I found this an especially interesting topic due to the increase of what I call the me-me-media.  Everybody is just preaching to the choir on TV....to the right for Fox News, and to the left with CNN and MSNBC.

I'm trying to read the Economist more.  I like how it's more neutral politically, and isn't so American-centric.  I'm also trying to remember to look to Al-Jazeera more for a different perspective on the Middle East.  Mainly I get my news from Morning Edition on NPR, and headlines on the internet.

I actually got an e-mail from Arianna Huffington on what resources she used.  While Huffington Post definitely veers to the left, they do have a nice thorough list of different news sources, left, right and center, at the bottom of their home page in a turquoise box.  When I'm looking for some different perspectives, that's where I go.

I'm curious, gentle readers...where do you get YOUR news?

First off, which surprised me a bit, I was more upset about Farrah Fawcett than Michael Jackson.  This surprised me a bit as I was never really a fan of hers.  I realized what I was really mourning is she's one of the last of the Blonde Bombshells.  As one who goes as a blonde most years on Halloween, and invokes the sacred trinity of Monroe, Dietrich and Gabor, I had to at least salute Miss Farrah.

Then there's the other sacred trinity of Memphis, New Orleans and Detroit.  So have to say say say just a little bit about Mr. Jackson.  I feel like I always was a bit late to the party where he was concerned.  The night that the "Black and White" video debuted, for some reason, probably an assignment due the next day, I missed the cool people of different races morphing part of the video, and instead came in for the last part where he grabbed his crotch and smashed up a car.  I've always kind of felt with Michael Jackson that I showed up right when things started to get scary.

"Thriller" was one of, if not THE first video I saw on MTV.  I was 7.  At the time, as we didn't watch MTV at home, I felt like I was being REALLY naughty and rebellious.  (That's right.  I'm bad, sha-mo.)  I am amazed that with my hyperactive imagination...that gave me nightmares from Scooby Do, and even the occasional sit-com...."Thriller" didn't affect me like that.  Maybe it was because of the singing and dancing.  Really ultimately the scariest aspect of that video for me was Michael Jackson himself.  Still is.

I was older when I started to pay attention to his other work.  His appearance as the Scarecrow in "The Wiz"....and of course, his work in The Jackson 5.  "I Want You Back" is easily my favorite of his songs.  I find it hard to reconcile that dynamic child singer with the ghostly figure in the surgical mask.  Once when my mom and I were discussing John Lennon, she commented that yes he had a hard life, but it was probably better than it would have been if he had stayed in Liverpool.  I wonder if that's the case with Michael Jackson.  Gary, Indiana is a pretty nasty place.....but the avalanche of dysfunction partially fueled by wealth and fame seemed to aggravate an already messed up situation.  The maternal part of me reacts the way it always does to stories of abused children.  (Even if the child in question is older than I am.)  I have the urge to go back in time, punch out the abusers, and take the child home with me.    That not being an option *raises a glass in a toast* Michael, here's hoping the next world is kinder to you than this one was.

I love to revisit movies, TV shows and other things from my youth that I loved to see how well they did or didn't hold up.  Mixed results of course, but most of them can fit into about 3 different categories.

1. Ugh!  Whatever Did I See In THAT?

When I was in high school, one of the local bookstores began having monthly poetry readings.  It was a combination of people reading their own work, and reading the work of others.  Only thing I remember reading myself was "To the Unknown Citizen" by W.H. Auden.  One night, a man came in who bore a strong resemblance to Colonel Sanders.  Most of his poems were about American History.  I particularly liked one about "the grunt workers."  I also liked his romantic poems. 

Colonel Sanders was a successful enough local poet that he had a volume of his poetry at the Mead Public Library.  As I knew I wouldn't be able to buy his poems anywhere else, I photocopied the entire book.

Over the years, I wrote quite a bit of poetry myself.  Even though I write primarily essays now, the genre means a lot to me.  You can always tell a writer that started out as a poet by how carefully they select their words...and stuff.  (Sherman Alexie is a classic example.  When his words do what he wants them to, he always pays them extra.)  I was sorting through some boxes, and I found the copy of Colonel Sanders poetry.  I was a little disappointed.  The poems that had seemed so romantic, now just seemed clumsy and formulaic.  "And if it were raining, we would go under a blanket, and make love.  And if it were warm we would lie on the beach, and make love..."  etc. etc.  I thought "Gee, I've written better poems than THIS."  Still....Colonel Sanders was the sort of writing I needed to see at the time, to encourage me to write my own.  So I still appreciate the man even if I no longer appreciate his work.

2. Hahaha!  This is terrible!  But I still love it because I loved it then...

As most of you have probably guessed, my sister and I have very little in common besides DNA.  Once in a blue moon we'd stumble across something we BOTH really really liked.  When I was in 4th grade, the latest movie for HBO to play repeatedly was a Glenn Close movie called "Maxie."  Glenn Close plays a mousy diocesan secretary.  Mandy Patinkin is a librarian. Ruth Gordon is their feisty landlady.  Glenn Close's character gets possessed by the spirit of a party girl actress from the 20's, who was in one little movie, but died right before she was going to become a star.

Rewatching it.....it is a TERRIBLE movie.  The sort of movie I would haul out on a Crappy Movie Night for a "What are THOSE good actors doing in this terrible movie?"  (See also: the 2000 version of "Godzilla."  Great actors, lousy movie!)  I was also surprised just how many sex scenes there were in the movie.  One scene Glenn Close as Maxie is trying to get Mandy Patinkin into bed with her.  She's chasing him around the bedroom giggling.  At the time, I thought she was just chasing him for the sheer fun of chasing him...as that's something my sister would do.  I also suspect that my family was one of the only ones at a screening of "Princess Bride" to say "Hey, that's the guy from 'Maxie!'" when Inigo Montoya first graces the screen.

3. This is as good as I remember!  Better even, because I can appreciate it in more depth!

When I was in elementary school, there was an organization called Theatre in the Park.  A group of high school students would perform their versions of various fairy tales in local playgrounds and parks around the city.  One year they did a show called "The Superheroes Save Sheboygan."  Basically a bunch of supervillains, including the Joker and the Riddler, hatch a dastardly plot in Sheboygan.  A bunch of Superheroes, including Superman, Batman and Spiderman, unite together to save the day.  I wish I could remember more...but only thing I really remember is the distinctive sound of my father laughing through the whole thing.  He's always a good one to have in your audience for a comedy.  Throughout my childhood, I viewed the people that were in that play as a sort of superhero themselves, because I wanted to be onstage too.

Years later I became friends with a few of the people that were in the show.  Initially it was kind of strange.  Picture whoever your childhood idol was...and then picture hanging out with them on a regular basis.  Eventually, I got over the weirdness.  Although with one, even though we've been friends for years, whenever we get together, the 6 year old part of my brain starts yelling: "BATMAAAAAAAAN!  BATMANBATMANBATMANBATMANBATMAN!!!!!"  Like with any other 6 year old in my life, I just acknowledge it, so we can move on to the task at hand.  "Yes dear, that's the guy who played Batman."

Two other women from the show became such close friends, if I ever get married they'll be the bridesmaids.  In fact I wouldn't at all be surprised if "The Mayor of Sheboygan" responded to this blog.

The other woman from the show I became closest to was the Joker.  I'm Aunt to her children.  I think it's classic me to be friends with Batman AND the Joker....but closer with the Joker.

One summer the Joker was involved in a play at the Arts Center in Sheboygan.  The play was a series of monologues, all performed by women.  The Joker was performing what was to me a really overused forensics piece called "Clear Glass Marbles."  I was a bit nervous to see her do the show as I was worried I might have another Colonel Sanders experience.  "Boy I liked you as a kid but.....ick!"  Thankfully, that was not the case at all.  She knocked it out of the park.

I'd Like to Thank the Academy...

I'm not sure which of the categories "Bosom Buddies" falls into.  (Rewatching episodes is what prompted this blog entry.)  Probably somewhere between 2 and 3.

I always took some pride that I was a Tom Hanks fan starting with his "Bosom Buddies" days.  I absolutely LOVED that show.  For me, watching Tom Hanks succeed felt a bit like a local boy making good.  And part of me cheers every time Peter Scolari has a cameo in one of his movies.

There was a wonderful room in the Kronshage dorms in Madison called the Rose Taylor room.  It came to be a hang out for some of my friends and I.  It had a large screened TV and a piano.  One night, probably during a commercial, I went over to the piano and started banging out "My Life" by Billy Joel.  One of my friends shouted out in delight "BOSOM BUDDIES!!!!"  It's the sort of show where I can't help but like somebody a little bit more when I find out they watched it too.

Watching it now....I can totally see why it only lasted 2 seasons.  However, I can also see why I enjoyed it so much.  Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari have a wonderful cameraderie and chemistry with each other, and an energy that is infectious.  It got me thinking about Mike Myers watching "Hard Day's Night" on TV when he was a kid.  Whenever the movie was over, he would start to cry, because he liked the guys on the screen so much.  As for me, i just smile and think of that happy little kid who was about to become a life long Tom Hanks fan.

There's one factor of my trip I keep forgetting to put in these blogs.  Throughout the trip, I kept getting frustrated by the radio stations.  If you listen to radio in the South, most of what you're going to find are: 1. Country Music 2. I Love Jesus Stations 3. I Hate Obama Stations.  I really shouldn't have been surprised.  I realized my frustration was I wanted to have some sort of magic time machine radio that would play what would have been on Southern Radio stations in the 50's.  Ultimately what helped on that front was going to Sun Records and getting some CD's.  Of course more than one of the songs I knew because the Beatles had covered it...or it was a song they were excited about.  Like the song "Raunchy"...an instrumental song that ultimately got George into the band because he knew how to play it.  One radio station I would recommend is 96.1 "The Pig" in Memphis.  It's an oldies station and I can't do it justice in a blog.  Picture this said with a thick Southern accent:  "My favorite station is 98 oink 1 the piggie.  I listen to it at work while I'm riding my tractor.  Here piggie piggie PIGGIEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

St. Louis was fun....although I'll have to visit it again when I don't have end of the trip fatigue.  I normally pride myself on having an excellent sense of direction.  Usually, even if I get a little lost, I'm able to get a feel of the place I'm in.  I'm convinced that St. Louis, like Waukesha...is my kryptonite.  For the life of me, I couldn't go from one place to another that was 2 blocks away without getting hopelessly lost.

Saturday morning my friend and I went to see Forest Park, which apparently is the pride and joy of St. Louis.  It's bigger than Central Park, and has all sorts of museums that are all free.  We went to check out the Science Museum.  I was impressed by all the hands on activities available.  My favorite was a view over the highway where you could clock how fast the cars were going, and also peek through a window through the floor to watch the cars.

Most of yesterday was spent driving home.  I did have a happy little surprise in Atlanta, Illinois realizing the truckstop I was at, Dixie's, is one of the stops on Route 66.  A good chunk of the rest of the drive home was spent obsessing and scheming how I can do a future road trip on Route 66.  (Classic me....not even back from one road trip and already scheming the next few.)  I think I could pull it off by splitting it in half.  And the 2nd half, I would fly in, rent a car, and fly back.  Anyway, I got home at about 10 last night.  Am spending the day recuperating, cleaning my hobbit hole, and preparing for my summer school classes.

To wrap up this year's road trip, here's some highlights and greatest hits.

Places I'd Most Want to Visit Again

Montgomery, Alabama, the Gulf Coast region, and southern Louisiana

Best Meals

Romie's Grocery in Tupelo, Mississippi and Neely's Barbecue in Memphis

Most Emotionally Satisfying Moments

Going to Sun Records in Memphis, and seeing the water pump and kitchen at Helen Keller's house in Tuscumbia, AL

Creepiest Moment

Seeing the group of prisoners working along the river in Louisiana

Wyoming Award (for place I liked least and gave me the worst vibes...)

Birmingham

Best Surprise of the Trip

The Superman Festival in Metropolis, Illinois

Kindness of Strangers Award

One of the most satisfying parts of the trip was good old-fashioned Southern Hospitality.  I was delighted by the warm, friendly attitude by so many of the people I met.  I also just adore the dialect and the local expressions.  Next time I go South I think I'll go with a friend so I'm more confident to talk to more people, easily the best part of the region.

This is Dire Corrector, back from her Road Trip 2009, signing out.

(Wrote this on Friday...but didn't have good internet access until today!)

I always used to think that line was about the Mississippi Delta being kind of guitar-shaped, and being a sort of symbol for the whole country.  My mother then informed me that “National Guitar” is a brand.  I like my meaning better.  After Paul Simon wrote the song he took a trip to Graceland and realized it wasn’t really about Graceland at all.  Turns out neither was my trip to Memphis.

I started out the day at Graceland.  This was my second trip there.   It was kind of anti-climactic this time around.  It’s also a bit depressing seeing a house that is stuck in 1977.   Other than Star Wars….1977 didn’t have much going for it style wise OR musically.  I also had a classic Elvis moment my first trip that just couldn’t be topped.  As I went outside to go to the gravesite, it started to rain.  The rain got harder and harder until it was a total downpour by the time I got to the grave itself….and as I walked away the rain stopped.  This time around I just listened to a woman yelling at her child “Stand closer to the grave so I can take your picture!”

My visit to Sun Records was a lot more satisfying.  I had visited Sun Records before…but at the time I really didn’t appreciate it.  This time I found myself getting goose bumps, as this was where all the magic happened.  It was also just a more enjoyable group of people.  A lot of people come to Graceland just for the spectacle of it….and even a lot of the Elvis fans feel very differently about his music than I do.   The people at Sun Records were the more hard core fans…the ones that know “Blue Suede Shoes” was a Carl Perkins song first.  For me it was definitely a “take off your shoes, this is holy ground” moment…..except I don’t think Moses later said “Hey Aaron!  Get my picture by this burning bush!”

Topped off my Memphis experience by going to a barbecue restaurant called Neely’s.  I’d recommend it.   It just got me wishing my brother-in-law was there…as he’d be able to articulate WHY the barbecue was so good.  The FIB-in-law is always good to have along for any culinary adventure.

After that, I drove up to St. Louis….past the town of Braggadocio, Missouri…..those people are SO full of themselves.  I’m writing this from the Cheshire Hotel….which has kind of a funny medieval theme going on.  (The air-conditioning died at my friends place….so opted not to sleep in a sauna…)  Tomorrow, a little bit of St. Louis…a whole lot of Illinois, and a return to my hobbit hole.

Last night in a hotel!  Tomorrow I will be staying with a fellow Sheboyganite in her apartment in St. Louis.

The unfortunate thing about my planning for today is I crammed too much driving in....so I didn't really allow myself enough time to stop and see the sights on the way.  But I still managed to have some fun.

If you go to Natchez to see the mansions....allow yourself a good half day at least.  I got to enjoy some of the mansions just by sheer getting lost in the area....but not quite the same.  :P

Then I crossed the Mississippi River to go back to Louisiana.  Last year at this time, I walked across the Mississippi at its source in Lake Itasca.  I noticed it took roughly twice as long to cross the river in Louisiana in a car going 50 miles an hour...than it did to walk across in Minnesota....even counting how many times I slipped and fell on the rocks.

In Ferriday, Louisiana I visited the Delta Blues Museum....which is loads of fun.   Ferriday's main claim to fame is as the birth place of Jerry Lee Lewis, Jimmy Swaggert and Campbell Brown.  (Although Campbell sadly, was not in the museum at all....)  Jimmy Swaggert and Jerry Lee Lewis are cousins.  The lady at the museum was showing a family tree and said "It's a complicated family tree, but no incest....well except for Jerry Lee Lewis marrying his 2nd cousin."  Then the other ladies, who came because they were "kin" to one of the guys in the museum, chimed in that at that time marrying a 2nd cousin wasn't a big deal.  Although the big surprise for me was...I mainly knew Jimmy Swaggert as an evangelist.....and for the big fuss over his adultery.  What I didn't know was he was a solid piano player himself.

For the most part it was a pretty unexciting drive.  Saw what looked like a gas station or possibly a body shop called "Hit and Git." Then I drove through Transylvania, Louisiana....and laughed when I saw a sign for the Baptist Church of Transylvania.  I pictured a church full of characters from 1930's horror movies....Phantom of the Opera a the organ, Dracula at the pulpet saying "Can I have an Amen?"  Reminded me of in college when my friend Randy said he wanted to go to Hell, Michigan so he could visit "The First Baptist Church of Hell."  Sadly....there ARE no churches in Hell, Michigan.

In Lake Providence, I was enjoying the view of the river....complete with those sort of trees that look like they are standing on their tippy toes to stay out of the water.  I was a bit surprised down the road to see a bus pulled over with a bunch of people standing outside it.  My first thought was maybe it was some sort of tour bus.  Then when I got closer, I saw painted on the side of the bus "Inmate Transportation."  I gasped when I realized all the people I saw were prisoners....all wearing white T-shirts and black and white striped pants.

Midafternoon I visited Jim Henson's hometown of Leland, Mississippi.  There is a tiny little museum dedicated to Jim Henson and the muppets.  I had a great time looking through the scrap books.  Then the lady who ran the museum said "I can make your picture with Kermit."  There was a giant Kermit doll people pose with.  It was also another example of hearing "making pictures" instead of "taking pictures."  Dad said when he lived in Louisiana, he noticed all sorts of slightly different uses of verbs like that.  For example "putting on" the lights instead of turning them on.  I've enjoyed seeing a little bit of these regionalisms and noticing that the Starbucks homegenization of the U.S. hasn't totally happened yet.

I briefly went through Clarksdale and the Hwy 49 and Hwy 61 crossroads where blues legend Robert Johnson made his deal with the devil so he could be the best guitar player.  I breezed through so quickly, the devil didn't have any chance to make any offers with me.  "Hey isn't that a Wisconsin license plate?  Aw screw it...I've already got her with chocolate."

I'm currently in Memphis, about a mile away from Graceland.  Tomorrow morning I'll go to Graceland and Sun Records...then hopefully a nice Memphis barbecue for lunch....then off to meet someone in St. Louie Louie.

OK I've had to be really polite and culturally sensitive lately so indulge me for a few seconds:


YEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!

Aaaah...that felt good.

Before I start on my day...dining options have been interesting.  Last night, in walking distance from my hotel, my options were Hooters and The Waffle House chain that one of my friends calls "The Awful House."  I went with the waffle house...figuring they couldn't screw that up too badly.  And I couldn't spend money at a place I see as a glorified strip joint.  The waffles were fine...but was a bit startled to see one of the waitresses smoking a few feet away from me.

In Montgomery, I went to a restaurant called Shogun.  Turns out it is a chain of sushi restaurants throughout the South.  I found it a bit surprising...even though it makes sense, what with the ocean being right nearby.  I also found a restaurant that was like a Southern equivalent of a Ponderosa.  Except the buffet had things like collard greens, and fried cow livers.

I'm also starting to feel like I'm going to every Jackson except the one in Mississippi. So far have been to Jackson, Tennessee and Jackson, Alabama.  Gee wonder if they were fans of Old Hickory?  ;)  Yesterday I was watching "Walk the Line" and when they started singing "We're going down to Jackson" I thought "Which ONE?!"

This morning I started out at Beauvoir (French for Pretty View) the home of Confederate President Jefferson Davis.  In 2005, except for the house itself, most of the place was leveled by Hurricane Katrina.  So the visitor's center is in a trailer.  When the tour guide found out I'm from Wisconsin, he instantly asked me if I'm a Brett Favre fan.  (Gulfport, Favre's home town, is about 2 miles west of Biloxi.)  I smiled and said "Well I was....we're not too happy with him right now." 

My timing couldn't have been better for the house tour.  Most of the renovations were finished a few months, or even a few weeks ago.  The house was built by a man named James Brown....and of course I'm making a million jokes in my head like "Was he the hardest working man in the Confederacy?"  As many issues as I have with Davis....the soap opera of his life is really interesting.   His daughter Winnie was an accomplished musician and writer.  She was known as the Daughter of the Confederacy.  Everybody was hoping she'd marry Robert E. Lee's grandson.  But of course those two couldn't stand each other.  Instead, on a trip to New York she....*gasp* fell in love with a Yankee.  And not just any Yankee, but the son of an abolitionist.  She got so much grief over her engagement, she broke it off.  Neither she nor the Yankee in question ever married anyone else, and she died at 33.

Definitely had a "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore" moment right before I went out to the Confederate Graveyard.  The tour guide said "As you walk out to the graveyard, be sure to keep your eyes down as you walk past the bayou.  Our alligator Beauregard lives out there, and I've walked right past him a few times by mistake."  As I walked through the bayou I kept thinking of that opening scene in "The Muppet Movie" where Kermit says to Dom Deluise: "Bernie the agent, meet Arnie the Alligator!" 

Now of course usually when I go to any touristy place I "Veni Vidi Kitschi."  (Translation: "I came, I saw, I went to the gift shop.)  But I think if I brought any of those T-shirts back to Wisconsin with me....I'd be in big trouble:  "Hurrah For Jefferson Davis!" "Real Women Love the South: The Rest Marry Yankees"...ahem... I was trying to articulate to my mother how I feel about Jefferson Davis....as he is a fascinating historical figure.  My mom compared it to my fascination with Nixon.....but not even Nixon tried to break away from the Union.  I guess I put him in a similar class as Benedict Arnold: compelling, but ultimately a traitor.  Although you don't see people venerating Benedict Arnold as a saint....which is what makes all this Jefferson Davis hero worship all the weirder.

After that, I cross the big-ass bridge over the Pearl River and into Louisiana.  Louisiana is a state I've long been fascinated by.  This is partly because my dad used to live in Louisiana...so I've been hearing stories about it my whole life.  It's also partly so much music I love comes out of New Orleans: Dr. John, Harry Connick, Jr., Louis Armstrong...etc.   The nice people at the Visitor's Center were touched when I told them this.  I'm also glad I got all the brochures as I definitely want to spend more than just a few hours in Louisiana...hopefully when it's not 100 degrees out.

My heart literally hurt as I had to pass all the signs for New Orleans, but not drive that direction.  That was one of those situations where my Spock half looked at my hippie half and said "You've gotta be fucking kidding me!  We're crazy enough to go cross country alone...but not crazy enough to go to post-apocalyptic New Orleans alone."  And you know it's extreme when the Spock half starts using those colorful metaphors.  ;) 

Instead I went to a restaurant in Abita and had some crawfish and gumbo.  I think Louisiana is shaped like a woman lying on her side in a kind of sultry position.  Today I was on the equivalent of her ankle.  Tomorrow, when I go to Ferriday....(Jerry Lee Lewis's hometown...) it will be one of her goombaza-goombazas.  ;)  I also laughed really hard when one of the signs in Louisiana was for "Liverpool."  Last I checked....the Beatles weren't southerners....not even Southern England.  Although something tells me  Ringo Starr would get along really well in the South......if the KKK weren't pissed off at the Beatles for that bigger than Jesus comment....

Most of the rest of the day was driving back to Mississippi.  On the way I passed through the Homose....uh I mean HomoCHITTO forest.  Homochitto to me either sounds like gay infidelity....or an orange powdery snack food that doesn't like opposite marriage. 

Now I'm in Natchez, Mississippi.  Tomorrow I'm hoping to get a tour of some of the Plantations.....hopefully from a bus.  I'm definitely too wussy for this triple digit and humid weather....the sort where I try to say something witty, and watch my remark fall ont he floor and melt.   I was walking in downtown Natchez this evening.  Absolutely gorgeous tree-lined streets with pink flowers.  The houses are of the classic style where I half-expected to see Atticus Finch walk out. 

Tomorrow, after the plantations, and a bit more of Louisiana, I'll make a stop in Leland, Mississippi, a.k.a. Jim Henson's home town.  Then another stop in Clarksdale to the Crossroads where according to legend Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil to be a better guitar player. And then I'll be walking in Memphis....but my feet won't be 10 feet off of Beale. 

Time for another sing along:

Oh I come from Alabama with a banjo mp3
And I'm going to Louisiana
It will be my state 40

Not too much to report today.  It was mostly driving.  I took a detour to Selma....and all I saw there was a panhandler at a gas station...who I gave a dollar to, so she'd go away.  Methinks next trip I'll have GPS so I won't be so dependent on signage and asking locals.  Ultimately I got to see a hell of a lot of rural Alabama before I ultimately went back to Mississippi.  Unfortunately, I found all the brochures about Mobile AFTER I was already out of it.  Ah well. 

Right now I'm in Biloxi, right on the beach for the Gulf of Mexico.  It's interesting how out of nowhere, suddenly palm trees all over the place.  Spent a little time this afternoon walking on the beach, enjoying the white sand and the sea breeze.  Tomorrow I see Jefferson Davis's house....and try hard not to flinch when they talk about him.   Then briefly slip into Louisiana...although sadly, not to New Orleans.  Just will slip in long enough to see Lake Ponchartrain and have some Louisiana cuisine, then back to Mississippi.

It seemed like a perfect combination that today I was slated to both see Helen Keller's childhood home, and a statue of Vulcan.  OK granted one is a real life heroine that is the ultimate example of triumph over a disability...and the other is a Roman god...Although even one is fictional, both have meant a great deal to me.  Both had to deal with the frustrations of a body with major limitations that couldn't  keep up with their brain.  Or as I put in my poem about Vulcan, "Perpetually hobbling 2 feet behind the gods while your thoughts soar far beyond Olympus and Jove's empty sky..."

I started out my day with Ivy Green.  Once again, just like Elvis's birthplace...absolutely beautiful landscape, loads of flowers...the whole shebang.  I was surprised that there weren't more tourists.  I got a tour all by myself.  Around the time I was leaving there was just a mother and child.  I had an instant repore with the tour guide as I played Helen Keller in "The Miracle Worker" in high school.  So she'd tease me when she said some more obscure fact "See...something you DIDN'T know!"  Like I didn't realize that she was related to both General Lee, and John Adams.  I gasped when she showed me the kitchen....it's one of the most difficult scenes in "Miracle Worker."  Helen and Annie have a fight over whether Helen uses silverware.  It was thrilling to see where the original event actually happened...even some of the same dishes in the room.  Then I wandered outside and got to see the famous water pump.  Almost felt like I should genuflect or something.

After that I was on my way to Birmingham to see Vulcan...the largest cast iron statue in the world.  Turns out I should have written down more explicit directions for myself.  I couldn't find Vulcan park.  Then I went to a gas station that seemed to not quite know its own purpose as the clerk didn't know Birmingham at all...and the pumps were completely uncontaminated by gas.  I tried 5 or 6 people.  Most of which had either not heard of Vulcan Park, or couldn't explain how to get there.  The one guy that was remotely helpful...I'm guessing I was probably a few blocks away.  At this point, I was feeling frustrated...and kind of creeped out by Birmingham.  As I could see the sign back to the highway, I decided my best bet was just to head to Montgomery.

So I wound up doing this afternoon all the things in Montgomery I'd planned on doing tomorrow.  I started out at the Capitol building.  I've been at a lot of places where major speeches were made.  I stood at the place in Prague where Vaclav Havel gave a speech about having a Czech democracy.  I stood at the church in Mexico where the Grito de Dolores started the Mexican revolution for independence from Spain.  So I wasn't quite sure how to react when I was standing at the spot where Jefferson Davis was inaugurated as president of the Confederacy.  The history buff in me was intrigued....while the rest of me...the loyal Wisconsinite, descendent of Union soldiers, supporter of Civil Rights, Lincoln fanatic...couldn't help but recoil.

The tour guide at the Capitol was delighted that someone from Wisconsin would come all the way to Alabama, just because she was curious about the state.  Whereas I've been delighted to talk to any of the locals.  I'm really enjoying the friendliness and the "Big Daddy" southern accent.  The tour guide looked at my pale skin and remarked "We gonna get you BROWN before you go back to Yankee Land!"  After the Capitol Building I went to the first White House of the Confederacy.  Once again interesting....and was flinching at all the remarks about PRESIDENT Davis, but MR. Lincoln.

Only felt appropriate that I should do a few Martin Luther King related activities to make up for all the Jeffferson Davis business.  First I went to the Civil Rights Memorial.  Then I went to Martin Luther King's church on Dexter Street.  This was where he was minister, and the headquarters for the Montgomery Bus Boycott.  The church isn't open on Mondays, but I was able to climb the steps to the door.  What struck me is standing on the steps of that church, you have a perfectly clear view to the Capitol Building, Jefferson Davis's statue, and where he became president of the Confederacy.  There was some sort of poetic justice that so close to that building with Jefferson Davis, and a giant painting of Governor Wallace, the one who said "Segregation now, segregation forever"....right in eyeline was one of the most important places of the movement that would fight everything those men represented.

Meanwhile I've had the song "Angel from Montgomery" stuck in my head all day.  "If dreams were lightnining, and thunder were desire, this old house would have burned down a long time ago."

Tomorrow I head down to the Gulf Coast.  First to Mobile, Alabama, and then to Biloxi, Mississippi.

When I was in elementary school, one of my friends and I shared the....er...privilege...or being born in August, 1977.  We realized both of us had been hearing Elvis jokes our whole lives.  He heard Elvis died because he was born.  I heard Elvis died because he knew I was coming.  The family joke took a whole new depth when I did a report on him in 5th grade.  From early on, when I'm really interested in a band or musician...I like to check out who influenced them.  In 5th grade I was in the beginning of my life long love affair/obsession with the Beatles.  As Elvis seemed to be the biggest early influence on the Beatles, I decided I wanted to learn more about him.  (In hindsight...the report really should have been on Buddy Holly or Carl Perkins who had a lot MORE of an influence on them.) 

After that, Elvis got to be an ongoing joke.  I have a T-shirt that says "Elvis and Nixon for President in '92."  Although I am a fan, in a weird way.  Part of me likes 1956 Elvis...back when he was still with Bill and Scotty.  But I also just get a kick out of the sheer over the top quality of the man.  I also think he's a great symbol of the U.S....for good and for bad.  (Like in the book "Biggest Elvis"...where he's used as a symbol for American imperialism....and you get 3 Elvis impersonators in one book!)

I had about 3 hours of driving from Tennessee to Tupelo.  The roads were pretty empty most of the way as everyone was on church.  In order to at least get a taste of the whole Southern Baptist experience, I listened to a few services on the radio.  The first one was a bit too happy-clappy for my taste...although I did like that the sermon mentioned the Karate Kid.  The second one was much more what I was hoping for.  "Can I have an Amen?"  the whole works.  And further confirmation that despite being a Unitarian that loves the Mass....when it comes to music, I'm a total Baptist.  The over the top style of piano playing reminded me of....well...ME!  Meanwhile I enjoyed the scenery, and imagined a certain truck driver from Tupelo in the early 50's who probably had a similar view.

Once I got to Tupelo, I had lunch at Romie's Grocery, a genuine southern Meat and Three.  www.meatandthree.com   You have one meat, and three "vegetables"...which is code for a side dish.  The vegetables included macaroni and cheese, fried green tomatoes, mashed potatoes, fried squash....you get the idea.  I also realized I didn't know from cornbread until today.  Apparently it's NOT supposed to be the consistency of gravel and stick in your throat.  Who knew?

Elvis's birthplace is a large area that also serves as a park.  The museum wasn't much exciting.  I did like the statue of Elvis at 13.  Was also fun getting to go into the house where he was born.  What was probably most entertaining was the church.  They moved the Assembly of God church Elvis's family worshipped at onto the grounds.  First we had a tour from one of Elvis's cousins.  It was a pretty straightforward country church....until the 3 giant movie screens descended from the ceiling.  This was one of those moments where I was glad I came alone.  Otherwise, methinks I would have been overcome with a bad case of the giggles.  And I suspect all those people whose cell phones kept ringing with Elvis songs....would not have been amused.  Although I did like the idea.  They were trying to replicate what a church service would have been like in that church when Elvis attended it.  So the screens gave the effect that members of the congregation were around singing gospel music.  Most of the music I heard in Tupelo was his gospel music...which I've never been crazy about.  (I like gospel music...just not how Elvis does it.)  There's even a special chapel where fans are supposed to be able and go and meditate, but mostly everybody is just taking pictures and listening to the Elvis music.  Anyway, mainly I was just happy to see Elvis related pictures and stories everywhere...kind of like the whole Superman deal yesterday.

Unfortunately, the trip to my hotel was a bit more exciting than I would have liked.  I was nearly out of Tupelo, when my car started making loud noises.  I pulled over at the visitors center for the Natchez Trace Parkway and realized I'd completely blown out one of my tires.   Fortunately, with the help of the nice park ranger lady, I was able to find someone to come in and replace my tire.  The car place was D.C. Services....but I'm guessing that didn't stand for Dire Corrector!  As it was Sunday, and nobody else was open, it was pricey.  But at least it happened when I was nearby people that could help.  The Natchez Trace Parkway, while very pretty...was also miles and miles of driving through the woods.  When the tire was fixed, the man made some joke about how the credit card didn't go through because it needed my husband's approval.  I was too freaked out at the time to be offended.  Wow what an inappropriate thing to say to me on SOOO many levels.  Although weirdly so far, Mississippi reminds me a lot of the U.P.....similar kind of backwoods poverty feel.

Now I'm in Tuscumbia, Alabama...state number 39!  Tomorrow I see Helen Keller's house and the giant statue of Vulcan.  Although I'm guessing there won't be a whole carnival full of people dressed up like the crippled Roman god.  ;)

Another year another road trip so....

*insert jaunty music here*

Everybody sing!

I love to go a wandering
Along the mountain track
And as I go I love to sing
My laptop on my back
Hilariiiiiiiiiie  Hilaraaaaaaaaaaah

This year's trip will be shorter than last year's....thanks to teaching massive amounts of summer school classes.  So this year I'm spending a week in the Deep South.

I had more fun today than I expected.  Most of today was spent driving down Illinois.  At first I thought the only excitement of the day was going to be lunch at Bob Evans.  Then I saw a sign for Metropolis...and it was on my route.

I didn't realize Metropolis, IL existed until today.  As I've been on a Superman kick lately, thought it sounded like a fun place to stop.  I figured I'd get there too late to see the Superman museum, but at least I could see the giant Superman Statue.

  I was a little surprised to see how much traffic there was in downtown Metropolis as it only has a population of 6,000.  (So roughly the same size as Sheboygan Falls or North Fond du Lac.  Turns out, 2nd weekend in June is when Metropolis has it's annual Superman Celebration.  There were rides, country bands playing....and tons of people dressed up as superheroes.  As someone who in 1st grade used to run around her bedroom in Wonder Woman underoos...I was in absolute heaven.  Everybody seemed to have that beginning of the summer glee.  The weather was nice....and the sky had one of those  summer at 5 PM golden glows.  I just wandered around savoring the moment and enjoying hearing the southern accents.

Tomorrow I'm going to Tupelo to see Elvis's house and then I'm Alabamy Bound!

When my mother was younger, good 1960's and 70's baby boomer that  she was, had a bit of cynicism about a lot of the typical milestones in life.  During my high school graduation, she commented that she was savoring mine because she had copped too much of an attitude to enjoy her own.

Then in the mid 70's she got engaged to my father.  Gifts and other signs of support started coming out of the woodwork.  My mom realized, with a combination of amusement and horror, that when you do what society wants you to do, society rewards you big time.

I've experienced the same thing from a very different angle.  Unlike my mother, when I was high school and college age I DESPERATELY wanted to fit into the establishment.  I had a series of milestones and standards in my head that I was constantly flagellating myself for not achieving. 

At one point in college, in frustration after watching "Dead's Poet's Society" I actually wrote a poem about the virtues of conformity.  (Which ironically, was probably the ultimate noncorformist thing to do...)  Ever notice how people who read the Robert Frost poem "The Road Less Travelled" usually use a very smug self-congratulatory tone?  The way Robert Frost reads it himself, it's much more melancholy, and makes me suspect he wasn't entirely happy about choosing the road less travelled. 

My sister took the road that was MORE travelled.  Not because she felt pressured into it or anything...she genuinely LIKES all the things society thinks we're supposed to do.  She is married, owns a home, works in a corporation, and has a baby on the way.  As a child, she was practically a textbook case for every phase and stage.  She's also tall, blonde and athletic.  Thankfully she also is hilarious...or there would be no living with her.

I admit, sometimes I envy my sister.  Although she more than once has admitted to envying me...I think it's the nature of sibling relationships.

As for me...I was defying Dr. Spock from day one.  My mother had dutifully read all the baby books and then I promptly proceeded to do nothing according to schedule.  For example...I didn't go through the 2 year old climbing stage until I was 5!

I am resigned that in order to be truly myself, which is the only way to be truly happy...there is just no way I can do what society wants.  In some ways, it's a relief to have a sister to do all the society things for me (like provide the grandchildren.)  I do feel, instead of totally taking the road less travelled, I've found a middle ground.  As a teacher and as an auntie, and even as a church musician.. I've found a way to make myself a part of the community in a way that works for me....while still allowing me the freedom to pursue my writing, and run off on road trips by myself. 

I've been obsessing about Route 66 lately as I hope to try and do a trip on it eventually.  As it hasn't been an official highway since 1985, parts of it you can still travel and go to all the quirky stops on the way...and parts of it you need to take the interstate because the road conditions are just too dangerous, or it's a dead end.  I suppose for me, that will be the balancing act of my life: figuring out when to take the backroads, and when to get on the highway for a stretch....that discernment will make all the difference.

For some reason, the Sgt. Pepper entry that I posted for my Beatle blog is not showing up on my friends page, but IS showing up in my journal.  Rather than try to post the whole thing again (which would be putzy with all the embedded media...) here is a link to the entry:

direcorrector.livejournal.com/79678.html

Otherwise if you go on my tags and click "beatles" or "evolver" it will show up.

It was 20 years ago today.....plus a couple odd years...that I first became a Beatle fanatic: 1987.  The timing could not have been better.  For the 20th Anniversary of Pepper there were loads of articles and TV specials floating around.  For the next year my bedroom was decorated with images from Pepper, and key players from the Summer of Love.

Pepper often gets touted as being "the first concept album."  Although really...it was more the first CONCEPT of a concept album.  At this point the Beatles were beginning to feel trapped by their own fame.  Paul decided they could pretend they weren't the Beatles, and instead were a group called "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band."  That concept lasted for 3 songs.  The intro. the reprise and the whole introduction to Billy Shears before "I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends."
( The long and winding blog... )

I was listening to an audiobook of Carrie Fisher's autobiography "Wishful Drinking."  One part I related to very strongly (besides her lamenting that she has a superpower that turns men gay....)  was when she named the two halves of her personality.  "Roy" was when she's in manic mode, and "Pam" is when she's depressive.

Thankfully my personality doesn't go quite to the extremes as Carrie Fisher's.  But I do have the two named halves, also one male one female.  One half I either call "Spock" or "The Vulcan."  This guy is the reason I can hold down a job.  This is the part of me that is a stickler for rules, even though so many of them don't seem to apply to me....the part that insists on crossing the street at crosswalks....the part that refused to use slang as a child...the part that laments having the personality of a science geek, but not the math skills of one. 

There's a scene in the movie "Baron von Munchausen" where they visit the moon.  Robin Williams plays the King of the Moon, complete with detachable head.   When the King's head was detached it would float off for intellectual pursuits, free of the desires of the body.  For a long time my Vulcan half REALLY wished for a detachable head.

The other half it's taken me longer to name.  For a while I used call her Tiffany, picturing a blonde boy-crazy cheerleader.  Later I started calling her Drusilla, after the character on "Buffy."  It kind of worked.  Drusilla was cunning, had that creepy ESP thing that seems to run in the Croatian part of my DNA, dangeous and delighted at being "in the moment."

Lately I've started just calling that half "The Hippie."  She's the reason I'm any fun.  The Vulcan came up with the structure for the bunny stories, The Hippie came up with the content.   (A lot of thoses stories are The Hippie making fun of The Vulcan.)  Any of you who have been around me after I've had a few have met The Hippie. *insert breathy voice here*  "Oh wooooow.....they took the glasses away!  Hee hee....hey.....look what my ankles do!"

The Hippie is also the part of me that is the free spirit.  Last summer, for a change, she got a chance to be in charge.  My original game plan last June was to spend a week in Iowa at the Writer's Workshop, and then take a week long trip through the Dakotas, and end up at my friend's place near Duluth.

The week before I was supposed to go Iowa City became flooded.  Two days before I was supposed to leave I get a call that the Writer's Workshop has been cancelled.  I was upset for about 5 minutes.  I realized I could either sit around the apartment and mope, or I could travel some place else.  I called up my friend in Pueblo, Colorado and said "Could you use a visitor?  I can be there by Sunday."  The next day I called my parents from a gas station in Missouri.  "I thought I'd let you know I'm NOT in Iowa."  *pause while they heave a sigh of relief*  "I'm in Missouri on my way to Colorado!" 

A few days later, thanks to some scenic route ideas from friends, I crossed the Rockies and went to the Arches Park in Utah.  The night I got to Moab, the Utah town close to the Arches, I had a momentary panic from my Vulcan half.  "You took us....past towns with NO SERVICES....to the middle of the DESERT???  What do WE know about the desert?!"  Then I called up my friend Michael.  If your hippie half ever needs reinforcement, best to call on a bona fide Deadhead.  I realized now and then, it's OK to let the free spirit part of me take over.  Sometimes The Hippie has to win.

This is why I'm bolding going where no Dire Corrector has gone before in a few weeks to the Mississippi Delta.  I have to keep The Hippie happy.  Then when it's January and The Hippie says "Let's drive as far south as we can go, take our shoes off, walk on the beach....have a wild affair with a gorgeous stranger and after that....go to NARNIA!!"  The Vulcan will take a less than patient breath, try to ignore the Narnia comment...and say  "You got to run off to the South for a while, and I'll give you a longer time to run off next year."  The Hippie sighs.  "Can I at least go to the Land of the Bunnies for a while?"  The Vulcan nods.  "That would be most logical...it is the only way we manage to look interested during faculty meetings."

RIP Wayne Allwine 1947-2009  Otherwise known as one of only 3 actors to be the voice of Mickey Mouse.

As far as Disney characters go, in the past, Mickey Mouse wasn't one of my favorites.  He ranked a couple of slots above Snow White...a bit TOO sweet and perky for my taste.  I was always more of a Donald Duck fan.

This changed Christmas of 1992 when our family took a trip to Disney World.  There are cartoons of Mickey on EVERYTHING.  I took to reading what he was saying on our soda cups, and was pleasantly surprised to discover I do a passable Mickey voice.

And then...I started using my powers for evil.  I took to using the Mickey Mouse voice for things you'd NEVER hear Mickey say in any of the cartoons.  I had a history project where we could create an audio of characters having a discussion about the Constitution.  On my show...Barbara Walters and Ross Perot gave the straight answers.  Mickey provided...er...color commentary.  When somebody explained what "impeachment" meant Mickey chimed in:  "Oh boy!  Throw the bum out!" 

Another Christmas my family was driving somewhere listening to a Disney Christmas Carol tape.  My sister noted that they had changed the title of one song from "Here We Come a Wassailing" to "Here We Come a Caroling."  When my sister asked about it, I informed her that "wassailing" is another word for "drinking."  Then added in a Mickey voice "And remember kids, no wassailing until you are 21!"  My father nearly drove off the road.

(This really should be more of an audioblog although with my current cold today I sound more like Ursula the Sea Witch than Mickey!)

I also started a series of jokes about Mickey.  What is Mickey Mouse's favorite Buddy Holly tune?  "Oh Boy!"  What is Mickey Mouse's favorite Beatles song?  "A Day In the Life"....I read the news today oh boy!

As Papageno is searching for his Papagena...one sign I may have found the man of my dreams is when I meet somebody who can do a Donald Duck voice.  :D 

There weren't many singles this year that didn't already appear on an album.  Although I am happy to state....ladies and gentlemen...we have safely departed Pronoun Song territory!  The lone single I'll be talking about, neither song is about love.  Also for both songs, instead of going to the massive amount of shows that wanted them as guests, the Beatles had the idea to send out a promotional video instead.  More than one Beatle has made a remark about these saying "This was when we invented MTV."

Paperback Writer (Lennon-McCartney) - When I first started listening to the Beatles I was convinced that every song had some deep hidden meaning.  So when I asked my mother about THIS one her response was..."Uh...it's about someone who wants to be a paperback writer!"  The initial idea for the song was Paul's, but the lyrics were made with John and Paul sitting down together.

This  is one of their only 1966 songs that they performed live.  Although it wasn't that great as they couldn't reproduce a lot of the fun effects of the song.  While Paul McCartney is singing "It's a thousand pages, give or take a few..." the falsetto backing vocals are actually the words"Frère Jacques."

"Paperback Writer" also inspired the Monkees song "Last Train To Clarksville."  One of the composers of that song....either Tommy Boyce or Bobby Hart...caught the tail end of "Paperback Writer" on the radio and thought there was a line about "Last train to" something.  Later when he reheard the song, he realized it didn't have anything to do with trains at all so he could use the idea.  The two songs are very similar: same key and very similar instrumentation. 

Note that Paul McCartney has a chipped tooth in both this and the "Rain" promotional video.  He took a nasty fall on his moped.


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Rain (Lennon-McCartney) - I ADORE this song!  It's another song I'm amazed is so underplayed.  The lyrics, by John, are pretty straight forward about people constantly complaining about the weather.

Ringo Starr thought this recording was his best drumming ever, and I agree.  I also think the Paul McCartney bass line is especially good.  But the crowning moment of this song is the end where they play the vocals backwards.

Once Michael and I were practicing with our friend Thomas for an upcoming open mic night.  We decided to try and play "Rain."  When we go to the end of the song, Michael and I automatically launched into imitating the backwards portion of the song.  Thomas gave us a horrified look that I think meant "Oh my God!  They've both gone insane the same way at the same time!"


Beatles Christmas 1966

As you can see, the Christmas messages are getting progressively weirder and trippier.  I like the Christmas messages less and less later in the Beatles careers.  I do like the goofy Christmas song that begins and ends this recording.


Next on our magical mystery tour...Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.  I hope you will enjoy the show!

It was the first of June in the Land of the Bunnies.  Mother Bunny decided this would be the perfect day for Nigel and Mabel to visit their Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne over in Hasenpfeffer Hollow.  She went to her garden and filled a basket full of her plumpest juiciest carrots, put them in a basket and gave it to Mabel.  Mabel was always eager to help.  Then she gave an empty basket to Nigel and said "This is in case you find anything interesting along the way.  You know how Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne enjoy a good story." 

Nigel was eager to get going right away so they could get to Hasenpfeffer Hollow as swiftly as possible.   However Mabel, ever the social bunnyfly, wanted to visit with all the neighbors.

First they stopped by Mr. Randall's house.  The tabby cat was busily decorating his abode for a dinner party he was hosting that evening.  "Greetings my fine young bunnies!  What, pray tell, may I do for you on this beautiful sunny day?"

Mabel was so eagerly bouncing up and down Nigel was concerned she'd spill the basket of carrots...or worse yet, break one of Mr. Randall's sparkly figurines.  Mabel blurted out "We are going to visit Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne in Hasenpfeffer Hollow!"

A wide grin spread across Mr. Randall's face.  "Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne?  Two of my favorite bunnies indeed.  I shall never forget the tapas party they had at their house.  Do tell them to return to Snickerdoodle Glen post haste!  Oooh!  Half a mo!"  Mr. Randall sprinted into the kitchen and came out with a small container that he handed to Nigel.  "Give this to Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne.  I find a modicum of ice cream twice a day to be MOST satisfactory!"

Mabel looked confused.  "You like knotty plum ice cream?"

Mr. Randall smiled.  "Vanilla my dear, ALWAYS vanilla...sometimes I will sprinkle African violets on the top." 

Just then there was a knock at the door.  Mr. Randall ushered in a black and white bunny who was wearing a tuxedo.  "Why Pierre Lapin!  I wasn't expecting you until later!" exclaimed Mr. Randall.

"Ooh Monsieur Randall!  I had to show you this!"  Pierre Lapin pulled the lid off of a casserole dish.  "Voila!  My little wife Fou Fou was bopping around the kitchen today, and she made THIS for tonight's party!"

The casserole looked like a mound of gray clay with some sprigs of parsley sprinkled on top of it.  "Um...Mr. Lapin?"  inquired Nigel.  "What is it?"

"Field Mouse Florentine!"

Nigel and Mabel both turned pale.  Nigel gulped.  "You mean it's made out of...you cook it with...."

"Spinach, cheese and mushrooms!  It is a FAVORITE for the field mice to eat!  That is why we call it Field Mouse Florentine!"

Nigel and Mabel heaved a sigh of relief.

Nigel tugged at Mabel's sleeve.  "Well this has been lovely.  Thank you for the ice cream, Mr. Randall, but we really should be going."

"Where are you young bunnies headed on this beautiful sunny morning?" inquired Pierre Lapin.

"We are going to visit Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne in Hasenpfeffer Hollow!"

Pierre's eyes opened wide.  "Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne?  I LOVE them!  I will never forget the party I went to with them at Babaganoush Bay.  It took 2 weeks to get the smell of elderberries out of my fur!  Ah those were the days!  You absoultely MUST bring them some of the Field Mouse Florentine!"

Mr. Randall packaged up the Field Mouse Florentine, put it in Nigel's basket, and the two young bunnies were on their merry way.  The sun was high in the sky when Mabel insisted that they visit Boris Bassethound.

Boris Bassethound was in the kitchen and was preparing a dish for Mr. Randall's dinner party.  As he stirred he sang to himself "I ain't nothin' but a hound dog....bow wow all the time...."  He turned to Mabel and Nigel.  "Good day young bunnies!  Where are you headed on this fine day?"

"We are on our way to Hasenpfeffer Hollow to see Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne," said Nigel quickly.  He hoped they wouldn't stay too long. 

Boris Bassethound howled in joy.  "Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne.  I just LOVE them."

Nigel put his basket down.  He had a feeling they would be staying a while.

Boris Bassethound continued his story.  "I will never forget the trip we took west several years ago.  They took me to my first genuine Indiana Hootenanny.  Be sure to send them my regards!"

After Boris Bassethound packed up a hefty portion of his stew and put it into Nigel's basket.  Once again Nigel and Mabel continued on their way.

The sun was getting lower in the sky when they stopped at the home of Conan Coney.  Conan Coney had on his best kilt, and was holding a pot of some mysterious substance.  Clearly he was ready to go to Mr. Randall's party.

"Good afternoon ye wee bairn bunnies!" greeted Conan Coney.  "Where are ye headed off to on this fine day?"

"We're headed to Hasenpfeffer Hollow to see Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne" volunteered Mabel.

Conan Coney's face lit up and his long ears straightened out.  However, before he could say anything Nigel chimed in, "Let me guess....you just LOVE Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne?"

Conan Coney laughed.  "How did you know laddie?  I'll never forget the casual dinning party we had in ought five."

Nigel interrupted "Uh Mr. Coney...don't you mean casual DINING?"

"Nae laddie you have a lot to learn about life.  It was casual DINNING!  Ye don't need to wear the special kilt or the fancy hats like you do in a FORMAL dinning.  Och...and the casual dinning of ought five, that was a merry din."

Conan Coney packed up some of the mysterious stew and was about to put it into Nigel's basket.  Nigel protested "My basket is getting awfully heavy.  Couldn't Mabel carry it?"

Conan looked at Mabel's basket full of carrots, and then looked at Nigel's basket that still had some room.  "Nigel, Nigel....she canna take much morrrrrrre!  Be a gentleman and carry some of this haggis to Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne!"

Nigel did not want to know what haggis was.  He somehow suspected he was not going to want a piece for himself.

The sun was sinking near the horizon as Nigel and Mabel finally neared Hasenpfeffer Hollow.  Mabel looked a little concerned.  "It's going to be dark soon!"

Nigel gritted his teeth.  "Well yes, YOU were the one that HAD to stop and talk to all the neighbors.  Otherwise we'd BE there already!"

Mabel's eyes got wider.  "But Nigel...when it gets dark....the POOKAS come out!"

Nigel furrowed his brow.  "Mabel, for the thousandth time, there is NO such thing as pookas!"

Mabel was defiant.  "There are TOO.  My friend Maddie's cousin said she saw a 6 foot tall invisible pooka RIGHT around here!"

"But how can you...." Melvin started to protest.

Mabel interrupted "Race me!"

Nigel groaned.  "Holy Hotot!"  He was not very fast, and always the last to be picked for Bunny Ball.  However, as he didn't want to be alone with any Pookas, he awkwardly jogged behind Mabel, jostling his basket as he went.

It was nearly night fall when they finally reached Hasenpfeffer Hollow.  Uncle Donald and Aunt Julienne were waiting to greet them at the door.  Aunt Julienne opened up Nigel's basket.  "What have you brought with you?"

Nigel's basket was a total mess.  The ice cream from Mr. Randall had melted.  The Field Mouse Florentine, the haggis and the stew had all mushed together into an unappetizing pile of glop.  Nigel looked crestfallen.

Aunt Julienne smiled reassuringly at Nigel.  "I bet there is an interesting story behind this!  Come on inside.  We have supper waiting."

Aunt Julienne, Uncle Donald, Mabel and Nigel all shared a sumptious dinner topped off carrots a flambe for dessert.  It wound up being a very enjoyable trip after all.  On the way back, even Nigel thought he may have a story or two to share with the neighbors.
 

Before we begin, there is one key point from 1965 that I really need to include.  The Beatles received their M.B.E.'s that year.  Watch Ringo's reaction to his introduction:
( Turn off your mind relax and float down stream... )

I think nearly every geek worth their pocket protector goes through a Star Trek phase.  In the case of some of us, in the immortal words of Buddy Cole, a very looooooong phase.

I was well into my junior year of high school before I got hooked.  I am with sci fi like I am with country music.  I like some of it, but I am very particular.  (Unlike with musicals....if they are singing and dancing, and it's not "Grease"...I'm probably going to love it.)  I blame my high school history teacher.  He actually came to class in a Star Fleet uniform on the day of the Star Trek TNG finale.  But what he said that got me intrigued was that the different alien races were based on different cultures.  Ferengi were Americans, Romulans were Chinese, Klingons were kind of a cross between Spartans and Samurai, etc. etc. 

When the movie "Generations" came out, I decided to go with my friend Jenn.  That was the year we made our cultural exchange.  She got me hooked on Star Trek, and I got her hooked on Monty Python.   I LOOOOOVED the movie....even though in hindsight, it wasn't one of their best.  The whole odd number curse, doncha know.  The main characters in Next Gen were Worf and Data.  They were the only two that didn't fit in an environment where everybody got along WAY too well.  I was just dying to see Number One show irritation to Captain Picard when he WASN'T possessed by an alien being.

The summer after I got Trek-infected, I started watching the original series.  I have a confession to make....I like Captain Kirk better than Picard!  I love a good Western, even if it takes place in outer space.  Captain Kirk is a total cowboy: shoot first, ask questions later.  Yee-haw!  I also loved that the series was grittier than Next Gen.  Characters get frustrated with each other, and it doesn't have the easy answers.

Eventually the series went down the tubes in quality and I lost interest.  Other series like "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Battlestar Galactica" filled the Enterprise-shaped void.

I had mixed feelings when I heard there was going to be a new Star Trek movie involving the characters from the original series.  J.J. Abrams' writing is a mixed bag, in my opinion.  I also was dubious over whether I would accept different actors in the role of Kirk and Spock.  To my surprise, I was totally delighted by the movie.  They managed to capture the essence and even some of the details of the original series without being crushed under the weight of  4 decades of movies, episodes, etc.  I found myself reacting to the movie in a similar way I did to the Beatles' "Love."  I had the same excitement for Star Trek that I'd had at 16.  Keep them comin', J.J.!