Red Necks and White Socks - It's "Murville" (Maryville, Tennessee)

Democrats and Republicans are going to kill us!

2008-07-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

Its like Ford and Chevrolet, Coke and Pepsi,Tide and Cheer...the rivalry between Democrats and Republicans is going to be our downfall. Here we have two "presumptive" nominees for president - Mccain and Obama with absolutely nothing distinctive or defining between the two of them. Given the sound bites of the moment - McCain shifts left and Obama shifts right. McCain's economic advisor and supposedly - best friend says Americans are a "bunch of whiners" and Obama says immigrants shouldn't be learning English but that our children need to be learning Spanish. The fact the race is so close shows there is little difference between these guys.

Then there is Bob Barr. No sense in voting for him - he's ugly and wears funny looking glasses. He was one of the leaders in prosecuting Bill Clinton as well as former Republican Congressman Pat Swindal as well as serving as a former member of the CIA. Despite impeccable credentials in foreign policy and a sound domestic record - there's that funny photograph of him eating cheese made from his wife's breast milk - victim of a prank by Borat.

Despite the pundits, I believe Americans are a long way from making up their minds as to whom our next president is going to be. We need a choice. Unfortunately we don't have one yet.

Burn The Town and Sack the Banks

2008-07-11T05:10:00.000-07:00

In a little over two weeks, I will be travelling to St. Albans, Vermont. This town was made famous by being the object of the furthermost northern raid of Confederate forces during the Civil War. I will have more to tell after I get there.

The raid is the subject of a book by Carolyn J. Prince entitled: Burn the town and sack the banks.

Also on this trip - if I can get to see him - I plan on meeting with the leader of Vermont's secession movement - Thomas H. Naylor, the leader of the 2nd Vermont Republic.

The Second Vermont Republic has been picking up steam for the past few years with over 13% of Vermont's population wishing to secede from the union.

There is something going on in Vermont and I intend to find out what it is.

To purchase book: Burn the town and sack the banks!

Second Vermont Republic

Obama Just Lost My Vote!

2008-07-09T07:20:00.000-07:00

His words say it all:

Your Child Should Learn to Speak Spanish

Secession, Rebellion ... the literary genre of violent separation

2008-07-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

First of all, please let me assure you, I am a peace loving guy that has a vivid imagination. I'm also interested in politics as it seems everyone is those days. I write fiction. Fiction, my friends, is not the truth. I've had to tell this to numerous people over the years.

For those who are interested, at my website Thomsontalks, I am writing a story about rebellion and secession. The views expressed in the story are not my own, but are borrowed from other people.

I've completed five chapters. If you have suggestions please send them to me. I will keep the book on the website(complete with constant revisions)until I've completed it. By the way, it's called The Southern Split.

Please enjoy!

The Changing Face of America

2008-07-08T08:57:00.000-07:00

Most people don’t know how big the world is. They live out their lives in the communities they call home and don’t even think about the subject. This is true even if they are Chinese, Scottish, New Zealand coal miners, or Maine lobster fishermen.

I live in Northern Virginia. Two deer have ambled into my backyard. One casually grabs a bite of a leaf hanging from a branch close to the ground. The forty acre field on the west side of my house is ringed by thick trees that hint of a dense forest beyond.

It’s all an illusion. What are beyond are busy highways, schools, shops, airports, and more of the same repeating over again.

Last week I found myself in the rather slummy heart of Sterling, Virginia. Most neighborhoods have a definite ethnic character. This one was as mixed up as a tossed salad. After I made my donation to Goodwill, I wandered into an Asian market and purchased some hot sauce - red pepper and vinegar – as I like it. When I went to check out, the clerk – I have no idea whether she was Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean- indicated by pointing to a sign that I needed more items to total ten dollars which is the store’s minimum on charge purchases. No English was spoken – nor was it needed.

Outside on the sidewalk were a young black man and a pregnant white woman. Shouting at them from across the street was another young black man. The conversation went something like this:

“Hey my niggah! Where you been my niggah?

“I just got out of jail.”

“What you there for?”

“Not paying my support... not paying my damn support.”

The three joined together and turned into a Mexican restaurant/pool hall to talk over the situation. Nearby, two young Vietnamese were arguing about the properties of an ancient Volvo’s fuel injection system. I understood enough Vietnamese to follow the conversation. I even understood the part where one of them kicked the car.

Soon I was driving west out of Sterling back into America again. I waved to the El Salvadoran children living at the bottom of the hill from my house …

The Murville Portal

2008-07-07T13:37:00.000-07:00

Inter-Dimensional Contact in the Deep South
(modified from the original version which originally appeared in Partial Observer Magazine)

by Michael H. Thomson

1022 South Evergreen Circle consisted of a one acre wooded lot with a two story frame house bordered by a white picket fence accessed by a red brick sidewalk. It was a scene out of the movies. Simple, homey, deceiving...

Deceiving because what went on in the interior of the house at 1022 South Evergreen Circle was not simple, homey or in anyway normal. George David Beasley operated a portal into another world, or you might say into several other worlds out of his simple southern home in Murville,Tennessee a city whose main industries were rolled aluminum and petroleum by-products.

At the moment he was having a conversation with a small floating stone. The stone was a traveling craft consisting of millions of sentient beings. The craft communicated with George by manipulating radio frequencies in George's am-fm radio at fm frequency 107.2. George listened intently as he quietly munched a sausage biscuit from the local Hardees.

If George were more evolved the bit with the radio wouldn't be necessary because the stone craft would have been able to tap directly into his brain with its transmission. Unknown to George, in the communications center of the stone were over a 1000 linguists, all experts in English/North America/Tennessee/southern interpreting every verbal and non-verbal nuance in George's speech. George simply perceived the stone as one entity.

The stone asked George all kinds of questions, some which he could answer and some too silly to respond to. All of this provided great entertainment to the passengers on the stone. For you see, the stone was a highly compressed intergalactic/inter-dimensional cruise vessel and the passengers were vacationers from over a thousand different planets spread through at least two hundred galaxies.

Through an advanced technology derived from hundreds of thousands of years of observation of black holes, the stone sailing vessel could compress itself and its passengers to micro particles capable of exploring molecules or much larger bodies such as planets depending upon the tour destination. This was astounding in itself, but not as astounding as the Intergalactic Species Standardized Unit Extension or ISSUE as it was commonly known.

ISSUE was a device which was bio-inserted directly into a species body. Smaller than a grain of salt - ISSUE could be injected or ingested. Once inside the organism, it "swam" to a location where it could attach itself safely without disrupting the organism's biological functions. Safely attached and secured, it activated and sent a signal to the brain of the host. Upon acknowledgement of ISSUE?s presence by the host's brain, a downloading process would begin complete with instructions for use.

ISSUE altered perceptions of the world being experienced by the host. On the host's home planet, for example, any type of perceived ugliness could be changed by the host simply issuing a mental command to ISSUE to change it. ISSUE could subtly or dramatically alter the perception of another entity's appearance. If there were a disfiguring mole on one's nose - ISSUE could erase it. Skin color, height, hair or lack of, number of appendages, etc, could all be dramatically modified by ISSUE. Physical modification was not the only aspect of ISSUE's capabilities. Odors, textures, light quality, humidity, and temperature perceptions could all be altered to a more pleasing state by the host. Then there were the emotional and attitudinal features.

ISSUE's default setting of "no conflict" made it impossible for the host to find fault or disagree with another entity. The settings, of course, could be changed to minimal, moderate, and extreme conflict depending upon the situation. Behavioral psychologists found this aspect of ISSUE extremely useful with disruptive children and violent criminals. In certain cases, the courts could order a host?s ISSUE options be limited by a simple program change. On the worlds where ISSUE was common, behavior modifying prescription drugs were a thing of the past.

George was fascinated by the concept of locking the settings on ISSUE. He could think of all kinds of possibilities.

Addressing the stone, he asked, "Who is authorized to change the settings of another entity's ISSUE program?"

The stone did a rollover and a modified loop-the-loop as it circled through George's living room and then hovered at eye level with George...

Through the FM frequency on George's radio, the stone replied, "That is a special package which is obviously limited to only a few entity's per planet. The best way we can describe it is the function of a webmaster on one of your planet's Internet websites. Certain areas of the site can be blocked or opened depending upon the desires of the webmaster. An entity with authorization, in addition to his own ISSUE program, also has an ISSUE controller's package which can communicate directly with individual or multiple ISSUE units..."

"Gotcha!" George replied, sending the stone's linguists scrambling for a quick interpretation.

George by education and experience was a physicist. Briefly he had been a faculty member of the Physics Department of the University of Tennessee. He was fired when his "outside the box" thinking caused so much disruption that the disciplined thinkers of that department just could not find any order in George's disorderly view of the Universe. George quietly left averting a number of potential nervous breakdowns among the physics faculty. Luckily, due to the generous bequest of a nutty, but very wealthy, uncle who had made millions in pyramid schemes, George had a nice trust fund to fall back on.

Making a vow never to venture into the world of WORK again, George set up a home laboratory to pursue his theories. For laughs and giggles - and appearances - George taught a non-credit remedial English course at Nathaniel Bedford Forrest College. Since no one at NBFC gave a flip about remedial English - except for the tuition dollars it brought in - George had free rein. Remedial English became one of the most popular courses at the school.

Unknown to faculty and administration, George, through his class, was developing a cadre of guerrilla physicists who did practical experiments with String Theory and spoke knowingly of parallel universes and wormholes. In another place and time, George's disciples might have been called witches and warlocks. The brightest and best of George's remedial English students became his lab assistants.

It was one of George's lab assistants who discovered the portal. He literally fell into it! George had been taking a break, drinking coffee and watching the Simpsons in his living room. He didn't hear the commotion from the laboratory behind his house. When he returned he was astounded to see a foot encased in a shoe - with a bit of exposed ankle - hovering in the air. Looking around for his lab assistant and not seeing him, George quickly deduced who the foot belonged to. Quickly George grabbed the foot and pulled. Slowly the lab assistant emerged from the portal.

Trained by George to accept the abnormal as the norm, the lab assistant reported that he had landed on some kind of street in a world that didn't look like earth. He was being approached by what he determined to be some type of police creature when George pulled him back through the portal.

From that time forward, George would get occasional visitors through the portal. Usually they didn't stay long - looked around and were gone. Murville seemed to do that to people.

After a few cautious trips through the portal, George and his assistants determined their portal led into a city that was a nexus for several portals. The police creatures turned out to be bio-mechanical robots monitoring the portals for any suspicious activities prohibited by Galactic and Inter-Dimensional legal protocol.

Murville,Tennessee, unbeknownst to its residents had become a portal to the rest of the Universe. George had sent four assistants on scouting missions to the other portals. It was on one of the missions that the traveling "stone" was encountered.

"Okay, how do I get some of those ISSUE units and a controller package?" George asked.

"We thought you'd never ask. ISSUE units are distributed free - you have to sign for the controller package."

"Sign - sign what?" At that moment the stone glowed and a bright green ray of light streamed out of it towards George's floor. Green mist swirled spectacularly and when it cleared - standing in front of George was a woman.

The woman - very beautiful - was attired in a Las Vegas showgirl costume complete with a peacock feather headdress which touched George's ceiling. A few of George?s assistants came in and gawked, George shooed them away.

The woman handed George a tablet and stylus. Written on the tablet was a standard Galactic/Inter-Dimensional boilerplate contract with language that stipulated that George David Beasley would not abuse his ISSUE controller privileges upon penalty of having his portal rights denied. George signed the tablet and was starting to ask the showgirl to go to lunch with him when she suddenly disappeared. In her place were two boxes, each labeled in English.

The first box was labeled ISSUE units-human, quantity 500. The second, very small container was labeled ISSUE control assembly-human, quantity 1 ea. Before George could ask the stone any questions it zipped away through the portal which George had framed and decorated with colorful beaded strings. He had no way to summon it back and probably would not get another visit for about six weeks. The inter-galactic/inter-dimensional tour business must be hot he thought... Nevertheless, George was not going to wait six weeks to start having fun with ISSUE. He was a physicist after all, he would figure it out.

Later that afternoon...

"Murville Chamber of Commerce, 'We're here to keep Aluminum in your future," how may I direct your call?" The receptionist answered.

"Let me speak to Bubba," George said. He heard a couple of clicks and then a voice.

"Bubba Lamarck Foshee, here. How can I help you?"

"Bubba is 'Bubba' a given name or a nickname? George always wanted to ask Bubba that question and he guessed now was as good a time as any.

Bubba Foshee had been the director of the local chamber for as long as George could remember. Managing various Murville events took most of Bubba's time. There was the annual Wild Hog Appreciation Day, The Murville Muscadine Grape Festival, and the biggest - Big Creek County Paper Day - sponsored by the local paper mill. Last year's Paper Festival had been one of Bubba's major accomplishments.

The festival had been built around a Grecian theme. The entire town showed up for the festival decked out in togas. Small stalls selling everything from art and sculpture to barbecued alligator tails were festooned with colorful tapestry and positioned among huge Greek columns made entirely of toilet paper rolls compliments of the Big Creek Paper Company. Bubba Lamarck Foshee had choreographed the entire event. He would remember the festival as one of his crowning achievements. The local paper, The Murville Mouth, headlined the event with a centerpiece photograph showing Bubba in his toga standing in front of the toilet paper columns. The caption read: Bubba the Greek...

"Yes, Bubba is my given name. This is George Beasley isn't it? Only you would ask me that question. Yes, George, my daddy was a Bubba; my grandaddy was a Bubba and his daddy before him. When they got to me they decided to make it formal. Bubba's on my birth certificate. What can I help you with, George?" Bubba asked.

"I need to plan a banquet for the Chamber members and I thought you could help me with it." George said.

"A banquet - what kind of banquet?" Bubba asked. This was highly unusual for George he thought.

"It's a memorial banquet for my late uncle, David Henry Beasley. You know the one that left me and the town all that money."

"Everybody remembers Mr. David, George. Why have you waited ten years to do this? As I remember, you didn't even have a funeral for him. Somebody told me that his ashes are in a cardboard box on your window sill." Bubba had known George since childhood and had no qualms about being direct with him.

"Guilt Bubba, just plain guilt... It's been bothering me for years and I've just recently decided to do something about it. Anyway, everyone in the Chamber is invited and I'll pick up the tab, of course. And...Bubba, I'm calling you on this because you're the only one I know who can pull it off the way Uncle David would like it." Flattery was Bubba's biggest weakness and George shamelessly exploited it.

Bubba agreed to put the memorial together and was honored to be a major part the event. David Henry Beasley had been revered by all. Maybe George Beasley wasn't so odd after all. Bubba wondered if tiny aluminum place holders would be appropriate on the banquet tables. He'd get to work on the planning right away.

Three weeks later...

The David Henry Beasley Memorial Dinner was a big success Everyone in the Murville Chamber of Commerce came to the community banquet and meeting facility to watch George David Beasley spend his uncle's money. George had volunteered his laboratory assistants to Bubba to serve as waiters. Each assistant had a supply of ISSUE grains. As they worked their way through the tables, the assistants would drop a solitary grain into the guests' wine glasses by the use of a special dispenser George had designed that fit into each assistant's sleeve. The grains were totally invisible.

Sitting at the head table, George watched each guest as they drank their wine and chatted with each other. In the cases where no wine was being consumed by a guest, George signaled his assistants to drop the grain in the guest's water glass. George had no illusions that he would be able to infect everyone at the banquet with the alien, super-nano, ISSUE technology, but like a good physicist, he had calculated his probability to 99.9 %.

George was ready. For the past few weeks with the aid of his assistants, George had fine tuned his skills with the ISSUE controller package. The results were remarkable. For the first time since his association with them, his assistants weren't bickering or bruising each others egos. He didn't worry as much when he sent them on scouting forays from "Portal City" as they now referred to the nexus. He was constantly linked with them wherever they were - and best still - he had total control...

Before activating the ISSUE units and going to work, George relaxed a bit to enjoy the festivities. Murville's mayor, Roscoe Johnson - the man with the perpetual smile - was getting up to make a presentation. George with his trained powers of observation noticed something about Roscoe that was peculiar. George was surprised he hadn't noticed this before, but of course, George hardly ever attended events of this kind in Murville. Roscoe Johnson was a kleptomaniac - or at least he appeared to be.

As Roscoe spoke, George noticed that the mayor had the disconcerting habit of reaching around the podium, the table, wherever he was standing, and go through the motions of picking objects up, putting them down, and moving his hand to his jacket pocket like he was stuffing it. He wasn't of course, but George decided to have a little fun anyway. George activated the mayor's internal ISSUE unit and mentally issued some commands. The mayor gave a brief shudder and continued speaking.

In Roscoe's mind, suddenly every piece of silverware looked like it was made of 24 karat gold. It was amazing, he thought, no one else seemed to notice this. Slyly, as he spoke, he would reach for a knife, fork, soup spoon, dessert spoon, or butter knife and drop it into his pocket. Soon his pockets were bulging. As he spoke, he began to clank. The crowd thinking it was some kind of joke began to laugh. By now the mayor was clanking furiously wondering what was so funny. George turned to his next victim.

Ford Ferrell, the assistant District Attorney, and private legal practitioner - who practiced sexual harassment so he could better understand it -was accompanied to the banquet by his newest secretary. His wife couldn't be there because she was recuperating from injuries suffered from a scuffle when she and Ferrell were having a friendly disagreement.

Ford's secretary was a ravishing beauty. Ford could hardly keep his hands off her. The naive girl, seeking to please her boss, whispered sly comments to Ford, her lips brushing his neck. Ford could hardly wait until the dumb banquet was over. He had plans for his secretary. At that thought, George activated Ferrell's ISSUE unit.

Laughing at the mayor, Ford momentarily forgot about his secretary. Catching a strong whiff of her perfume he turned to look at her. What he saw turned him cold and froze him on the spot. His beautiful secretary had been replaced by a creature that vaguely resembled a human, but had the head of a wild boar, complete with tusks. It was slobbering and baring its tusks as its head suddenly moved towards Ford's neck. Ford screamed and scrambled across the table knocking over Mrs. Wallace Hunter, the head of the local social services agency. He was still screaming as he headed out the door.

Darwin James III who since the death of David Henry Beasley had occupied the enviable niche of richest man in town looked on in amazement. Darwin who loved a joke as well as the next person wondered what was going on. Something was going on that wasn't on the script because he noticed that Bubba Lamarck Foshee was going nuts. Bubba's toupee was slipping from his head due to overactive perspiration. Darwin still couldn't get the joke; he turned back to his roast beef and mashed potatoes. Zing! Darwin's ISSUE unit was suddenly activated. Darwin's overfilled plate was full of huge white grub worms! Not paying attention, Darwin speared one with his fork. Noticing the change in his cuisine and finally alert, Darwin observed that everyone's plate was full of grub worms. Like the bull that he was, Darwin lifted the table and sent everyone's plates, glasses, and silverware crashing to the floor.

Confusion was reigning at the David Henry Foshee's Memorial Dinner. The guests were getting nervous. Something unexplainable was going on. Some got up to leave. George decided that this would be a good time to rein everyone in. He activated everyone's ISSUE units and mentally commanded the unit to go to the default mode of "No Conflict." Like magic the room quieted down. One last experiment before going home, he thought. He issued commands.

Everyone politely rose to their feet and queued up to go out the entranceway of the banquet facility. With his mind, like a pied piper, George issued commands and assembled the group on the main street in front of the building. Suddenly the group of Chamber members began dancing in unison and singing the song, The Tennessee Waltz. Under the streetlamps it looked like a Broadway play. As everyone sang, George gathered his assistants and headed home...

High above the singing and dancing crowd of Chamber members, a small stone floated around the smoke stack of a plant which was located across the street. Inside the captain's lounge, two creatures of differing species tipped their glasses to each other.

"Well, Zorg, it looks like you've done it again. Another planet has been infected and will soon be under Galactic/Inter-Dimensional control."

"Yes Bleeb, that is so, however I've got one more thing to do to tidy things up..."

George David Foshee and his assistants walked towards his home. All were laughing and congratulating themselves on a fine evening and a successful experiment.

Zing! George suddenly shuddered...

Ten minutes later...

Ralph and Faye Kedeski maneuvered their Winnebago motor home up U.S. 411 towards Murville. After a month at Destin Beach in Florida, Ralph and Faye were ready to get back to their grandkids in Appleton, Wisconsin. The slowdown in traffic was irritating. Nearing the intersection with U.S. 321, both gawked with amazement at what looked like the entire town in the street - dancing and singing in unison.

Bubba Lamarck Foshee was leading the group in The Village People's popular song YMCA. He'd pulled his shirt off and used his tie as a bandana. The police chief, Barney Fifesson had stripped down to his skivvies and a shoulder holster. The chamber members began dancing towards Ralph and Faye's motor home. Fearful, Ralph gunned the engine and roughly ran the RV across a set of railroad tracks. As he made his turn north towards Wisconsin he careened and nearly drove through the window of The Bank of Murville as he fled the scene.

"What wrong Ralph? Why are you driving so recklessly? You're going to kill us! Faye had dropped her knitting in the floor.

"Trust me honey. We've got to get out of here! I don't know what that scene back there is all about, but - THOSE PEOPLE DEFINITELY HAVE ISSUES!

John Adams - a must read - a must see

2008-07-01T15:52:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I was running errands in Sterling Virginia - a place that seems to have all the shops and services required by the Thomson family. At the luggage repair shop I met this talkative fellow who in the course of the conversation asked me if I had seen the HBO mini-series John Adams. I told the fellow that I had read the book and bought the entire collection of disks when they went on sale at Target over the weekend.

He told me - and I agree - this several hour long docudrama will complete your education on the Revolutionary War.

All my life, I have stood uncomfortably in faked reverence when someone wraps a flag around themselves and starts spouting off, idealistically, about our "forefathers."

The "forefathers" - it turns out - were just as "up in your face" as politicians today. This country's formative years were fragile and could have gone in several different directions.

Whether you are a Democrat or Republican ... or an Independent like myself, you should take the time to rent or buy "John Adams" and be proud of your beliefs. Contention is a good thing...

The Christian Wackadoo - Brother James Dobson

2008-06-24T05:17:00.000-07:00

To call this guy a moral authority would be really stretching it. First he distances himself from John McCain and says there's no way he can vote for the man, and now he is attacking Barack Obama for being scripturally inaccurate in comments Obama made two years ago.

Heathen Episcopalian that I am, it is difficut for me to understand how Dobson got elevated to his present stature in the Christian Community.

Will someone please tell Dobson that no one is paying attention anymore?

Outside Agitators?

2008-05-18T17:18:00.000-07:00

As I should have, I've read and reread Mark Boxley's article about Mayor Cunningham's remarks at the Lincoln Day Dinner. One more remark impresses me...

But we have some of these far-lefters coming in here, and they hit the county line coming into Blount County criticizing everything that moves.

Do you know what this sounds like? This sounds exactly like the comments Alabamians made about civil rights workers coming into Selma. "Outside agitators" they were called.

I have a lot of respect for U.S. Senator Lamar Alexander, who was also present at the event, but if I were him, I would do everything I could to disassociate myself with Cunningham's comments.

Remarks to a friendly crowd...

2008-05-18T14:20:00.000-07:00

Oops! I made a mistake. Without researching further, I wrote a blog about Mayor Cunningham's apology for remarks he actually made on May 9 at the annual Lincoln Day Republican fundraiser. In error I did not notice, until someone reminded me, that his apology came several days later. Well... this makes for an even better blog.

There were 350 Republicans at this gathering and they all (assuredly) heard the remark. The real story would to interview these attendees and get their public reactions to Cunningham's comments about the Democrats who were victim's of Cunningham's diatribe.

I made a mistake, but ... I do not apologize for a criticism I made of Democrat's accepting his "gracious" apology. This is a pattern followed by Republicans nationwide. Make an outrageous statement and then apologize after the damage has been done. Cunningham knew what he was doing when he made his remarks.

There is no forum where a politician can make remarks without fear of being monitored. I would even be careful of where I prayed... Barack Obama found out the hard way about how "private" remarks can come back and bite you in the ass after he made his "bitter" comments in San Francisco.

Cunningham has been around politics for a long time. He is no virgin. He is also an elected public servant who is supposed to be serving "all" the people and not just the whims and wishes of the "in" crowd.

One remark, that particularly got me, was the remark that, according to Cunningham, most of his critics came from "someplace else." My God, Jerry, where did you expect them to come from? With Blount's growth rate, new people are a guaranteed certainty. With new people come new ideas and unfortunately, for Jerry, they don't seem to particularly care for the "old boy" crowd that has dominated Blount County politics for as long as I can remember.

His remarks and apology come right out of the Republican "dirty tricks" playbook. Maybe it's time for Jerry Cunningham to move on.

Is George Bush Scared!

2008-05-15T06:36:00.000-07:00

Here we go again. An American politician in a foreign country speaking as if the folks at home aren't monitoring his words. Before I go there, let's take a look at recent events regarding the Bush Administration:

Muammar Qaddafi is a terrorist... is that right? Didn't this guy sponsor terrorism out of Libya for years before we did anything about him? Didn't we bomb his tent and kill his daughter. Just checking - I think my history is right on that. Anyway, didn't the Bush Administration recently NEGOTIATE with Qaddafi and bring him into the fold and aren't we now trading with him - oil - I think it is...

Kim Jung Il - am I wrong or doesn't this guy sponsor terrorists and sell missiles to our enemies. Didn't he just recently frighten us when he claimed to have created nuclear weapons? Didn't we send emissaries to China to NEGOTIATE with this bozo?

Now we have George Bush speaking to the Israeli Knesset low grading Barack Obama for even having the audacity to suggest we begin talks with Iran. Where is this guy coming from?

Could it be that having lost 3 traditional Republican seats to Democrats in recent special elections, Bush may have seen fit to interfere in the Democratic primary process - doing something unheard of - lambasting an American political candidate while in a foreign country. I'm sure John McCain appreciates his help...

Oh - and by the way - in the photo above, George is holding hands with the leader of the country that supplied most of the terrorists who attacked the World Trade Center.

Shame on you George...

Limbaugh and Lou Dobbs

2008-05-09T10:39:00.000-07:00

In my political journey, I used to be fans of both of these guys. Now, it is all I can do to listen to them. Limbaugh, I noticed is being pointedly referred to as comedian by some political pundits. There are many reasons why I originally left Limbaugh, but recently his interference with the American Election process has been the clincher. There have been too many young Americans who have recently died to keep our elections free and untampered with to put up with the stunts of Rush Limbaugh.

Another media demagogue who in his own way has contributed to the rise of hate in America is commentator Lou Dobbs. CNN better remove Dobbs soon or they will suffer a lowering of viewership.

Here is a test for you if you are follower of Dobbs. His polls. Have you ever counted the numbers? Each night he gets about 9000 to eleven thousand responses to the loaded questions he asks. I'm starting to think his viewship is not too much over that.

Would you be surprised that Dobbs wife, Debbi Segura Dobbs is herself a Mexican. A Mexican with a criminal record. Dobbs has a lot to hide.

Both these guys are opportunists i.e. they're both in it for the money and will do or say anything to keep those dollars flowing...

Representative McCord Lights Up!

2008-05-07T15:43:00.002-07:00

Representative Joe McCord of Maryville has little problem with being blatantly hypocritical. In what seems like a comical farce - if it wasn't so serious - the legislator openly defies the state's no smoking ban in public buildings. He does this by establishing a smoking and obviously a drinking room in a state office building. While everyone else must go outside, McCord and his chums smoke and drink away on YOUR nickle.

I don't know McCord but is he known to be a hypocrite? Looking at the lengths the man had gone to dodge the law, if I were a citizen of Blount County, I would most definitely be looking at every piece of legislation with his name on it.

What happens to these guys once they get elected? Is it something in the water?

McCord lights up!

The Election in Pennsylvania

2008-04-23T18:16:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought it was over - it isn't ... at least not yet. From Iowa until now, what I've learned is that this election season is unpredictable. Both Hillary and Barack Obama are relentless in pursuit of the prize. Dirty tricks by both campaigns are amazing. "Swift boating" looks tame compared to Hillary's "Bosnia Flap" and Obama's "Reverend Jerimiah Wright Scandal." No matter how you look at either Hillary or Obama, neither one of these two are political virgins.

Truthfully, I don't like any of them. And just in case your wondering, I don't like McCain either. I have labels for each of them: Obama - slick; Hillary - the fibber; McCain - more of the same.

Has our political process devolved to this? Our country has real problems that require real world solutions and it seems to me that something is missing. Why does each of the candidates have to be millionaires?

Look around you - how many of your buddies are millionaires? What happened to politically "incorrect" presidential candidates? All of these guys are so tame in what they utter, I get bored.

It is scary that each of these candidates seem like they're "owned" by someone.

Here are my politically incorrect fears:

Hillary wants eight more years(counting her husband's time)of making as much money as she can from the office.

Obama is a wolf in sheep's clothing. I fear that he will go on a prosecutorial witch hunt against the Bush Administration. He is so revolutionary, I fear his campaign is a major exercise in deception. I don't think America is ready for blood in the streets.

McCain has that "far away" look that makes one scared that his thumb on the button with the chemistry of his temper makes for a bad mix.

Is there anybody else? Where's Guy Fawkes when you need him?

Highway 73 Beer Joints

2008-04-17T15:40:00.000-07:00

Living at Hubbard, it was impossible to go home without passing two drive-in restaurants, a major automobile junkyard, a drive-in movie theatre, and two beer joints.

These two beer joints could get you in trouble. First they were both right on the highway and it was impossible at certain times at night to pass by without risking a collision with some hapless drunk heading home. Second, if you were a tourist, and accidently wandered in by mistake, you might end up having a very exciting evening...

Beer joints down South are not the same as "bars" up north. Fights were almost always a guarantee. If you ever had any curiousity about the criminal element, a beer joint could bring you up close and personal. Scratch-off games, pinball machines that paid off in cash, and low-level prostitution were not uncommon. If you were willing to pay a premium price, a bottle of bootleg whiskey could be had - saving a trip to Knoxville.

Not very far from my home at Hubbard, there was a beer joint that literally "hung" off the side of the hill in the low part of a hollow. It had no parking area to speak of and the "empties" were piled up along the side of the building. These beer joints did not check ID's so it was wasn't unusual for an underage crowd to frequent these places. One story that is my favorite was of two boys - one rowdy and one a teetotaler. On this night the rowdy one went missing. There was a death in the family and everyone was looking for him. The "tame" brother who looked remarkably like the "rowdy" one, started searching the beer joints. Without cell phones searches like this were difficult. As the "tame" brother wandered in to the beer joint, he was knocked cold by a beer bottle across the head.

The dangers of mistaken identity...

The Family Genealogist

2008-04-16T07:13:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been to a genealogy website? They're everywhere. Someone decides they are going to do the family a favor and chronicle it's history with no idea how much confusion they are going to cause by their efforts. Sometimes what results can be a disaster, particularly if the chronicler is basing his or her information on the partial memories of someone who has no memories left. I've seen some of those sites and I'm sure you have as well.

Then there is the "everybody arrived riding white horses" website... All the history is purged and purified. There were are no black sheep ... not even any gray ones.

In our family we have a great genealogical website. The person who runs it is top notch. Ironically, Claudia Carson, who compiles the Whitehead family history, is a "yankee" and runs the website from her home on Long Island in New York. She has many insights into Blount County just from the experience she has in compiling our family history.

Claudia's secret is that she is non-exclusionary. In other words she has made a decision to include everyone who goes by the family surname. Our family website is full of photographs, stories, and bits of information that relate to our family and other closely related surnames. Our chronicler's methods are scientific and to the best of my knowledge - accurate. Claudia would not claim to be a professional genealogist, but by her actions and discipline, you have no doubt that the history she is compiling is authentic.

There are photographs at our site that you won't find anywhere else. While I've been under the weather, I've explored some of many pages of family history that Claudia Carson has compiled on the Whitehead family. She has located Whiteheads from all over the United States and has made contacts with some in other countries... all from her little home in Long Island...

The website is protected and if you are interested in taking a peek, contact me at miket@thomsontalks.com.

Getting Back into the Swing of Things!

2008-04-10T05:08:00.001-07:00

It's tough to be sick. That's where I've been for the past couple of months. It started out with chest pain. Chest pain that resulted in me seeing a cardiologist who schedules me for an angiogram which results in the implantation of two stents to deal with blockages in my heart.

Then...after a few days, I'm so happy I attempt to set a world speed record for testing out my new equipment. Boom! Not taking into account that muscles sprain very easy in cold weather, I disable myself and have for the past several weeks been hobbling painfully everywhere I go. THEN...

While all this is going on... My medications get screwed up and for about two weeks and I'm wandering around in some state of mental confusion. I felt like I've lost an interesting patch of my memory. Now, finally, just in time for Spring, I am finally starting the recover.

I've got 90 percent of the leg functioning again and 100 percent of my brain. I'm only telling people that 50% of my brain is okay. You would be surprised at the amount of crap you can get out of with that excuse. That's a joke...

I'm ready to write again. Send me something!

It's getting rough in Maryville...

2008-03-27T11:11:00.001-07:00

I notice that sheriff's deputies are getting a little touchy about what seems to me some of the normal crap they have to put up with when it comes to being a deputy. You've got one who is so sensitive that he is now suing a member of the court body for accusing him of wearing a wire. How nuts! Sounds like another episode of "We can't do the crap were supposed to be doing because we're upset about the crap were doing."

Good old Blount County. Everybody is at each other's throats. Move on people!

Fluoride - It's "encroaching Communism," Folks!

2008-01-24T07:22:00.000-08:00

While a member of the Communist Party, I attended Communist training schools in New York and Wisconsin ... and we were trained in the revolutionary overthrow of the U.S. Government. "... We discussed quite thoroughly the fluoridation of water supplies and how we were using it in Russia as a tranquilizer in the prison camps. The leaders of our school felt that if it could be induced into the American water supply, it would bring about a spirit of lethargy in the nation, where it could keep the general public docile during a steady encroachment of Communism. alleged communist Kenneth Goff

The nutcase who made this statement was appearing at churches in the East Tennessee area in the early sixties, in most cases sponsored by elements of the John Birch Society. Another more lovable nutcase, groceryman Cas Walker, was making the case against fluoridation on his weekly tv show. It seems like the messages of Goff and Walker stuck with a few folks even up until today. According to today's Daily Times, customers in the South Blount County Utility District are exercised about the fluoridation of their water supply:

District Manager Henry Durant has) been getting a lot of phone calls from people that are upset,” said utility spokeswoman Stacie Keller. “We don’t usually get phone calls (about issues). When I talked with the secretary (Tuesday), they had gotten 10 to 20 calls from customers who were upset and said, ‘You should have done a survey and asked our input.’

Now I have been drinking fluoridated water for many years. Trust me, it is not the cause of my insanity. However, as a young person it was amazing to me how many rural teenage peers of mine were wearing false teeth by the age of 25. We all drank well water back then and I remember the extensive dental work I had to go through to be accepted into U.S. Air Force flight school at the age of 21. There IS something nasty in Blount County water people...

To be fair and balanced, like Fox News, I did see something disturbing in the South Blount County Utility District public statement by Stacie Keller:

“As we have stated in the past, the benefits of fluoridation in public water is a very inconclusive issue, with valid research and arguments to support both sides. SBCUD wants to remain focused on moving forward and does not want to allow the issue of fluoridation to diminish our district’s progress nor hinder us from achieving our future goals.

An "inconclusive issue" and your going to do it anyway? As prejudiced as I am towards the anti-fluoridation folks, I think this stance by BCUD is sort of irresponsible, or maybe... I am CRAZY!

Until next time...

Leave Chilhowee Mountain Alone!

2007-12-31T05:09:00.000-08:00

The photograph to the right is a view of Happy Valley and the Great Smokies as seen from Look Rock on Chilhowee Mountain.

I grew up at the foot of Chilhowee Mountain and I could go into a generalized rant about the importance of protecting it from greedy developers - which it seems Blount County is full of these days. I personally know a couple of these guys from years back. They were low lifes then and they're low lifes now - only with fancier suits. These guys are so good that when trying to buy property, they will convince the seller that "their - the buyer's" development costs are so high that it's a great sacrifice to them personally to have to pay a dime more than the appraised value for a piece of pristine mountain land. I know that doesn't sound logical but it's true. If Cades Cove hadn't been taken over by the National Park Service, I guarantee today you would never see a deer, turkey, or bear, but instead would see stack on stack of condos occupied by Floridians,New Yorkers, and half of Atlanta.

Okay, that is my emotional rant. Below is a letter to the Daily Times by someone much more eloquent than I am who has given a good part of his life and energy to protecting the natural beauty and resources of Blount County Tennessee.

Protecting Chilhowee Mountain important

Dear Editor:

I would like to express my opinion concerning the Planning Commission’s quest for information about scenic views that should be protected. I really appreciate The Daily Times for providing this forum for discussing a very important topic. I appreciate, too, the efforts of the Planning Commission to gather public thoughts about what changes should be made to the county’s 1999 Policies Plan.

I agree with commission member Brownlie that “we need to write tough regulations. Everybody understands the mountains are our resources.”

Chilhowee Mountain is a complex of scenic views and is in itself the most outstanding of scenic views in Blount County. How we deal with it might dictate the policies for the rest of the county.

My fear is that if we set up rules that piece-meal development of certain overlooks along Chilhowee Mountain that would only serve to enable development on the whole mountain. Development that is allowed in certain areas will only serve to set precedents for other areas and encourage wholesale development.

Looking at specific view areas that the county wants to protect sounds like “spot regulations” rather than countywide rules. Allowing development because of the quality involved, as stated in a recent article, seems to be an elitist approach. I hope that doesn’t mean that a well-known expensive hotel could be built on a local mountain top when other lesser financed structures could not. Quality designed and quality built developments demand that roads be built, sewer reckoned with, lighting tolerated, etc. in the same sense that less quality structures demand. These alterations to the mountainside do in themselves produce changed watercourses, erosion, and water pollution to those properties below.

My wish and my recommendation does concern Chilhowee Mountain. We need a rule, a regulation in black and white, that’s made to limit any development to below 1,000 feet from the mountain top. In other words, no development would be allowed on top of the mountain or within 1,000 feet of the top.

The north face of Chilhowee Mountain is foremost in my mind of views that should be protected. Chilhowee Mountain is the first view of the total mountain range when approaching Maryville and Alcoa from Knoxville on U.S. 129. From Mimosa Heights, Chilhowee Mountain appears to be the guardian of the Great Smoky Mountains. The view of Chilhowee Mountain from Maryville Municipal Building is incredible. Also, try stopping by the Foothills Elementary School to get another outstanding view of this treasure of Blount County.

A drive down Carpenter’s Grade Road or Six Mile Road gives one a full view of Chilhowee Mountain from Butterfly Gap, to Indian Grave Gap and the Devil’s Cockspur and on to Alleghaney. From the area of Heritage High School, the Walland Water Gap is a terrific sight. The Three Sisters, on toward the east, stand majestically as they were shown to be in pictures taken in the 1890s.

Driving on the Foothills Parkway, along the top of Chilhowee Mountain, gives us a breathtaking view of the valley all the way to the Cumberland Mountains. Looking in the other direction, we have a wide view of the Smoky Mountains up to the crest that separates Tennessee from North Carolina.

The very name of Chilhowee has come to be very important to Blount County citizens over the years. Several businesses have incorporated the name in their title. There’s the Chilhowee Baptist Association and the Chilhowee Baptist Center. We have Old Chilhowee Baptist Church and Lower Chilhowee Baptist Church. Some Knox County and Sevier County institutions have followed the same trend.

Other reasons to protect all of Chilhowee Mountain emerge when we look at other sides of the mountain’s history. Landslides have occurred at times on the mountain. At least three landsides are evident when you drive over the Parkway. Several fault caves are to be found in different areas. The area around Look Rock is an example. There have been at least two earthquakes in modern times that centered on the Chilhowee mountainside. The Guess Creek Fault and the Great Smoky Fault seem to parallel the mountain and help define its fragile side. All these factors have to do with the handling of water and sewer and roads from any development.

Almost every weekend there are at least 1,000 homes advertised for sale in The Daily Times. Many of these homes are publicized as having mountain views, even splendid mountain views. At least 60 percent of those views must be of Chilhowee Mountain. The mountain is so revered by Blount County’s people and so admired by our visitors. Let’s protect it.

Sincerely,
William B. “Booty” Miller
2153 Jericho Road
Maryville, TN 37803

"Nobodies" in Tennessee get Busted for Drugs while "Somebodies" skate free

2007-12-14T14:21:00.000-08:00

In almost every city in Tennessee you read about the such and such "Drug Task Force" arresting some "nobody" for drug possession or distribution. That's very good and I applaud it because I think illegal and some legal drugs are the bane of American society.

Steroid abuse has become so common place in all sports that most fans grudingly accept it, causing me to wonder why baseball, football, and certain track and field events don't just set up different leagues and classifications for steroid and non-steriod athletes. If the steriod users want shorter lifespans in trade for weight gain and hitting the ball out of the park consistently so be it. Forget the argument about being role models for kids - it's not convincing. Pull your 15 year old football player,baseball player,soccer player,or high school weightlifter into the den for a chat. Do they know any of their peers who take steroids? You betcha! Have they ever thought about taking steroids - be tipped off by the nervous foot shuffle.

We live in a culture where drugs are becoming more and more acceptable. The police and enforcers of drug law are conflicted. They want to do a good job of ridding Tennessee society of marijuana,cocaine(crack and powder),and certainly want to shut down methamphetamine production and distribution, but struggle with the issue of going after the "big fish" in their town and locality who regularly use drugs,check in frequently to rehab centers, and feel they are "untouchable" and immune from the force of the law. These "untouchables" may be attorneys, county commissioners, wealthy mill and plant owners, and successful business people. It's okay for them to use drugs, but not so for the "scum."

So what does Law do? To make good theatre for the law abiding folks who are in every Tennessee community, the drug task force goes after "nobody" scum that everybody would suspect would be on or selling drugs anyway. It's called the "path of least resistance" and it keeps them out of trouble with their bosses who play golf and suck up to the "somebodies," who, by the way, prefer their cocaine powdered.

If I ain't telling the truth, shoot me!

Alien Abduction in Maryville

2007-11-30T08:51:00.000-08:00

I've never experienced alien abduction,although I'm sure there are some who would doubt that. However, I have personally known a couple who once lived in Maryville who claimed it happened to them.

The story begins in 1972 when my ex-wife,Judi,and I were invited to the home of a colleague of mine. I won't tell you exactly where they lived, but I will tell you that their home was located in the slightly irregular square formed by W. Broadway,Best St,Montvale Station Road, and Montvale Rd.

During the visit, my friends originally from Ohio, asked Judi and I if we knew any ghost tales from the Smokies. My tale-telling grandfather grew up on Abrams Creek before the National Park arrived, so I had heard plenty of tales. Judi's ancestors came directly out of the Cove, so she had heard more than a few tales herself. We shared some with our friends. Strangely, they did not share any tales with us, making me wonder why they brought the subject up in the first place.

As the conversation progressed, W..., my friend, asked if I believed in UFOs. I replied that I was open minded on the subject and did not think it was a matter of belief - you've either seen one or you haven't. He then replied that he and his wife had seen one. "Where?" I asked. "In our backyard," he replied.

He went on to explain that a few weeks before that he and his wife had been awakened by strange noises and flashing lights in their backyard. They both said that the lights disoriented them and they saw a vehicle of strange design in their yard. They also said that it seemed as if they were both in a dream and it seemed as if time were "stretched."

By this time I was starting to wonder if I had sloshed too much Budweiser. I think they became embarrassed because Judi and I were reacting as if they were telling tall tales like we had just told them. We saw the couple several times after that and the story was never repeated again. That is... not until 17 years later.

My friend's career skyrocketed after that. He and and his wife went back to Ohio where he took a high position with the government. A few years passed and I, divorced now, was transferred to Austin, Texas. Shortly after I arrived, my friend transferred to Bastrop, Texas near Bergstrom AFB where he had received another promotion with the government with higher responsibility. No repeat of the story.

In 1988, I retired from the Army and moved to a home I owned in Brewton, Alabama. Little did I know that my friend had transferred to Eglin AFB base where this time he had taken a very lofty government service position in a top secret weapons laboratory. They lived in a city near Eglin that was only an hour away from me in Brewton, Alabama.

Early in 1989 my daughter had to take her SAT test and the location of the test was in the town where my friends lived. I called my friend and told him this. He immediately invited us to spend the night with him and his wife and that he would drop my daughter off the following morning for her test and his wife and I could visit and catch up on gossip.

After my friend amd my daughter left, his wife and I shared some croissants and coffee in the dining room. Bravely, I asked her if she remembered the night we told "ghost" stories 17 years back. Her reaction was startling. She began crying.

She related to me that the night Judi and I visited that she and my friend had not been totally honest with us. She went on to say that the part about the flashing lights and the strange vehicle was true, but she and her husband were afraid to tell us that they had actually BOARDED the vehicle. Then she started crying again. When she recovered she said that they were separated from each other and the creatures who were directing the show performed medical experiments on them. She showed me a scar on her ankle where one of the creatures inserted some type of tube in her leg and removed a large amount of blood.

As she concluded the story she said that over the years, her husband had become stoic about the experience. He would not deny it happened but he would not talk about it,keeping it within himself. My friend's heart had deteriorated and his wife claimed that part of the problem was the affect of keeping their bizarre experience to himself over the years. I frankly told her that if my friend had told the tale and even undergone a polygraph,his career with the government would be over. She said that is what he told her, but was still frustrated because she was witnessing her husband dying before her eyes.

I too, was frustrated because I could not help both my friends who were among the best people I've ever known. A year after my friend's wife told me the full story, he dropped dead after teaching a Sunday school class in his church.

I still don't know what to make of it after all these years. My friend's phenomenal success ran counter to his education and experience. And his wife - about 3 years after her husband died - remarried - a millionaire with a yacht.

************

There is another Blount County tale of a man who saw alien creatures and strange spacecraft and went on to become successful and extremely prominent out of proportion to his education and experience. He should be about 79 years old and is a former elected official. I understand he hangs out with a group of guys at a well known coffee hangout. I will save this tale for a later day. He walks among you and his name is extremely familiar.

Until next time...

The Colonel, the County Judge, and Nehi Soda

2007-11-29T08:10:00.000-08:00

Blount County is not the same place I left in 1978. It has changed tremendously in culture and population. At the time I left, there was roughly 75,000 people residing in the county compared to approximately 115,000 today. 40,000 newcomers in 29 years.

Now you can buy liquor in a liquor store instead of from a bootlegger or driving to Knox County. In 1978 and years previous, buying liquor or drinking alcohol openly on your deck or side porch was a taboo. Somebody from the "church" might see you and you would be talked about. Horrors, if you were picked up for DUI and your name showed up in the Times.

In the early seventies, I worked as an instructor at McGhee Tyson Airbase with the ANG Non-Commissioned Officers Academy. At the time, I was the only local on faculty. The main unit at McGhee Tyson was the 134th Air Refueling Group commanded by Colonel Robert Akin. The base was visited by many Blount Countians who were associate community members of The Officer's Club. In the course of a year, the who's who of Maryville, Alcoa, and Blount County would frequent that club. It was one of the few places in the county that a person could buy a drink unless they belonged to the local country club or the American Legion. There were several weak efforts to get liquor legalized in Blount County during this period. Unfortunately for me and my career at the Academy, I joined forces with one of the groups attempting to legalize liquor.

I could write pretty well then and the group I was associated with asked me to write some letters to the Times promoting a referendum. My mistake was pointing out the hypocrisy of the population. I spoke of the private clubs(among them the Officer's Club) where a person could get a drink or a bottle if they had the privilege of membership. All liquor sales at private clubs were illegal,at the time, before the law affecting private clubs was changed in the late seventies. The Officers Club was not an offical USAF club at that time. McGhee Tyson was a state facility and subject to state laws. One of my legal liquor advocacy letters to the Times hit a nerve.

Arriving at work one morning, my boss Colonel M... summoned me to his office. Usually a commanding figure, Colonel M... this day looked a little "shook." He told me that I had been summoned to Colonel Bob Akin's office at headquarters. Arriving at Akins office, I took a seat across from the good colonel. At no time during the one sided conversation did the colonel look directly at me.

He told me that one of the reasons McGhee Tyson Airbase and the 134th maintained its good place in the community was because of the Officers Club and its large membership of "associates" from the Blount County community. He said that my letter to the Times could cause embarassment to these associates who preferred their drinking activities at the club not be exposed. He ordered me to cease and desist my activities promoting legal liquor in Blount County. According to Akin, exposing the legal status of the Officer's Club to the public could jeopardize the jobs of the 300 civil service technicians who worked there. He also told me in passing that at one time, the clubs at McGhee Tyson Airbase represented the largest liquor operation in East Tennessee i.e. the good colonel admitted to me that he was one of the area's biggest bootleggers. After that conversation my fortunes at McGhee Tyson changed for the worse. I eventually left and later went on active duty in the Army.

Shortly after that I got to see another example the hypocrisy about booze in Blount County first hand. The sheriff at that time was a "good old boy" and a close friend of my family. He had a fishing camp on Little River in Townsend. Each year he and my uncle would have a barbeque at the camp. I was a "field" deputy and always got invited. There was always beer and other assorted booze. This particular year there was some nervousness because County Judge Asher Howard announced on short notice he was coming to the barbeque. Panic. What to do with the beer? Asher Howard was very religious and most likely would not approve of the booze. My uncle came up with a solution. There were several empty cans of Nehi soda scattered about. They were gathered up and rinsed out. The rule was that if you wanted a beer, you took an empty Nehi can into the tent where the beer was and poured your full can of Budweiser, Schlitz, or Falstaff into it.

When the judge arrived he saw nothing but the Sheriff and his deputies and assorted county officials sitting around drinking Nehis and chomping barbeque. Fortunately we had a full can of Nehi left when the judge asked for one.

I wonder how much the attitudes about booze have changed since I left home?

Note to readers: I have several blogs, click the "view my complete profile" button to the left to see them all. Also I have a site where I write serial novels,Thomsontalks and a site where I have a collection of southern newspaper links, Dixie Bugle The majority of my writing is done at The Partial Observer, an opinion website, where I am a columnist and publications editor.

Cunningham disappointed with Maryville Tennessee Newspaper

2007-11-28T04:50:00.000-08:00

Jerry Cunningham, Maryville attorney and Blount County Mayor is disappointed with the Daily Times, Maryville and Alcoa Tennessee's hometown newspaper. From Cunningham's perspective the paper has been unfair to his friend,Blount County Circuit Court Judge W. Dale Young, who is currently the subject of a judicial review by the Tennessee Court of the Judiciary.

Cunningham has gone so far in support of his friend that he recently spoke at a rally sponsored by the Republican party where he castigated the judge's critics among them the Daily Times newspaper by saying,

“It disappoints me,” he said. “Because it’s not The Daily Times I grew up with.
“I have not met anybody who is not upset or troubled by the unfairness of the reporting.”

... it's not the Daily Times I grew up with...

Its certainly not Jerry. The Daily Times I've been reading lately is far different from the one I grew up with which was a rag perpetuating the "Good Ole Boy" establishment of Blount County, Tennessee. When I was reading the Times in the sixties and seventies it had some quaint policies about news reporting. The most memorable was its policy on stories about women. The times under the leadership of its former publisher, Tutt Bradford, would not publish a story about a married woman under her own name i.e. if "Sue Jones" received an award as an outstanding educator the story had to be published as Mrs. Edgar "Sue" Jones wins education honors. I'm not even sure if they would publish the "Sue."

Once there was a story about a suicide of a woman who was the wife of a prominent Maryville businessman. It was reported as a gunshot suicide, but the Times(at that time)never dug into why the County Coroner and others were at the scene as part of a clean up crew after the woman's death. I know this because a reporter from a neighboring newspaper attempted to enter the home and was told "there's no story for you here" by the Coroner holding a mop in his hand.

The Times today is a paper that digs for news and is not afraid of hurting the feelings of the ruling establishment. The new Daily Times is bringing Maryville, Alcoa, and Blount County into the 21st Century. It's about time.

A bit of perspective of the recent rally where County Mayor Cunningham was the main cheerleader: Blount County has a population of 116,000. Only 125 people (mostly County officials and Republican Party stalwarts) showed up for the meeting.