Dear Friends:
It has come to my attention that CNBC recently published a report on the ten worst states in which to live. Tennessee ranked as the worst state on the entire list.
Today I come to tell you this is not fake news. It is 100 percent true. Tennessee is the worst state in America and you shouldn’t move here. We’re full. Don’t come. Continue reading
Friends, it’s a slow week in Northeast Tennessee. I’m writing to you on what’s turned into the first day of my upcoming ten day “staycation,” where Dr. S, I and the kids do something that we’ve wanted to do for a very long time: sit on our asses and binge watch all the best offerings our TV can muster.
Not that we couldn’t do this some other week, I suppose. One of Dr. S’s most valued colleagues is taking a trip with her family to some place called Banff in Canada. I don’t know much about Banff other than the photos I’ve seen look really beautiful and I hope she has a fantastic time.
Personally, I wouldn’t visit Canada anytime soon. They’re hostile to folks like me up in the Great White North: assholes who love central air and cable television. Canadians focus too much on things like niceness, politeness and maple syrup. Continue reading
Dear Democrats in Maine:
Look, we can’t sugar coat things. You guys have a problem right now, and I want to help you fix it. With Graham Planter out of the Senate race now, y’all need to find someone on the double quick to take his spot challenging Susan Collins.
Allow me to throw my name into the ring for consideration.
Now I do have some drawbacks for the spot. For one, I don’t live in Maine. Second, the one thing I really care about in Maine are lobster rolls. I do love me some lobster rolls. Continue reading
It’s hot in Knoxville, and the AC at Seaton Castle isn’t cranking since the only outlet is being used by the another, more critical appliance, making it a bit too sultry for his usual deep Friday thoughts. Instead, an oldie but goodie from Mud Lick.
Sheriff Roy Templeton finally had a day off. He’d told Deputy Miranda, his second in command, to hold all calls for the day unless the matter was nothing short of an active shooter scenario. Settling into his easy chair, Mud Lick’s top cop prepared to open his copy of Peter Thiel’s “Zero to One” and finally let the tension in his shoulders and neck release.
That’s when a loud buzzing noise emanating from the kitchen threatened to severely damage Sheriff Roy’s calm.
“Arlene!” Sheriff Roy yelled from the living room. “What in tarnation is that blasted noise?”
“It’s the dishwasher,” Mrs. Templeton yelled back. “It just started doing this and I have no idea why!” Continue reading
I’m living in a strange fever dream, friends. I was told no one from overseas would want to come to America by our media. We’re too extreme, too loud, too—hell, everything’s just wrong with us if you listen for ten minutes to CNN or MSNOW.
And then all of these beautiful European visitors came to America and reminded us all this country is pretty fucking badass.
We’ve had the Scots take over Boston and damn near drink the town dry. This Freddy fella from Germany has renewed my love of the American South and dined with Ron DeSantis. And the Norweigans who try Chik-Fil-A’s “spicy chicken burger” swear they’re never going back. Continue reading
Prefatory Note: Enjoy this one from the archives this week, friends. Your humble humorist is currently attempting to navigate a professional software “update” that makes me want to pull my remaining hair out of my head.—CLS
It’s summer in Tennessee. That means the weather goes from barely tolerable at 7 AM to “Satan’s Front Porch” by 10. When the air outside is so muggy it feels like you’re breathing in chicken soup you really appreciate what makes this weather bearable: central air and iced tea.
Summer means the kids go from crazy busy schedules involving school to crazy busy schedules involving summer camps. My son has two field trips a week, for example. This means his special camp shirts need to be clean for those days. It also means he needs to actually locate those shirts as needed which is apparently a Herculean task for a nine year old.
One idea I had to ameliorate this problem was purchasing additional shirts in the same or similar color. Unfortunately the day-glo puke green is a rare find of which the camp director purchased East Tennessee’s remaining stock. So I have no other option than two extra loads of laundry per week. Joy.
At least there’s no horse manure involved. Last year for part of the summer he was in an equestrian camp that taught kids the virtue of manual labor. Specifically shoveling horse shit. I don’t know how that small boy handled such a large shovel but he did. He also came home smelling like Mr. Ed’s toilet and that smell’s hard to get out of clothes after a point.
We’re all getting excited as the family’s going on vacation at the end of the month. It’s our first cruise—to Alaska no less. I’m especially excited as I’ve never done a cruise before. It seems like my ideal travel situation. Stay on a boat, see the water, have food and drinks delivered poolside…I see little to dislike about any of this.
My son’s had people filling his head at camp about what to expect and it’s wildly unrealistic. Here’s an example of a conversation we had a few short days ago:
“Daddy are we taking our swimsuits on the cruise?”
“Yes, son. Why?”
leaps into air “The stories are true! There’s pools and waterslides on the boat!”
“Um, there’s a pool for sure.”
“And there’s probably buttons you push at the top of the waterslide so when you get to the bottom someone brings you ice cream and cotton candy!”
Shakes head
My daughter’s had one request for the year we’ve been planning this trip: whale watching. So we’re doing that on her birthday. Eat it, Mattel. We need none of your Barbie claptrap. My girl wants whales, so she’s getting whales. Even if I have to Ahab one of those fuckers and pull it aboard so she can study one up close.
There’s little fathers won’t do for their kids. Within reason. I’ll spear a whale but extra ice cream after dinner is out of the question. Sugar is bad for growing children.
Dr. S and I had a discussion about whether we’ll allow the kids to try the boat’s “Kids Club” activities. Her stance is they’re allowed to try it if we stay in the hot tub outside the Kids Club area in case there’s any issues.
“But sweetie surely there won’t be an issue with the Kids Club. They’ve got to have trained people in there working with the kids.”
“Cruise ship workers are one step above carnies. Do you want your children left with glorified carnies? It’s like you’re not even their father sometimes.”
This exchange got me thinking about how on my first trip to Disney World with my parents I’d been encouraged to go on a “Pirates of the Caribbean” overnight “Treasure Excursion” with Disney cast members. I was about my son’s age at the time and refused to stay anywhere overnight than in my hotel room. My parents grumbled but acceded to my tearful requests to stay with them. Had I not protested I could’ve ended up on the back of a milk carton.
At any rate the cruise will be a nice two weeks of not dealing with anyone’s problems and turning my brain off to just enjoy the flow of life. That’s got to be something we all do from time to time just to recharge—turn off your brain, quit worrying about what happened or will happen, and enjoy the present.
So if you’ve hung with me this far I hope you take some time to recharge by staying in the present moment and not worrying about the future. Unless you have to for work or something. Then just hang in there.
We’ll see you next week, everybody!
Ah, summer in East Tennessee is wondrous. Families pour into Gatlinburg and the Smoky Mountains for excursions to the National Parks, Splash Country and Dollywood. Concerts kick off in Knoxville with artists like Luke Combs selling out Neyland Stadium.
And in Pigeon Forge, shoppers comb the outlet malls for the best deals while attempting to avoid the stares of the coked-up Kangaroo Man.
If there’s an area where I consider myself a bit of an expert, it’s in grocery store etiquette. I’m the least offensive person in the grocery store. This is a point of pride for me.
My skills in this field developed, strangely enough, around the COVID years where everyone in the grocery business went batshit crazy attempting to control one’s behavior by posting arrows demanding one only traverse in a particular direction down an aisle to select food items for purchase. During these years I perfected my technique of getting in and out of a grocery store in less than three minutes from entrance to exit.
It probably saved my life on more than one occasion. Continue reading
Prefatory Note: My son is eleven. He is awesome in ways that would fill up this post describing. He’s also the reason I carry a notebook around as he’s prone to spouting off some very…interesting…statements. Enjoy a few—CLS
ON STAR WARS
“I feel like if Darth Vader held up a sign that said ‘Come to the Dark Side: We Have Free Cake and Pie,’ it would get him more attention than him talking about it all the time.”
ON BRUSHING TEETH
Excitedly “Daddy, look! I’m cleaning my skeleton!” Continue reading
This week I had to buy a new printer for my wife’s clinic as her old one bit the dust.
I’m not particularly upset about the loss of this printer. If we’re being completely honest, her staff tends to beat printers to death. It was repeatedly abused living in the back of an RV that regularly drove over bumpy roads. This is basically a ticking time bomb for printers. When they’re getting abused regularly, placed on inclines and doing shit that most household printers weren’t made for, then you’re probably going to see a high printer mortality rate.
Anyway, let me tell you what I had to do with this new printer. Continue reading
