Hiatus

I'm going on a grand hillbilly adventure for the next several weeks, during which time I hope to see at least one new (to me) mountain range. I'll give you all the details when I return. And don't think about breaking into my house because I have a very attentive neighbor AND a very territorial mockingbird watching it while I'm gone.

Quick, grab the camel rapid response manual!

Now here's something you don't hear about every day in WV: camel sits on woman, woman uses cell phone to dial 911. Not surprisingly, as this article notes, there is no "protocol" in Harrison County for responding to camel incidents. Oh yes, and did I mention that the incident took place in the Harrison County community of Bethlehem?

Fiddling...again...and I still smell smoke

If you're a believer of the "WVU & Marshall must meet on the football field for all to be right in the world" religion, then today and tomorrow will be happy days for you. I wish this grand announcement made my day, or that I gave a rat's arse about the athletic event that many have claimed residents of the state "deserve." Yes, here in WV, it seems, some believe, that we have a special unalienable right - the right to watch the Mountaineers and Thundering Herd face one another on the gridiron.

I should point out that I am a college football and college basketball fan, and I still do not care whether WVU and Marshall ever face each other - not in football, basketball, baseball, tennis, ping pong, chess, etc.

What I do care about is that this announcement is being made by the governor, at the state capitol. That transparent part of the story disgusts and exasperates me, but it doesn't surprise me. When schools join forces - as two educational institutions did last week - to do something like offer a new degree program, you're not going to find that announcement being made at the state capitol. Yes, I can figure out the difference in the two announcements. I just wish elected officials would take a slightly higher road when dealing with such things.

"Put out the good china, dear - the Lord's coming to dinner!"

From obit I read in a print newspaper over the weekend:
"_____ went to meet her Lord Thursday at the home of her son."

Rules of Neighborhood Etiquette

1) Always scoop your dog's poop.
2) After scooping the poop, throw it into the neighbor's yard.

Yes, that's the latest chapter in the never-ending saga of "I live near shockingly rude f-tards."

I'd long suspected this person was throwing poop into my yard, and tonight I saw him do it. It would only make sense, you know, since he also disposes of TRASH on my property. I suppose I should be thankful that this waste is biodegradable, but I'm not - I'm just more and more angry.

My friend suggested that I go over and speak to him about the situation, but I find that laughable. First of all, if I go over there, I'm just going to spew a string of expletives, including the obvious "sh*t." Second, how would that conversation go?

"Would you please not throw sh*t in my yard?"

"Oh, you don't like sh*t in your yard?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, then, I shall not throw any more sh*t in your yard."

Right. I'm sure some level-headed reasoning is all we need to straighten things out. People who throw sh*t, cigarette wrappers, newspapers (covered with sh*t), and entire bags of trash into their neighbors' yards are known for being amiable, reasonable people.

Finally, I'm not going over there because the guy scares me. I can't fathom being that rude. If he thinks it's perfectly acceptable to throw trash into the neighbors' yards, then, you know, he may just be a heartbeat away from becoming a serial killer or something. I'm afraid he'll sneak into my house at night, chop me into tiny pieces, and...well, throw me into the other neighbor's yard.

So maybe it wasn't so far out to speculate about what Jesus would drive...

because he is living right in Lost River, WV, and was denied a driver's license by the WV DMV. Well, not that Jesus Christ, but the one who used to live in DC and hasn't completed the process for an official name change.

My favorite part of this article is the last line: "Christ is not speaking to the press at this time." In this FoxNews/Associated Press version of the story (link courtesy of Chris in DE), it's stated that Christ bought property near Lost River "to enjoy a slower lifestyle."

Come on, Division of Tourism, I think you can do something with this for a new ad campaign, e.g. "Almost Heaven, Home of Jesus Christ" or "Come to West Virginia, home of Jesus Christ, for a divine weekend getaway."

Golden Horseshoe Day

Twenty years later, I still remember what I wore to Golden Horseshoe Day at the state capitol - navy blue pleated skirt, red blouse, and white jacket with navy blue trim (yeah, your classic patriotic look). It was that big of a deal to me. I hung onto that outfit for years just because of the good memory associated with it.

Mother's Day

Today on the CBS Sunday morning show, Ben Stein did a segment on his mother, and I found it very touching - yes, I, the bitter, hard-hearted hillbilly. His overall point was that many of us spend our younger years wishing our mothers would just leave us alone. Then, when the unthinkable happens and our mothers die (i.e. are "taken by the angels" or "go to be with Jesus"), we yearn for the caring and attention that only a mother can give.

Not too long ago, I was chatting with the Brooklyn Hillbilly. He was marveling at the job Bob Weaver does with the Hur Herald and commented that it had occurred to him that if my mother were still alive, she would probably enjoy doing that type of citizen journalism. It hadn't crossed my mind, but I had to agree. She died nearly 10 years ago, and even though Al Gore already had created the Internet at that time, it wasn't in practically every household as it is now. I think she would have really enjoyed all of the online genealogy information and just being able to find information about anything and everything. E-mail would have probably been a welcome connection to friends and family members, and I think she would have gotten a kick out of instant online publishing -- what writer can resist that temptation?

So, today I'm thinking about my mom surfing the Net and writing a caustic blog like none other. :)

Bob's back

Bob Brunner is back in WV, at WOAY in Oak Hill. I remember him from my younger days, when he was on WSAZ, one of the two stations we got on a somewhat regular basis.

Oh, those were the days...when my TV-viewing was at the mercy of our two antennas and atmospheric disturbances between the hardscrabble homeland and Charleston. But I remember seeing Bob often. I was a strange child: I watched the six o'clock news almost every night, and since it was from Charleston and Huntington (we did not get the much closer WTAP in Parkersburg), I grew up feeling more connected to the Kanawha valley than the Little Kanawha valley.

For a few years, we also had the luxury of having a third channel (13, WOWK). You can imagine how we struggled with the dizzying array of programming choices. Usually, whatever I wanted to watch was being pre-empted by a Kentucky or Marshall basketball game.

What's a good proofreader worth?

About $500,000 to a million dollars: State looks to correct mistakes etched in W.Va. Veterans Memorial

A win for the Hallmark lobby

The whir you hear off in the distance is not a plague of locusts, but the sound of greeting card companies firing up the presses following signing of monumental legislation that will no doubt pave the way for more casual, candid patient-doctor (or patient-health care provider) correspondence.

"Dear Grieving Family, Words cannot express my regret for misdiagnosing your Aunt Millie's tumor. While not common, pregnancy in an 85-year-old is not completely out of the realm of possibility."

or, perhaps

(with dreamy pastel flowers in background) "Dear Gentlepatient, I apologize for humming 'I Like Big Butts' during your annual physical."

According to the Charleston Gazette, HB 3174 "would prevent any expressions of apology, sympathy, or condolence by doctors or other health care providers from being considered as evidence of admission of liability in malpractice cases."

So, from now on, I'll be expecting written apologies - on very classy stationery - from all of my health care providers, and perhaps a rose or two on Valentine's Day.

Ramps limit?

No, we're not talking exit ramps, but ramps - the kind you eat and then they stay with you for days. Next year, our southern Appalachian neighbors in North Carolina will have to abide by new Forest Service rules on where and how to harvest ramps, not to mention a 50 cent per pound fee. Ramp collection in the Great Smoky Mountains was banned in 2002. Hmmmm, will the rules creep north?

The article refers to increasing demand for ramps by those living outside the mountain regions, and I find that interesting because for the last two years, I've noticed for the first time someone selling ramps along Route 14 near Mineral Wells in Wood County. Contrary to what you've been told about that area by the national press, it is not a mountainous region, and while I'm no botany expert, I don't think the climate is quite right for ramps. Before the roadside stand that cropped up last spring, I had heard of ramps only as part of WV lore, and only in hearing about the annual spring dinners that are held in Helvetia, Richwood, Elkins, and many other places in the mountains.