are mute or something. They NEVER get on interviews.

I wish they’d ask them some new questions.

More Graceland Memories

Dig if you will, the Young Sista Smiff and Older Sister reflecting in the reflection of the Kang’s Cee-Ment Pond.

I doubt we were thinking about Elvis here. I think it was a rare moment that the Collie Girls weren’t engaged in some sort of scuffle. “Quick! Take a picture!” Posted by Picasa

Graceland’s Spayshul Guest and Other Memories

I love the fact that Prime Minister Koizumi is a huge Elvis fan and I love our President for hauling him down to Memphis to see the Kang’s house.

I’m overdue for a Graceland visit myself. I’ve been there a number of times and I absolutely LOVE it. I love anything Elvis. Even though Priscilla tried to trash him and make us hate him in her lame autobiography, even though he was a freak, I love Elvis.

The first time I went to Graceland was in about 1970. I don’t have photos, but, I do have home movies. The Biffer and Elvis made aquaintance back in about 1954 in Houston when Dad booked him on some shows there. This was before he was The King, but, was rather The Hillbilly Cat and hillbilly he was, sho nuff. Anyway, we went by and Uncle Vester took us up on the grounds and there is film documentation of me playing where Lisa Marie herself played.

The next time we went was after he died. These pictures were made either right before or after the first or second anniversary. (Note to Sister-you look way cuter in these pictures than I did. I look like a little boy whose mother wanted a girl so bad so she dressed her kid up in this ugly, blue frock. Mom was looking hot in her headgear. What’s with the headgear? Sister was not happy that day. Good land, I have the same, evil smile on my face here that my kids give each other when one is in a bad mood and the other is making fun of it. Heh) ANYWAY, this was before the house was opened, but, you could stand in line for hours, walk up the driveway and walk by his grave.

I went again in 1983, not long after they started letting people in the house. I remember being so surprised with how small the house is. I mean, small in Elvis, King of Rock ‘N Roll, American Icon terms. I went another time in about ’87 and saw Aunt Delta taking her poodle out to potty.

Mr. Smiff and I went to Graceland on our honeymoon in December of 1989. The house decorated, as the Kang had it done, at Christmas was cool but that trip, what I remember most about it was that was the first time Mr. Smiff ever heard me fart. We only dated 6 months before we married and I had this horrendous gas around wedding time because I thought I was obese (size 8 is SO fat!) and had been drinking Slim Fast like it was going out of style. (That stuff gives ya gas, in case ya didn’t know) and that morning we were going to Elvis’, I let one slip and I was MORTIFIED. We got over that pretty quick and now is a main source of entertainment.

Back to the Kang….one of the things I like best about the whole Graceland tour is the airplanes and that big room that has all his clothes and trophies and stuff. The thing that got me is they had some of his tennis shoes and they were those Tretorn shoes that tennis players used to wear. They were about a size 11 or so and I remember looking at those and the shoes making me realize Elvis was a real person. He always seemed bigger than life in his capes and sideburns and what not but his shoes…the way they wrinkled from wear looked like the shoes in my Dad’s closet. He was a real guy. And here all these people come traipsin’ through his house, looking at his shoes. Kinda crazy when you think about it.

Oh well, I hope the Prime Minister has him a good time. Posted by Picasa

Mama Bear

I just about had to jerk a knot into a couple of kids last night. Surprisingly, it was not any of my own.

It was the last night of VBS/Crosstraining at the church. #2 participated in Basketball this week. They had a small group and he seemed to have a good time. One of his teenaged “coaches” (I use that term loosely) had absolutely no patience for #2. Beings I was the Picture Lady, I saw a lot and I saw this twit be short with #2 more than once. Because it was a church function and when I let loose on somebody, I tend to use language not becoming a Christian woman, I refrained from giving him a good cussing. He barely escaped a spew of obscenities about how he needed to be a little more patient with my kid. My kid sees nothing but good in people (except his sister). It was more than I could take. I know not everybody gets #2 though. Still. This teenaged shitwad had no business working with K-2nd graders if he had no more patience than that.

This other little boy was not as fortunate as the teenager. I watched the whole thing. Kids all over the gym floor, chaotic, last- night fun. A bigger kid walks up to #2, motions for him to come to him like he’s going to tell him a secret and then he yelled in his ear. #2 is highly sensitive to noises (goes with the ADHD) I grabbed hold of little shitmeister and frankly, don’t remember what I said to him about how it’s not polite to scream in smaller kids’ ears. He kept telling me he was sorry. “Tell him, not me”, I said, pointing to #2.

In defense of those who don’t “get” #2, he can be exhausting. He can be loud. But, he’s never mean to anybody. (Except his sister) Not a mean, hateful bone in that kid’s body. He doesn’t notice anybody’s skin color, shortcomings, whether they’re ugly or pretty….he thinks everybody is just plain swell.

I guess it’s time to get him in boxing or karate so he can defend himself against shitheeled kids like that.

Bluegrass Night at the Ryman

It looks like there are some tickets left for next Thursday’s Bluegrass Night at the Ryman with The Grascals and that guy they hired to close for them, Vince Gill. They aren’t as expensive as a lot of shows there and I guaran-tee it’ll be an entertaining evening.

You can get your tickets right here.

Afternoon Delight

Lunching with Busy Mom and CeeELCee, Rod Stewart, plus a guest appearance by Wonder Dawg and Mrs. Wonder Dawg, made for a most enjoyable lunchtime. Everytime I’ve been to the Mothership, it’s been good eatin’, but, today, it was extry good. That Dr. Funkenswine has a good scald on that barbecue, now. I partook in the ribs for the first time today and dang….make you want to slap yo mama.

Something extra, Dr. F didn’t even charge me for was the baptism by Diet Coke. My little take home souvenir.

I think Dr. Funkenswine needs him a little, midget straight man and his name should be Q-ferd. Kinda like Buford. That was random, wasn’t it?

Your First?

I was just telling my oh-so-young co-worker gals, Bonnie and Andrea about a song that Neil Young did on his “Everybody’s Rockin” cd of long ago called “Kinda Fond’a Wanda” and I relayed the lyrics.

Well, I went with Peggy Sue, tried Betty Lou (or something like that)
Had a date with Donna and Barbara Ann too
But I’m kinda fonda Wanda
Cause Wanda always wanna wanna wanna…

Got me thinking….that Everybody’s Rockin’ was probably the first cd I ever owned. I got it in 1987 when cd’s were still kinda new. A couple others I got around that same time were Ricky Skaggs’ Love’s Gonna Get You, The Best of Janis Joplin and The Best of Otis Redding.

Do you remember what your first cd was? Post vinyl..mid-cassette??
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We Love Us Some Mothership

My pal, Steve, has done this most excellent video blog on the Mothership. Go see it.

Uncle Ceece, and some others are meating today round about 11:30.

Adult Swimming

I have never claimed Mother of the Year status. I just want to say that and get that over with.

#1 Son loves Family Guy and sometimes #2 Son gets a peek at it. Ok, maybe I should be a little more like the Biffer and outlaw it in my house. (He didn’t let us watch Three’s Company or James at 15) It’s funny stuff. #2 especially likes it when they fart. He’s almost 8. That’s what 8 year old boys think is funny. The other, more suggestive things they say on there, he doesn’t know what they mean anyway.

I was doing some Adult Swimming last night, watched Family Guy and then that Robot Chicken came on. I didn’t realize that’s the show I was watching. I’ve heard #2 laugh about Robot Chicken but dumb me figured he was a long lost relative of Yosemite Sam or Sponge Bob. (There’s so many kids cartoons, I can’t keep up). Alls I have to say about Robot Chicken is that it was probably the funniest thing I’ve seen on tv in a long time. I’m talking pants wetting funny. Good stuff.
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No Pizza

So, the Sumner County School Board has decided that for birthday parties, reward days, and other special things, pizza parties and any kind of sweets can’t be consumed. This means that “healthy” snacks and treats will have to be served. I’m anxious to see what they come up with.

I hope they don’t ask me to send nothing for the “Holiday Party” or “Harvest Celebration.” If they do, I’m going to send them grass and leaves from my yard and we’ll see how that goes over.

So, it’s the school’s fault too many kids are fat? No parental responsibility here?

This ends my pseudo-political post for the month.

Friggin’ Idiot

I told y’all that I am the official photographer for our Bible School/Sports Camp at church this week. I have had the BEST time getting to walk around being the “Picture Lady” and have gotten some fantastic shots of all the goings on.

I took 250 pictures worth the last three nights, catching some great moments with all the chilluns learning football, softball, volleyball, soccer, cheerleading, chess and checkers (this team rocks!). I even took a great shot of Sunday evening’s amazing sunset and couldn’t have asked for a better shot of the sun going down beside the three crosses that adorn the top of the church….Coaches Relays, which have been some great and memorable moments…just capturing everything that’s been going on. You know, those priceless moments you can never pose? The Children’s Minister was saying how great it was I was doing this because whoever had the Photo Gig last year took maybe 10 pictures the whole week.

I was envisioning the grand Power Point presentation they will present the last night to show the parents and to run on Sunday for the congregation……..then………I thought I should try to get the date off the pictures, which was wrong.

“Oh…this is the ‘Format’ button. Maybe this will be the right button to hit (remember, I’m still a Film Camera Gal). I’ll hit this and remove the date from all these photographs that would make Sugarfused jealous.” (Not really)

Click.

Deleted…..every. Single. One. Of the 250 photographs. That I have spent the last three nights taking.

Nauseated doesn’t quite describe how I feel at this moment. What an idiot.

Letters, We Got Letters-The Burning Family Tie Question

From the mailbag:

Hi Sista,My parents were here to visit today. My dad is a big country music fan and a bit of a record collector/dealer, so of course when I asked him, he said he’d heard of your dad. But he wanted me to ask you if you have an aunt named Maggie (I think that’s the name he said) who was once married to Willie Nelson.Hope you’re having a great weekend!”

The Old Man had some interesting marriages/family ties that pre-dated me but are quite fascinating to me. He had such an interesting life with some wacky adventures. If I had a nickel for everytime I’ve been asked by music people if my mother was Shirley, I’d be a rich woman. I’m going to put all those burning questions to rest here and now and everybody’ll sleep well tonight.

By the time my sister and I came along, Dad had found Jesus and settled down to a fairly normal, suburban life. While I’m pleased with the spiritual inheritance Dad left me, he also, in his quest to be a Godly man, left me with some unanswered questions. These aren’t questions of any important nature that I must know in order to find peace. No…I’m just nosy and curious as a cat.

So, Dad was a handsome, young feller whose career in the Disc Jockey/Country Music world rose in the late 40’s, 50’s and 60’s. He was present for some rather monumental moments in Country Music history and enjoyed a very succesful radio career. He had him a couple wives before he ran into my mother on a street corner in Long Beach, CA. ( My mother loves to tell how she met her husband on a street corner…that hussy.) My mother had some issues, when we were growing up, and did not want us to know they were married before they met each other. Why? What’s the big secret here? Did she think it would devastate us? Hell, no! I love it. It is making for some good blogaterial and that’s whats important now, right?!?!?!

Anyway, his first wife was a singer named Margie Tillman. Margie went by the name “Little Marge” and was married to future Country Music Hall of Famer Floyd Tillman, with whom she had two sons. So, my dad was a hot young number in his early 20’s when he met the slightly older Marge. She was still married to Floyd and from what I’ve gathered these two played out Floyd’s classic “Slippin’ Around”. Marge divorced Floyd and married my dad. I’ve heard it said that Ernest Tubb wouldn’t speak to my dad for quite a number of years because of this. I don’t know what year they married or how long they were married. I have some recordings Dad and Marge recorded on Columbia records.

When I try to ask my dad’s living siblings about it, they seemingly have forgotten details about this Marge character. My cousin Sharon said she remembered she had big boobs and tiny feet. I can gather Marge was quite a pistol because Dad, in order to have some “alone” time, checked into the hospital and had a tonsillectomy. They divorced at some point in the 1950’s and oddly enough, Marge and her first husband Floyd Tillman remarried in the very latter years of her life. How interesting and quite sweet.

It’s Wife #2 that people ask if she was my mother. NO. Shirley Collie Nelson was not my mother. Dad hooked up with Shirley through their working on the Phillip Morris Country Music Show. Again, I don’t know exactly when they married.

Shirley was a singer from Missouri who also went by the name of Shirley Caddell. She was a cute little woman. She was paired with an unknown singer/songwriter on Liberty Records named Willie Nelson in the early 60’s. Shirley was one heckuva harmony singer. Maybe that’s why she and Willie Nelson could sing so well together. Willie isn’t easy to sing with because of his phrasing. Shirley didn’t have no problem with that though. Shirley and Willie were slipping around and one day, she told Dad she was going shopping and as he liked to tell later “30 years later and she still hasn’t come back yet.” Shirley became the second Mrs. Willie Nelson and Dad’s name appears in just about every book ever written about Willie when talking about his pre-fame days. I have some home movies of the Shirley Years and there is one clip where you see young, no bearded Willie coming out of a motel room. Heh. Sneaky Willie.

Everybody moved on with their lives and Dad and Willie remained friends. Willie did him a big favor and if I ever have the chance to meet him myself, I will personally thank him for if that little love affair didn’t commence, there might not be a Sista Smiff here to entertain you today.

Bet you money the reason George Jones wanted to talk to me was cause he wanted to ask “Is your mother Shirley??”

Boring

Every quarter or so, we have a Sales Conference. We sit. And sit. And sit. Bless them, they do what they can to make them fun and peppy. Dog and Pony Shows aren’t fun, nor peppy. Every now and then I have to get up and move around, or else I will nod off and fall out of the chair and that would be most embarrassing.

Crosstraining

My church does a little different spin on Vacation Bible School. They do a sports camp, called Crosstrainers, where kids, from completed Kindergarten to 5th grade can pick the sport they want to participate in for the week (basketball, soccer, softball, football, cheerleading, hiking & nature and maybe there’s something else I’m forgetting). We open with a time of Praise & Worship in the gym and there’s also “Huddle Time”. #2 is doing Basketball (poor Coach) and The Beautiful Dawta is helping with the little ones doing arts and crafts.

Yours truly is the official “paparazzi” for the event. I get to walk around and take pictures of all the goings on and last night, which was the first night, was so fun. Perfect gig for an ADDer such as myself who gets bored sitting in one place too long. Hopefully, I can blog some pictures (with the church’s most nifty digital camera) later in the week.

Bluegrass Baptist Church is at 235 Indian Lake Blvd. in the happenin’ town of Hendersonville. If you live out that way and your kid is interested, come on out.