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. Continue reading →

I never thought I’d see the day when folks from the West Coast started getting the good sense  to flee that nightmarish part of the country for my beloved American South. And yet it keeps happening. It seemed to really take off during the pandemic when parts of my region embraced liberty while places like California prevented folks from eating outside unless the restaurant of their choosing had pricey outdoor air filters.

Personally, I’m not terribly thrilled at the influx of migrants to Tennessee and the surrounding states from places like California. One of the joys of country life is the lack of people. However, if you’re going to come here, I feel it incumbent upon me to provide you with some tips so some of you might learn the ropes and properly assimilate.

You’re welcome. Continue reading →

It may be hard for some SJ readers to believe, but there are good cops out there. While we often hear of those officers who process every encounter into a beating, shooting or tasing, there are many who actually take into account the considerations of the community and act accordingly.

One of my favorites was Deputy Dennis,* a Sheriff’s deputy I interacted with almost daily in my hometown during my first few years of practice.

Small town law is a strange bird. You’re expected to follow the “adversarial system” that pits the State against the individual, but there’s often times when you’re waiting on the DA to hear out your case or plea deal and you have nothing else to do but jaw with the cops or other lawyers in the room. Deputy Dennis was one of the fun ones to shoot the breeze with. If you wanted a good story, he was the first person to ask. Continue reading →

Note: The following was my proposed commencement speech for the 2024 class of the “People’s School of Gaza” at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. For some reason, the “faculty” declined my invitation to speak—CLS

Good afternoon. Before I begin, if everyone could please deactivate your explosive vests, remove your keffiyehs and silence your cell phones until commencement exercises conclude, that would be appreciated.

Also a brief housekeeping note: If anyone knows who spilled red paint all over the Student Union men’s bathroom, please invite them to clean that shit up. This isn’t a daycare and none of you are toddlers. Allegedly. Continue reading →

Sheriff Roy Templeton had a headache. The assembled group of adults before him hadn’t stopped yelling since he stepped into Principal Doreen Jessup’s office at Nick Saban Intermediate School and asked “What’s the problem?”

When the school called about a row involving some parents and teachers, Mud Lick’s head law enforcement officer decided he’d handle the incident personally. Roy Junior started at Saban Middle in the fall and Sheriff Roy thought getting a little positive face time with the principal of his son’s new school would be advantageous. Continue reading →

Sheriff Roy wondered if what he saw was part of some weird fever dream.

The sky above was white as a sheet of paper with no form or shape to anything. Same with the ground below. No scenery was visible. Just white everywhere.

In fact, the only thing more peculiar than the scenery was the young boy standing in front of the Sheriff. Approximately twelve, wearing corduroy pants, a green polka-dotted shirt and a red bow tie, the ginger haired child smiled at Sheriff Roy with a knowing smirk.

“Time,” the boy said, “is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.” Continue reading →

Good morning everyone! By the time most of you are reading this, I’ll be at Dollywood with the kids. Those roller coasters don’t ride themselves, y’know, and I got myself a good deal on Tiger Balm at Costco this week.

Anyway, it’s Good Friday according to the Christians, so why don’t we spend some time today with some sharp, pointy sticks and poke a nice, big theological bear?

If you’re not of the Christian faith, Easter is basically the Super Bowl of chocolate. Forget the game in this case; it’s all about the halftime show – Cadbury Eggs, Reese’s Bunnies, and those mysterious chocolate rabbits that multiply in your pantry. Seriously, I’ve got one that’s been breeding since 2017. I call him “Warren Buffet.” Continue reading →

“We should get season passes for Dollywood this year,” my wife tells me one afternoon. “If we go twice we’ve essentially justified using them.”

“Sounds lovely,” I said, “Let’s do it.” I thought at most we might get a discussion out of it, and maybe we’d even make plans to go some point later in the year. My daughter loves roller coasters and my son’s a huge fan of the park’s midway area so a Dollywood visit is almost a certainty when we’re deciding what to do during the year.

But season passes were different. Season passes meant we got free parking, food discounts and a slew of other benefits. It meant we were some of THOSE people who did fun things like go to damn amusement parks twice a week. Continue reading →

The following may or may not be based on a true story. You be the judge—CLS

DEAR DIARY,

Zaslav wants me to do this diary thing for the upcoming documentary they’re going to do for me on HBO Max, Max, VICE or whatever the hell it’s called now. I can’t stand this place anymore or these people and I want to leave so bad. But I’m being paid a stupid amount of money to work here with people who I hate and who hate me, so what does one do? Continue reading →

I want to begin by discussing a rather nasty rumor I heard spread regarding my whereabouts last week. Contrary to what’s discussed on the Twitter, I had been nowhere near a “tragic kiln explosion.” Hell, I don’t even know where one would find a kiln locally.

My absence was a bit less dramatic. I was sick. Not overly sick, mind you. That would be crass to discuss publicly. But suffice it to say for my current purposes I was less than my optimal self.

How I fell ill came down to one of two possible culprits. One’s eight and one is ten. My kids are truly the greatest joy of my life. I look at them and I see the possibility of the future reflected in their eyes. Continue reading →