Mahalo, as Hunter Thompson used to say. In this cruel year of our lord, 2009 spring has begun with water standing ankle deep in the low-lying areas around the Circle H Ranch up in good ole Hernando, MS. The Right Reverend Andrew Stoddard, shepherd of First United Methodist in Ripley assures me he has materials at hand in case we righteous folk need to start building an ark. I believe him. Andy has no reason to lie about these things.
How bout that beating Louisville dropped on Arizona, eh? Wow. Those kids are so doggone atheletic! What a beat down! It looked like a Harlem Globetrotters exhibition game toward the end, behind the back passing, clowning. whoah mama, what a rout.
My wife is a southside Louisville native and her family is split right down the middle, UK and UofL, kind of an Ole Miss / State thing in bluegrass state. This tournament, as for our house, we shall stand with Lousivlle.
I thought the “Christian Cinema” story wasn’t bad. Catches a real trend out there. I hope neither Greg Robbins, who’s a nice guy, nor Kirk Cameron, who I don’t know (but who my wife and Leslie Criss both agree is a “cutie”), takes offense to the little movie review I did in today’s paper. I figure that the 7 or 8 folks who read my section each week might get a laugh out of it. I thought it was good natured and harmless, and I wanted to convey that I think folks really should see both of these movies. I really liked them both. I think any movie that addresses the sad fact that half of all marriages today end in divorce deserves it props. Also, I admire “C Me Dance” for taking a bold stance on the reality of evil. We tend, today, to downplay the reality of evil, spiritualize it away. I think that’s wrong and the movie seems to agree with me.
Today I’m hunkered down with my laptop, a goodly supply of melba toast and pesto spread, and two cats sworn to defend me against all the world’s evil. I figure I’ll shrewdly rip the tops off three of four Cokes, read this week’s New Yorker, and watch a DVD of old Simpsons episodes. Maybe toward evening slide out on the porch, smoke a cigar, maybe eat a peanutbutter sandwich and write a letter to my old hero Barry Hannah who isn’t feeling so well these days and needs our prayers.
Derby, you know, is just around the corner, and today I’ll take a look at the possible field. Derby is a time for getting gussied up and preening around like a peacock, making irresponsible, impulse wagers with friends and generally pretending there are still such things as social grace and Southern hospitality.
I have “C Me Dance” and “Fireproof” still on loan from a good friend and I might even watch those two movies, again. It’s always neat to see something with Mississippi folk, and something filmed in the great state of Georgia, where I just left.
Aloha,
Galen