There is Another Side

Just to reiterate the ultimate point of my last post...

"Y'all sent me on this terrible bachelorette party and all I got was a snakebite."

 



I rest my case...you want surnames?

We know one of these fellas...in fact, the Boy has spent the night at the family's house.

DISCLAIMER: as I know it will be of great interest to many of our readers, not only were no snakes harmed during the filming but they're probably saving many non-poisonous snakes from being killed in the drive way. They deal directly, and question, the normal reaction that any sane person would have to seeing a snake...which is to kill it without a second thought...and suggest that it's an irrational response.

Sorry I'm just gonna confess here...I will kill them if I see them. I guess I'm a horrible person but I have been chased, have looked into the beady abyss and seen what a snake bite does to a human leg. The only way I'll grab a snake is with a shotgun.

I love the rowdiness and the decay that can be found from one end of Dixie to the other. It's not only beautiful but it makes an important statement about the impermanence of material and the foolishness of putting any faith in it. There is another side though.

There is a grandeur to The South that I am often guilty of ignoring here. There is the beauty of the dogwoods and azaleas, the magnolias and loblollies...and the live oaks. The unassailable taste and quaint manners...the old money beauty of it.

Nowhere is this side more gorgeously realized than during the Master's Tournament at Augusta National in Georgia.

Martha is, at this very moment, balling as Justin Spieth, this year's winner, hugs his Momma.

 

It is a cathedral...glorifying the natural beauty of The South and it is a celebration of it's gentile mores. Five dollars will still get you a pimento cheese sandwich...yelling "YOU DA MAN" or "IN DA HOLE" will still you get you an escort off the grounds. Mind you're manners...this is Georgia not the U.S. Open. This morning, Nick Faldo...that's Sir Nick Faldo to you, said that, off the course, it's the greatest sporting event in the world. "On the course," it's the greatest "by a mile."

 



There's a Thursday afternoon every year in the Spring when I have to fight back the tears. It's not just the overwhelming Southern Beauty of the place, though that does crush, but the memories I have with my Daddy and now with my son...being crouched around the TV (this hasn't changed despite the size of the TV and crispness of the picture) anxiously watching a putt hug the meticulous contours of a green, past the pink azaleas...through the shadow of a dogwood in bloom...watching, covering our faces, peaking....

EDIT...The Boy climbed up in my lap this morning while waiting for his momma to finish getting dressed. He wanted to see the Snakegrabber videos...he's pretty pumped about Mr. Brent...then he wanted see the video of Augusta. He said something about playin there....I would walk buck naked from here to Augusta if it meant getting to play just one hole. I asked him so..."you gonna play there one day."
He turned his head and looked at me, with the most serious expression he could muster..."I am going to win a green jacket." At this point I have no reason to doubt him.

If The River Was Whiskey

Grand Gulf isn't just a military park. They have lots of interesting local artifacts there.

Do we need any further proof that there was serious money in bootleggin'?

Prohibition didn't end in Mississippi until the 60's. That don't mean there weren't a thriving, and well regulated, brown liquor market in the state. Far from it... Black Market Tax . In fact, it was a raid on a Junior League Ball, attended by the Governor, that finally forced the state's hand. There was no rush to legalize akahol. The bootleggers were getting rich, the state and state officials were getting their cut, and the Baptists were happy (the last thing they wanted was to have to buy theirs in a public establishment...hahaha. Do you know why you always take more than one Baptist fishing at a time...because if you take just one he'll drink all your booze. :oohyeahthat'sagoodone:).

A family friend, who died recently, used to get paid 50 bucks to run a trunkload of whiskey from Vicksburg to Jackson when he was a teenager in the 50's. You can still get moonshine here without much trouble.

I think it's also important to mention that we have a short but significant history with submarines. The Confederate submarine H.L. Hunley was the first submarine to ever sink a ship. It took down the USS Housatonic....known up until that point for seizing a British blockade runner that was trying to deliver two ship engines for Confederate Inronclads. It was a serious blow. Take note Scots...it was one of your ships the bastards stole. Sadly, neither the crew or the submarine survived the exchange but they sank that b**CH!

While we're briefly on the subject, today in 1865, William Catledge of the 5th Florida Infantry, CSA, was paroled at Appomattox (one of 53 men that were left of the 5th). He was my Grandmother's maternal Grandfather. He wasn't the only Catledge that fought and her paternal side was also well represented but, it's William's name that appears, after about 6 pages of Campbells, among the list of those that were present at what amounted to the bitter, bitter end.

 You would be forgiven for thinking that this was a portable torture device carried by the U.S. army used to extract intelligence from the locals but...NO! This torture device was willingly worn by our Belles. That's what was under the hood of those old gorgeous hooped dresses.

Residents of the area remain on guard from attacks to this day. There's a nuclear power plant just a few miles from the park. She is ready for shenanigans...in fact, she kinda looks like she wakes up every morning hoping somebody will try her.

There's Yankees to worry about, terror attacks...it's like the Devil's petting zoo around there...

...it is going to Flood!

Then there's us....a danger that, while it may be unintentional, can never be dismissed.



We are them. Those of us who weren't kidnapped from West Africa are anglo-celts who were too poor and rowdy to live in Scotland, Ireland and t'North of England...who have spent the last 200 years procreating in swamps. We have moonshine, guns, submarines and a nuclear power plant! What could possibly go wrong. HA!

Not Too Pretty to Burn

On Good Friday, me and The Boy took a trip to Grand Gulf State Park. Grad Gulf is right on the river...maybe 20 miles south of Vicksburg. When I say on the river...I mean nervously close to the River. The water on Friday was up to the little two lane road opposite the park.

It won't surprise you to hear that my arch enemy took his most gruesome form on this lane a few years ago. I was in the car when Satan's House Pet crossed my path...the blackest, fattest, most ghoulish, ugggh...and it still gives me shivers.

There's not really a town here anymore. The first one was burned down by David Farrugut...Furragut, whatever, David Yankee, as part of the U.S. invasion of Mississippi during Lincoln's war.

It was burned in 1862...cause that's what they did. Then in May of 1863, they came back to seize the charred remains in order to use the gulf as a supply point for the invading army. Unfortunately for him and his...Georgia born, Gen John S. Bowen

had prepared the hills around what was left of the town. There Hoskins' Light Artillery, from Brookhaven, MS were splint between two small "forts."  Hoskins' gunners with 13 light pieces fought off seven US gunships, firing some 2,500 rounds into the Confederate positions...they even disabled one of the ships.

Sadly, it was barely a setback for grant. They just moved down river and landed unopposed and marched on Port Gibson ("Too Beautiful To Burn" - U.S. Grant. How cute.) where Bowen, severely outnumbered, was forced to retreat after a day's fighting.  Grand Gulf was evacuated.

I have to tell you...reading Bowen's CV is an exercise in excruciation for an unreconstructed Southron. He had predicted where the Yankees would attack and had repeatedly requested reinforcements from Pemberton in Vicksburg...DENIED. They weren't run out of Port Gibson...they were in an untenable position because of sheer numbers and had to withdraw. At the Battle of Corinth, MS...he had overrun a significant US position. Instead of exploiting the advantage...his commander Van &*&^&ing Dorn called a halt. At Champions Hill...Bowen led an attack that was on the verge of breaking the Yankee center but, AGAIN, he was not supported!

Taken prisoner after the fall of Vicksburg, Bowen died of dysentery after being paroled...32 years old. Did I mention that this Jedi was a Georgian?  Damn right I did...you want me to tell you again? :)

While we're here...let's hear from Robbie Robertson. A Canadian who has gifted The South with genuine treasure. About the song...he said he wanted to express the dignified sadness he often encountered in Southerners. He had Levon there for guidance I'm sure but, it's Robertson's song and it is cherished.*



Up on the hill behind the "forts" is an old cemetery.

It's my favorite place on the park.

As an aside for C...we saw the most outrageously yellow little bird I've ever seen in my life there.

Not far from Grand Gulf...just off the Natchez Trace is the site of Rocky Springs. At one time there were 1,500 souls there...between the war and disease the town was abandoned by 1930. There is a church there...built in the 1830's. That's a rare specimen in these parts. It has a fabulous old cemetery. There are a couple of Confederate Veterans buried there but they very recent additions compared to the others. It's in the same style but possessed of a more grand decay. I was gonna take the Boy by there on the way home but he was passed out by then.

There's an old Dog Trot or Cracker House on the property. We have fantasies of building one of these on a sandy piece of property, shaded by Live Oaks, somewhere along the gulf coast one day.

This picture has global significance. Those are azaleas....they are swarming with Bumble Bees. I've read that bumble bees are disappearing around the world. Well, it turns out, they are disappearing to Grand Gulf, MS. There must have been 100 of these fat stingers buzzing around the various buildings. The Boy finally couldn't take it anymore despite my insistence that they weren't going to sting him. I think he was just sleepy.

Halfway there he had generously offered to let me listen to my "disc." Big Star Third.

"Does he sing like this for every song?"
"Yep."
"This the worst singing ever."
By the time we got to Jesus Christ he had settled in to it. Ha.




See Charity Chic  for an interesting post on that other Canadian. :)

More on Grand Gulf to come....

Low Living, Sight Walking.

I've been out and about.

In front of a house on Plank Rd in Baton Rouge. It ends with an incomplete word...a syllable.

Broadmoor Theatre on Airline Highway...Baton Rouge.



A constant and faithful companion.

Pentecostal Church in Biloxi.

 

Raleigh MS...Rogers's Grocery.

 

 

Somewhere around Prentiss.

Between Rocky Mount Church and Winona.



Little Sammy Davis of Winona on Harmonica...not in the Delta but that don't sound much like the Delta anyway.

Meet Me In The City

Junior

There are two towering figures in Mississippi Hill Country Blues. One is the irreplaceable R.L. Burnside...the other is the mighty Junior Kimbrough. Legends. As great as any of the players who left for Chicago or Detriot...greater in my estimation. Like all great players...Howlin' Wolf - Smokestack Lighting, Muddy Waters - Mannish Boy, etc...they both had a signature song...a song that was impossible, no matter how many times it was covered, to separate from its source. For Burnside it's Goin' Down South...for Kimbrough it's Meet Me In The City.



I wouldn't be surprised if one of you pops and says you've done a cover of it.

I love the North Mississippi Allstars. Some of their albums come off as too theoretical...to concerned with what they're trying to do but they've also been fantastic live. Luther and Cody are, of course, the sons of Jim Dickinson. They come by all this very honestly...this is their neighborhood.

Jon O'Spencer is gonna make "every-TING" so fine...best guitar take not played by Junior himself.



Gomez capture something different.



The Black Keys obviously have an affinity for the Hill Country...they got their start on Fat Possum so it's with some credibility and obvious tenderness that they take it on.



It's an untouchable song that deserves a place among the greatest expressions of the 20th century.

The Great Storm of 1987

This weekend, with evidently nothing better to do, The Boy sat down to watch The Weather Channel feature...10 Worst Hurricanes Ever! A certain curiosity with these things is to be expected around here.

A very pregnant Martha next to a downed live oak after tornadoes in 08.

 

Hurricanes are a regular feature of this part of the country and when they come they dominate the news...and they are featured events in people's lives and a recurring topic of conversation. Of course, a storm has to be a real monster to reach Jackson as a hurricane. Katrina managed it at Category 2.

The view from our driveway in Spring of 08.

 



The most direct threat for us is tornadoes. There were two (edit:make that five) yesterday down around Hattiesburg. So interest in severe weather is natural. He's a little obsessed though. This is Martha's doing but we shame her here...at least not at Christmas time.

Anyway, after watching the show and after 800 more questions about Katrina, he has begun to fixate on the Great Storm of 1987...a Hurricane (like?) storm in England has struck him as very curious and he's telling everybody about it and then asking questions. Like I said :coughMarthacough: he's got some weather issues.

I told him I knew where we could get some answers....Q.



No that didn't help (well it helped me..to force coffee through my nasal cavity...my favorite of the weather forcasts). I told him I'd ask y'all about. Anything you can convey about your own experience with the Storm will be passed on an much appreciated.

And Merry Christmas y'all.


Ice Cream taste better when you got no 'lectricity...and when you're pregnant.

Muck Raking.

From local Memphis TV in 1979 we have Straight Talk With Marge Thrasher...and she is having none of this nonsense. In fact, she's in a right tizzy about it. The Regal couple just seems confused.



Tav handles himself like the consummate Southern Gentleman that he is.

More important for our purposes here...are the "invisible performers" he's talking about. He's almost certainly talking about people like Charlie Feathers and his mentor Junior Kimbrough, Othar Turner, Jim Dickinson, Jessie Mae Hemphill and even our very own Alex Chilton there...and I have no doubt that R.L. Burnside was on his mind.*

 ** Snake Drive written by R.L. Burnside

It should be pointed out that Panther Burns is covering R.L. Burnside more than a decade before Bad Luck City and almost 15 years before Fat Possum Records.

Behind the Magnolia Curtain was released in 1981...the same year, you will of course remember, that The Fall were touring the US behind Grotesque and Slates...while also running through songs that would appear on Hex. You will also know that one of the greatest moments in the history of sound occurs on this tour...Winter..."that's an alcohol free lager...well, anyway I digress."



It was recorded at a show in Memphis, Tennessee...where Mark E Smith met our man Tav. Both were on Rough Trade and The Fall Online is convinced that Mark E Smith was introduced to the song Bourgeois Blues through the Panther Burns cover on Behind the Magnolia Curtain. If he owned that record...he heard Snake Drive.

This proves, beyond all reasonable doubt, that Mark E Smith was indeed completely obsessed with Hill Country Blues.

Here's where I drop the mic...wipe my hands of this nonsense and leave the room a champion.

ALL I DO IS WIN WIN WIN NO MATTER WHAT...

*If you're a little confused by the geography...Memphis is in the extreme southwest corner of Tennessee bordered by Arkansas to the west and Mississippi to the south. The reason that everybody in Mississippi ends up in Memphis instead of Jackson is that The Delta and the Hill Country are within Memphis's sphere of influence. When they go to town...they don't go to Jackson they go to Memphis.

 

Special Thanks to Gronmark for the Hasil Adkins reference...which reminded me of Panther Burns...which led to me uncovering this fascinating rocknroll artifact.

 

** If Mississippi was a sound it would be this song...here's Jim Dickinsons boys, and Burnsides and Kimbroughs...burning Bonaroo down with it. Bonus Track.

 

 

Why'on't y'all deal with it!


Highway 49 Revisited

The intersection of Highways 49 and 61, in Clarksdale, is where Robert Johnson is supposed to have sold his soul to Scratch.* Seems a little excessive really. He was good but them roads are littered with blue, and red, signs honoring people that were good...and who didn't get poisoned with lighter fluid or whatever.

Indianola

The obvious choice for Indianola is B.B. King...born and reared there, playing on Church St. He's not the only King born in Indianola though...



Actually BB is the only King from Indianola...Albert was a Nelson. So, from Indianola Mississippi seeds....one of my favorite snippets of recorded sound...ever.



Six miles down the road in Inverness...you know what happens next.

R.C. Cola...Inverness

 

 

Another 10 miles and you're in Isola.

 



Isola

 



We got red signs too...Isola is the hometown of Hank Cochran. He played under his own name eventually but what he really did was write songs...songs that have been recorded by everybody from Elvis Costello to Elvis Presley....Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard and...this one.



This is exactly the kinda pop song that made my Grandmother despise Patsy Cline...sell out. It's a pretty good way to sell out though.

Then you come to Belzoni...

The opposite side of town from where he was actually born?

 



Pinetop played the piano instead of the guitar...cause a girl in Arkansas cut his arm up.



Him and Robert Nighthawk.

BB King has a special place with me. He was a constant around our house because my Daddy loves him...and Albert...who don't like Little Milton? But that urban soul blues is not favorite...Nighthawk is closer to the mark. Elmore James, born in Holmes county**, but a regular on the streets of Belzoni...is as good a turn at country-Delta type Blues as they'll ever be.



BALLS!

After that you pass by Louise and Midnight...eventually coming to Yazoo City (used to be Manchester)...the end of The Delta. There's a few musicians but, we gon' hear from Jerry Clower. Y'all may not know him...but, he is a true Southern treasure and one of the funniest men to ever live.



"Sir what's wrong with you...NOT A THING IN THE WORLD."

Vicksburg and the grim Louisiana Delta today.

*There is, of course, controversy about this...some of the old players put the crossroad north of Clarksdale in Rosedale...I think.

**Holmes county could mean Lexington, Pickens...godforsaken Tchula...who knows.

Highway 49

I am packing now...and I'll be on Highway 49 in an hour headed to Indianola....right through Belzoni.

Then down 61 back from Greenville.



There's probably a song for every town I'll pass through...there's always plenty to report in The Delta.

"Me and BB King used to race tractors in Indianola...he was drivin' a John Deer. I was drivin' a Farmall."

Inverness...home of Little Milton...Little Milton Campbell.

Darkhorse

Dave's Darkhorse

 



That's me and The Sister. Most people find this hard to believe...but, I'm the older sibling.* Those of you who are long time readers of the various blogs know that I have never been anything but a loving brother. In return, I have regularly been called names, including "demon"...and been told to "suck it" and "can it." Do any of y'all remember the "Happy Birthday Moron" cake?  It's tough being an older brother to such a prickly woman but Love is thankless.

It's her birthday today. It was not her birthday Monday when she was impatiently moaning about the Ole Miss post...begging attention for her Dawgs and the town of Starkville.  If she had bothered to look at a calendar she might have hesitated before showing her ***! My sister is a graduate of Mississippi State University and she is right to demand some love for her school's football team.

MSU had a big win over Texas A&M this weekend. As a reward they get to play the #2 team in the country Auburn on Saturday. That's alright...State is ranked #3. Heady times in the Golden Triangle. It's reminiscent of the days when she was in the student section...when Jackie Wayne Sherrill roamed the sidelines..

When she snuck me and Martha into the student section so we could get the "Whiskey Shower"...:cough:forafaketouchdown:cough:. When she nearly got us kicked out of our apartment ringing a cowbell!...and when MSU made it to Atlanta.

When, in a thick smoke, we and local potheads, Hogleg (it means what?) were regulars at Dave's Darkhorse.

Good Times...Good Times.

Happy Birthday...Little Fred.

The one thing on her iphone I think we can all agree on...to some extent.


*Latest anecdote..."Now which one of you is older?" Chloe's Mom. 8/6/14, Mississippi Sports Hall of Fame, BLB's Birthday Party.

Joy and Pandemonium in Mississippi

Added...gameday commercial that ran last week.




It started in the morning...in The Grove with Gameday and special guest picker Katy Perry. Perry was a head scratcher. She has no connection to Mississippi or Ole Miss...except, as it turns out her manager and mentor are Ole Miss grads. She actually did a great job. Somebody coached her well. If the videos from last night in Oxford are any indication she may be a Rebel for life now.

The corndogs are an almost Dadaist joke about LSU.



The game...one of the best I've ever seen.



The aftermath. It's hilarious watching the girls in their dresses coming over the rails.

One more...and then I'll stop. This is a piece that was done for the show by Wright Thompson. A pretty sharp sports writer from Clarkesdale.
It's a touching piece about his Daddy and the way that these games act as a bonding agent for families and our culture in general.

Cracker!

Fireworks Stand. Columbia, Mississippi.

 

 

 

Men's Bathroom Door, Hal and Mals. Jackson, MS. 

 

 My office wall.

I don't really need to say anything here do I?

Bop Bop Bopda Ba Debris Fries

Debris Fries from the Fillin' Station in Biloxi.

 

Last week we ran down to The Coast for a few days vacation. It was a real rocknroll party.

 

 





You see what looks like a pair of glasses layin' next to the Boy as he sleeps...they're actually night vision spy goggles. He got 'em for his birthday just before we left....but, why he would need to see anything after dark I don't know. Him and his Momma go to bed around 6 in the evenin'...just after Wheel of Fortune.

Fortunately, for The Boy, you can find love in the light of the day...at The Shed.  This girl, who is not his girlfriend OK, is a recording artist....between her own songs she hosted an open mic. It was fun...some of 'em kids. So, not too raucous for these two.

I'm sorry. What was that? Did we hear Give Me One Reason to Stay Here by Tracy Chapman?

Stop being a smartass.

We did manage to make it down to the water every day. These "beaches" along the Coast are man made...sand dumped over what would be marshy shore. They're not the powdered sugar "World Most Beautiful Beaches" along the coast in Alabama and the Panhandle of Florida. Give it another 10,000 years and maybe the pulverized quartz, that came down from the Appalacians, after the last ice age, which make those beaches so impossibly white, will work it's way to Ocean Springs. I don't know if that will have any effect on the murky water though. You get glowing turquoise in Destin...here you get Lipton.

There is Ship Island...a sliver of a barrier island about 11 miles south of Gulfport. There's a group of these islands that run parallel to the coast but every hurricane takes a big chunk out of them.

 

I was looking for pictures and this one popped up from here. *

 



Very pleasant out there...clear water and sand. You can walk probably a quarter of mile when the tides right.

Fort Massawhatever is out there. It started life as a Confederate post but, the island was impossible to keep supplied and the Yankees took it over and built this in 1867. Nothing much happened out there unless you were one of these unfortunate few...

It's about an hour by ferry out there. It's a pleasant enough trip...dolphins usually come around.

It was a good time.  Look forward to doing it again.


*Mail readers...ha. You'll never get that off your computer.