"We Dug Coal Together"

I can readily admit that I am no television aficionado. My schedule essentially eliminates any down time and what little I do have, I spend antagonizing my kids or reading football stats. Folks will ask me if I have seen the latest Netflix series or whether I caught a premiere on ABC and my response is always the same:

"I was probably watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse."

This holds true even before I had children. I binge-watched "Friends" and "Seinfeld" long after they ended. I was too cheap to pay for HBO in college so "The Sopranos" was another week-long watch-fest three years after it was over. Same for "The Wire." "Breaking Bad" and "Homeland" still have not made the cut. Being a late-30's Caucasian male that has not seen either of these shows lands me in the smallest minority in the known universe.

Trust me, if there was a Jeopardy category called "TV Shows After 2002," I would score as well with "Transgender French Authors from the 1500's." In fact, there are only five categories in which I would do worse:

1) "Greatest Moments in Auburn Football History"
2) "Florida Georgia Line Lyrics"
3) "The Benefits of Decaf Coffee"
4) "Nextel Two-Way Phones Were the Best"
5) "Muscadine Wine Vintages"

However, there are a handful of shows that I did/do follow religiously. I do not miss any episode of "Blackish" or "The Walking Dead." I watched "Saturday Night Live" every week from 1992-1998. "Family Ties" and "Cheers" were staples in our house growing up. You want to know about Clegane Bowl or "Ballers?" "Band of Brothers" or "The Pacific?" I am your guy.

There is one show that hit home more than all others.

It was set in the modern-day South in an area that closely resembles north Georgia. It was not embellished and the accents were not Varsity Blues-ish "I don't waaaant youuur liiiife" trash. The cast and the storyline were just superb and every episode was exciting, funny, serious and thought-provoking at the same time. The last episode was a perfect wrap-up to the series and I contend that the final scene is the greatest in television history, due to how it tied up every single loose end and boiled the series down to one single moment that told the tale of the two main characters.

I am talking about "Justified."

If you watched the show, you know what I mean. If you did not, here goes.

 Raylan Givens, played by Timothy Olyphant, was a deputy U.S. marshal who worked in Miami, but was forced to return to his home state of Kentucky due to some disciplinary problems. Raylan was a throw-back type of officer, wearing a cowboy hat and having a quick draw with his pistol. He always had a sharp wit, remained cool under pressure and tested the limits of his boss's patience. Raylan always got the job done, though.

Upon his return, he found himself working almost exclusively in his hometown of Harlan, which was plagued by joblessness, crime, drug use and corruption. The coal mines were the main source of employment for the legitimate citizens. One of his boyhood friends was Boyd Crowder, played by Walton Goggins, had returned to Harlan after serving in the Persian Gulf War and a stint in prison. The Crowder family were a well-known crime family that operated in the mountains surrounding Harlan. They dabbled in all forms of vice, were completely ruthless and used fear, intimidation and violence to impose their will. Boyd was no exception and could make the viewer laugh and/or cringe with his antics. Quite frankly, he reminded me of some people I knew at the store back in Cassville.

The show revolved around the love-hate relationship between Raylan and Boyd, as the former chased the latter all over Harlan and the mountains of Kentucky, wreaking havoc all along the way. Drug dealing, gun-running, murder, beatings, extortion, fixing elections, money laundering....you name it and Boyd Crowder did it. Despite their obvious animus, they always seem to have a begrudging respect and kinship to go along with it. After six seasons, Raylan finally ended Boyd's life of crime after a massive chase/shootout that resulted in Boyd being convicted and sentenced to many years in prison. Raylan requested and was granted a transfer back to Florida after the case.

The final scene shows Raylan visiting Boyd in prison, apparently several years after the fact. He was there to break bad news to Boyd about his missing wife. Boyd pointed out that Raylan could have sent word through his lawyer or the warden, but opted to drive all the way from Miami to Kentucky. Raylan hemmed and hawed as to his reason, but after Boyd pressed the issue, they had the following exchange as the show ended:

Raylan: "Well, if allow myself to be sentimental, despite all that has occurred, there is one thing I wander back to....."

Boyd: (a short pause and eyes get misty) "We dug coal together."

Raylan: "That's right." (the two stare at one another as the scene ends.)

Why does that scene resonate with me? It was the way the two acknowledged their differences, but still had that connection that bonded them. They toiled in the Harlan coal mines as young men and worked the same shift. Breathed in the same black dust. Worked the same terrible hours and endured the same rotten conditions. Realized that mining life was not for them and went their separate ways. Those two ways could not have been more divergent, but their fates were interwined nonetheless. The two former miners came together in the end.....through all the death, destruction, mayhem and drama.

It harkened back to my days behind the register and pumping gas in Cassville. We had some really interesting characters darken our doors, as many of you know. Some of these folks were mischievous and just wild, some were downright mean and malicious. We had people that stayed high or drunk 18 hours a day. Meth dealers and gang members. Scammers and thieves. Barroom brawlers. Convicted felons. Prostitutes and deadbeat dads. Some of these people have died untimely deaths, gone to prison or completely disappeared. They have provided the basis for many of the stories that I tell now. Combine them with the white collar and blue collar citizens and you have the modern-day small town South depicted in "Justified."

I am not defending their illegal/immoral actions by any means, but these people were part of Cassville just as much as we were. They were loyal customers to us and grew up on the same quiet little roads that I did. Take a turn down Cedar Creek Road and you will see men working under hoods of cars in front of their double-wide and a pit bull running in circles around them. Meander up Cass-White or Firetower Road and you may pass a grown man riding a bike with a twelve-pack of Natural Light hanging from the handle. You could somebody getting locked up. A satellite dish in a pigpen (that is no lie). Somebody clearly conducting nefarious activity on the payphone at 3:00 a.m.

Like all the crazy characters in "Justified," Boyd Crowder especially, they were synonymous with Cassville. If anyone from the outside criticized them, I would be the first to defend them. They are my people, good or bad. My family owes them all a debt of gratitude for their loyalty and their ability to make us laugh, cry and learn from them.

When Boyd said "we dug coal together," he was speaking to all of us. I heard it loud and clear.

Friday Night Lights: Ain't Nothin Finer in the Land

Football season is upon us, y'all. Hallelujah!

I turned on Peachtree TV to whet my insatiable appetite last night, watching the Calhoun Yellow Jackets absolutely dismantle the Ridgeland Panthers in the first game of the annual Corky Kell Classic, 38-8. Calhoun stalled out on its first three drives of the game and it appeared a grudge match was in the making, but a halfback pass for a touchdown on their fourth drive started a scoring barrage that left Ridgeland devastated. The Jackets have to be encouraged with a victory over a perennial playoff team, especially with a new head coach and replacing a boatload of starters. 

The following game was another blowout, where the Marietta Blue Devils avenged an opening day loss from the 2018 season, handing the Rome Wolves a 48-14 whipping that had the Barron Stadium crowd shaking their heads. It was Rome's first regular season loss since 2016, but it was doozy. The Wolves were carved up on both sides of the ball and beaten physically, a rare occurrence in the John Reid era. Marietta was supposed to be good, but I do not think anyone predicted a 34-point shellacking of the home team. While Rome picks up the pieces, the state of Georgia was put on notice. Can Marietta finally put it all together and win a state title? It sure appears that way. 

High school football in Georgia is a tradition that will never die. From Rabun Gap to Bainbridge, Folkston to Trenton and all points between, the populace awaits fall Friday nights like the $450 Mega Million drawings that give birth to office pools and morons spending their last dime in hopes of beating the 1:3,678,986 odds (or something like that). The hallways, barber shops, streets and radio waves are abuzz with determination, fear, hyperbole, coachspeak, poormouthing, braggadocio and the ultimate hope that this is finally "our year."

Message boards light up in late July with tales of the fastest running back anyone has ever seen, one-handed grabs over seven defenders, quarterbacks who throw 80-yard post routes from their knees and coaches who make players run 27 miles before every practice and eat a handful of thumbtacks before every game. Fall practice dispels these wild myths with the quickness, as reporters and pundits get the real scoop that we all have come to realize.....these are 15-18 year-old kids who play their hearts out, but make mistakes. Some of them are really fast. Some of them are really big. A small handful will play major college football and an even smaller group will see the gridiron on Sundays. 

I was not blessed with much ability or size when I was in high school. My physical peak happened when I was 19 years old and I exacted punishment on the intramural basketball courts in Athens for 4.5 years. People still tremble at the thought of my patented jump hook and my penchant for blocking out with a vengeance. I snarled when I grabbed rebounds. I started fights. I talked junk and walked with an arrogance that I never knew existed. I loved every second of it. Team sports are the bedrock for a successful adult life, I wholeheartedly believe that. Part of me wishes I peaked earlier, but I would not change those years for anything. 

However, despite my arrogance and physical peak, the chances of me making it professionally in any sport were akin to a snowball falling into a pit of lava. All it took was one look at Richard Seymour, Champ Bailey, Jarvis Hayes or Ben Watson and I knew that my future as a desk jockey, attorney, writer or business owner was secured.  In fact, only five things in this world are less possible than me playing a down of football in the NFL or one minute in the NBA:

1) A gluten-free food aisle at Cass Grocery

2) Any of the guys on the benches asking "hey man, y'all got coconut milk creamer?"

3) Testifying against any of the Clintons

4) Shaquille O'Neal actually fitting in a Buick (have you seen him up close? No freaking way)

5) Georgia fans wanting a home-and-home with Shorter 

I am lucky in that I get to see much of this high school football craziness firsthand as a color commentator for Bartow Sports Zone. Mothers with milk jugs full of rocks, students painted pink for Breast Cancer Awareness, old heroes walking the aisles talking about the days of eight-hour practices, bands warming up with the ESPN theme, nervous coaches pacing and trying to sneak a dip of snuff....all the while, the players stretch out to sounds of mumble rap, pop country and Imagine Dragons blaring on the speakers. Teams have Jumbotrons, play clocks and Ipads now. Guys in the 1990's were lucky to have a dry-erase board to draw plays and one Walkman to share in the locker room. Shoot, guys in the 1980's probably still smoked cigarettes on the sidelines. 

One part I truly enjoy is walking up the bleachers to the press box. I shake hands with old friends, high-five and hug, point and wave, then turn around and survey the field. As I digest my usual pre-game Waffle House extravaganza, I ingest the sights and sounds. I feel glad to have another night under the lights and pray for many more. The buses for the opposing team rolls in and the foreigners walk toward the locker room under the stony gaze of the home fans. The commentary begins:

"Oh dang, 76 is huge. I hope Bobby ain't blockin' him."

"That quarterback has 765 offers and bench presses a Prius. He would start for Bama right now."

"Their band better not take up more than 10 minutes at the half, Mikayla has a solo." 

Occasionally, an old man will grab my arm and say "we got a shot this year?" I smile and give the same response every time:

"Yes sir. Everybody has a shot tonight." 

Cass Grocery's Wifi Password was "NattyLight1810"

Ladies and gentlemen, it has been over six years since I blogged here. I do apologize. For those of you who have read, purchased, reviewed, loaned out or spread the word about my book, I am forever grateful. I have sold thousands of copies and had folks from as far away as California contact me about how much they enjoyed it. When I wrote "Reflections," I had no aspirations that it would sell very well. The world is so tied to the smartphone and Instagramming their lunch choices, I figured only my friends and family would be interested.

I was wrong. (even my kids, Elizabeth and Anderson, point to the cover and say "Daddy." They cannot read yet. Worry not, they are only four and two years old....not Auburn fans.)

Speaking of Instagram, I read an article this week that really hit home. The author had gone on a Caribbean cruise with a group of friends, all thirtysomethings, fully equipped with smartphones and detailed itineraries. As the trip unfolded and the group took part in excursions included in the trip,  the author noticed an alarming trend.

Rather than enjoy the natural beauty of the islands and company of the people standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, these people were more concerned with getting the perfect picture to share on Instagram. In fact, members of the group made it a point to find spots to take multiple pictures of themselves, doing thirty-plus takes and poses to ensure the best picture to upload. Some of them even coordinated outfits for the occasion to be sure they looked a certain way for their followers. The shallowness of this makes my skin crawl. In fact, there are only five things that make my skin crawl more:

1) Strawberry Lemonade Natty Light (No. Just no.)
2) Trying to finish a drop set on the bench press and Florida Georgia Line comes on at the gym
3) "Touchdown, Auburn."
4) Walking through a spider web in the dark
5) Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Never mind the gorgeous waterfall or one of the Caribbean's amazing sunsets. Never mind a genuine smile or a spontaneous moment of happiness. How can you soak in a breathtaking mountain view looking through a screen and clicking? You cannot. No, let's be sure to stage it, kick out a fake smile 37 times and validate ourselves through "likes" of people who are not even present on the trip. My personal feeling is that this oversharing is a mechanism for covering up a deeper sense of sadness and an outright cry for help, or simply bragging to those who could not be there. (Your high school classmate working third shift does not care that you are in Tahiti. I promise you.)

I cannot imagine trying to convince the guys on the benches of Cass Grocery to pose for anything. They would not understand why we are glued to a screen. Someone once suggested that we should get the electronic gas pumps that allow you to swipe credit cards and there was a resounding "nay" from the entire crowd.

"That's how it starts. Next thing you know, David will have girly magazines and sell white wine."

"Them things never work. I ain't giving out my zip code anyway, that's how the government gets you."

"I heard Iraq gets 2% of all profits on them credit cards. Hell no."

I will use Billy Fortenberry as my example, as he would be the least likely of all to agree. Hell, Billy got annoyed if somebody shook his hand with both hands. I can hear his gravely voice now: "You see that? Can't trust nobody who does that. Politicians and crooked preachers." The request would go something like this:

"Billy, go stand in front of the gas pumps and smile." (holds up phone)

"Get that damn phone out of my face."

"Aw, c'mon. Just a couple of pictures. One of you looking toward Adairsville and the other of you propped up on the gas pumps."

"How about a prop you up an ass whuppin?"

"It will only take a second and I will airbrush some of the wrinkles off your face. It will get at least 87 likes."

Billy would spit Taylor's Pride on my foot and the other guys would instruct me to "get back to the beer cooler before you get hurt."

Those guys lived simply. They did not live for "likes" nor did they care if you agreed with them or not. I miss those old conversations about carburetors, sprinkler pipe, rain gauges and complaining about traffic. There were no smartphones and I took no pictures, but I soaked in every bit of knowledge I could from them. I could not share a live video of them, but I remember every detail of their demeanor, what they wore, what they believed and their ideals.

The author of the article remarked that the best day of his trip was when everyone agreed to put the phones down. Indelible memories were made on a boat ride, where they listened to music and get this....actually talking to each other. They made no pictures, but they took away so much more.

Let's be honest though, those guys on the benches should be glad camera phones did not exist. They would probably all be fired, divorced and everyone would know that bass they caught in Pine Log was not really a 12-pounder.

One Full Year in NYC: Still a Southern Boy

Well, my first full year as a New Yorker is coming to a close. I cannot believe how quickly time has gone by. I can say that this year has been a good one and I have learned an awful lot about myself. Making such a drastic change in your life will do that to a person. There is nothing wrong with a status quo.....but I have never been a status quo type of guy, especially since college. I march to the beat of my own drum and for that, I do not apologize. It has given me experiences that I would not have had I decided to stay put. There have been sacrifices on my part, for certain. Some of those have been less than fun and harder to accept than I anticipated. I guess that is considered "personal growth" by the psychology types. Whatever, I rub dirt on it and move on.

People back home often ask me about New York. How it has changed me. Am I still that same kid who used to pump gas at 1810 Cassville Road with a glass bottle Coke in hand? Am I now a card carrying liberal Democrat? Do I say "you guys" instead of  y'all? Do I like hockey now? I think anyone who knew me before and after the move can tell you that I have changed very little in terms of my mindset and how I carry myself. Actually, I am more fiercely proud of my Southern roots than ever. New Yorkers are OK with that, where most people would believe they are not. They cannot imagine growing up in a town with one blinking red light, one store and no mass transit....but they do not hate it or look down on it.

So, what can I say learned this year? Plenty. You never know what you will see when you walk around this town. Every day is like an open book with no writing. For example:

- Although the sidewalks on the Upper West Side are 15 feet wide in some places, 3 Europeans with backpacks can make them completely impassable, especially when they take one of their 27 cigarette breaks. I guess German sidewalks are just one giant logjam, all day long. Get movin' Hans, my cannoli is not going to eat itself.

- There is a store dedicated to the "Big Lebowski" in the Village, selling only merchandise related to the movie and its characters. As the band Warrant once wisely said, "Heaven isn't too far awayyyyyyy."

- Jerry Stiller lives in my neighborhood. Every time I see him, I want him to scream "Serenity Now!"

- If you "Crip Walk" in public once, it spreads like a virus. Everybody wants you to do it, all the time. Except for the Bloods. They are not cool with it, even if you are a white dude.

- The lack of high school football here is astounding. I STILL have not seen a stadium, heard a faint "Lion Sleeps Tonight" in the distance by a marching band on a Friday night, or seen a busload of kids going across the city with a sign that says "Beat P.S. 236."

**best high school football band moment: Woodland vs. Westlake. My brother was a freshman and traveled down to Atlanta with the team. Woodland's band managed a weak pre-game "Hang On Sloopy" before Westlake's band (200 strong, at least) trotted out, drum majors backflipping, majorettes twerking, blaring "Here I Go" by Mystikal. It was one of the most impressive displays by a band ever. Their entire fanbase exploded into dance. There was a collective "Oh God" from the Woodland faithful and I think it was 31-0 at the half. Now THAT is how its done.

- Going to New Jersey (less than one mile away, ten minutes by train) is like going to California for New Yorkers. Not that Bartow County people can make fun, when we have to go to Atlanta, it might as well be Siberia. Going to Rome is like going to Japan, it's so far west, it becomes east.

- I have yet to endure a single thunderstorm here that rivals the weakest storm back home. I kinda miss tornado watches, to be honest. Things also missed: the smell of a chicken house, midnight CSX trains, a yard, barbeque that does not taste like cardboard, the word "rurnt" and the question "Dijall (did y'all) see who won the race?"

- I see people fishing in the East River, which I think is the 2nd or 3rd most heavily traveled waterway in the United States. (the same river Kramer swam in Seinfeld)  I've heard that it's clean enough to eat the fish you catch, as you stare at the smokestacks from the factories in Queens right on the water. No thanks. That would be like eating food from a trashbag in the Emerson landfill because somebody said, "it's only been there 2 days."

- New Yorkers do not understand the following phrases/words:

"Hayul far!" (Hell Fire!)
"Do y'all have high test?"
"I just caught a bream out of the branch"
"Is that Skoal Long Cut fresh?"
"What did that buck score on Pope & Young?"

- I recently found out that Georgia Tech has an alumni bar right by my office. It was a cool place too. It shall remain nameless and they shall never hear my voice in that place ever again. Also not heard in and around Georgia Tech bars:

1) "We won!"
2) "First down, Jackets!"
3) "Look, there is a girl, let's go talk to her."
4) "I hate wine coolers."
5) "I do not have an inferiority complex about UGA."

- If New Yorkers guess where a Southerner is from, 75% are likely to say Texas. The other 25% will say Alabama/Mississippi, then make a remark about racism in the 1960's/Elvis/Hurricane Katrina. They will also ask if you miss grits, have you ever been to Graceland, what do chitlins taste like and did you have a mammy growing up. (because that is the extent of their knowledge about anything Southern)

- People use straws to drink Coke out of aluminum cans. I have never seen that until I moved here. (and I use Coke in the universal sense, like all good Southern boys do. If I ever said "soda" on purpose, my mouth would leave my body and commit suicide in the East River)

- I recently read that over 800 dialects are spoken in NYC. That is unreal. I have passed through certain areas that are entirely non-English speaking, even the restaurant menus are non-English. The most amazing one to me is Polish....no other language can affix seven consonants in a row and call it a word. I swear czkjzkz means "dog."

I am often reminded of why I continue to be who I am. Because there are no "typical" New Yorkers. Nobody here fits a mold, really. You have your born and bred NYC people, immigrants, stateside expatriates, and people who just wanted to see city life all blended into one area. You are not expected to change, in fact, people would wonder why you did. You can celebrate yourself here and nobody will fault you for it. That's why we can have a Puerto Rican Day, Pakistani Independence Parade, or a Free Tibet March without incident. I can wear my Georgia gear and get a "Go Dawgs!" from a guy from Connecticut. I can speak with my twang and get a free drink in many places, except for the nameless Georgia Tech cesspool. The only time people really get frustrated with one another is during commutes, waiting in line or at sporting events.....and frankly you would get that down South too. You just probably would not hear about it in Mandarin Chinese.

Recap of the Game: I Want a Targeting Penalty on the Jumbotron

"I'm pleased where we are."

That was Mark Richt at halftime yesterday. Granted, he was accosted by the halftime interviewer and he was clearly not excited about it, but still. I almost choked on my short rib sandwich. The only thing "pleasing" about that first half was that the clock hit 0:00 and it mercifully ended. All I could think of was cheesy TV show ultimatums:

"You are the weakest link, goodbye."
"You're fired."
"The Tribal Council has spoken."
"The DNA results show that you ARE the father of D'arron-tay."

I just stared at the television and realized that I may have witnessed one of the top 5 worst halves of football in Sanford Stadium ever. Also in the running, in no particular order:

1) The second half of the 2000 Auburn game
2) The first half of the 2000 Tech game
3) The second half of the 2008 Tech game
4) The second half of the 1994 Vandy game
5) The first half of the 2008 Alabama game

The difference was that we were winning at the half of this game, which makes it almost worse. Stupid penalty after stupid penalty. A turnover. An inept secondary that resembled the mannequins at Bloomingdale's on 58th Street. In fact, the mannequins are actually better because they are serving some purpose. I did not realize that the "stand and stare" defense was still being used in college football. If we pull this garbage with Auburn, it will be 35-7 at the half. I speak for many Dawg fans when I say that I am sick of the lack of intensity. That is the difference between us and Alabama. Their intensity never waivers, they never seem to sleepwalk through any games, much less a half of football. Our team seems to do this 2-3 times a year, without fail. We did it with North Texas, Vandy and Missouri already, so I guess we needed another one to make it an even number.

I must also point out another God-awful thing before I spout some positive vibes. I received a text from a friend in the stadium. Not only did he point out that the homecoming attendance was piss poor, he also reminded me of something that I HATE beyond words. Aaron Murray completed a 23 yard touchdown pass to Michael Bennett in the second quarter, which made him the all-time SEC record holder for career touchdown passes. The potential to break this record was common knowledge on this day. Hell, when Bennett caught it, I said aloud "there it is!" Here is where my blood boils:

Did UGA acknowledge this on the Jumbotron directly thereafter? No. Instead, they played that stupid "hide the McDonald's fries behind UGA's head" video that seems to ignite our crowd for some damn reason. The fries appear, then three UGA heads pop up, the fries go behind one of the heads and then the heads spin around, trying to confuse the erudite Sanford Stadium crowd. When the heads stop spinning, the 93,000 loyal fans (or 70,000 on this day, I don't care what the stat sheet says) are encouraged to scream aloud which UGA head the fries have so deviously concealed themselves behind. AND IT WORKS! I swear, people get into this video more than a 3rd and long against Florida. There is a collective shout of the numbers "1, 2 or 3" and then we wait with baited breath for the video to reveal the fries. Oh my God, it is behind number 2!!! When they guess correctly, grown men cheer and high-five as if they just won their fantasy football pool money. Women cry and hug. Children are hoisted on shoulders like a 4th of July parade is going by. This happens at every single game. I am convinced that this recurring moment is the reason we lost the 2012 SEC Championship, that Herschel went pro early and Terrence Edwards dropped that pass in Jacksonville in 2002. I absolutely detest this video. In fact, I can only think of five things worse:

1) Conducting a deposition with Justin Bieber and Kenny Chesney in a copyright infringement lawsuit over who has the rights to wear leather shirts in public
2) Finding a bloody needle in your hamburger
3) Being locked in a Hollister store with Jason Aldean blaring over the speakers
4) The word "irregardless"
5) Listening to forty-five minute Nextel two-way radio conversations about PVC pipe at Cass Grocery.

"Hell, Randy said it was 3/4 inch."
"Naw, man, it's an inch and a half."
"Naw, Randy is usually right on these things."
"Naw he ain't."
"Should I get some 90 degree elbows?"
"Get 4."
"I'll get 5."
"Naw man, get 4. I still think it's 3/4 of an inch."
"Measure it again."
"I don't have a tape measure."
"What?"
"I don't have a tape measure."
"10-4, I am going to lunch."

So, with this knowledge, I ordered a Bulleit Bourbon and just stewed all during halftime. I felt sorry for the homecoming court actually, even though homecoming at a large university is quite impersonal. In fact, I did not know the homecoming queen in 3 out of the 4 years I was in school and only voted once because I was forced. Yet, I did not want their day to be marred by a dreadful loss. App State is not the App State of 2007 that whipped Michigan. They are 2-7 in FCS play and they are hanging right with us.

Well, that ended quickly in the second half. Apparently, the halftime motivation speeches worked. (since we need a speech to get fired up to beat App State) Murray came out firing on all cylinders. The running game really got going, the line got dominant and Gurley, Douglas and Green gashed App State. Michael "Old Faithful" Bennett just keeps rolling along. Rantavious Wooten had his best game as a Dawg. Jonathan Rumph made his presence known with a 98 yard day. Reggie Davis had a spectacular catch at the goal line. Marshall Morgan nailed another long field goal. Hutson Mason looked awesome and gave me some hope for next year. We ended up with over 500 yards of offense. The defense decided to become more than mannequins and made some plays as well. Ramik Wilson continues to rack up tackles (he leads the SEC), Ray Drew had another excellent game, Amarlo Herrera had an interception, and Chris Mayes caved in the middle of their Oline almost continuously. I am also encouraged by the play of Shaq Wiggins, Sheldon Dawson and Josh Harvey-Clemons. I think that group just needs some experience and confidence before they can be consistent. The second half was the inverse of the first and it made this Dawg happy, happy, happy.

I must say though, the referees in this game should be sanctioned. They were beyond terrible. The Corey Moore ejection and the upholding of the fumble call on Herrera was inexcusable. The TV crew was incredulous. In fact, there was a play where two members of Georgia's secondary just watched an App State player catch a ball in the air and waited for him to land before hitting him. One broadcaster said, "wow, that was a ball that Georgia should have made a play on." The other broadcaster said something to the effect of, "well, how can they? They just watched one of their own get ejected for a clean hit. They saw Ray Drew get ejected at Vanderbilt. This rule needs to be reviewed badly, it is staining the game." The Herrera call was 100% wrong. Forget indisputable evidence, there was ALL the evidence one could possibly gather that he did not fumble. If this was NCIS, the episode would have been over in 13.7 seconds. We seem to be on the wrong end of so many calls and the NCAA is slowly ruining this great game.

So, next week is Auburn. A team that has overachieved in Gus Malzahn's first season. Their quarterback is a former UGA player who was dismissed for stealing from a teammate. Sounds like another Auburn quarterback I remember. I cannot stand Auburn's football team and I hope they lose every game they play. Our defense better be ready though, these Tigers are itching for payback for the consistent beatings we have been giving them . I guess they have not been motivating (AKA paying their players) enough to maintain focus against us for the last few seasons.

Other highlights:

1) Florida sucks. Nuf said. Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of fairweathered clowns. I wish Bama and FSU could play for the National Title in Gainesville, then afterwards have a giant bonfire at the 50 yard line with us and Miami in attendance. We would invite their "fans," but they probably could not find the stadium.

2) Les Miles is the greatest halftime interviewee ever. I hope he stays at LSU until he is 90. Could you imagine a slightly senile Les Miles conducting a halftime interview? "I love this team more than those lollipops you get at the bank. We embrace the competition and this wonderful night with our awesome purple uniforms....um, do you have any tapioca pudding?"

3) Aaron Murray is only 40 touchdowns behind Case Keenum of Houston for the all time NCAA record for touchdown passes. In fact, nobody in the top ten of that category played football east of the Mississippi River. Apparently, they actually DO use mannequins on defense out west.

Misery Loves Company and I Ain't Got a Ride to Your Pity Party

This has been a week of reflection for me  It is a week where I found myself waxing philosophic in my head and then voicing my thoughts to other people. I am not one of those "quote" people who walk through life spouting off Walt Whitman or Henry David Thoreau passages to every passing ship in the night. Maybe I am feeling my age or worse yet, maturity is getting the best of me. Somebody might say, "well, that's a good thing!" I don't know, I am not sure I want to grow up yet. Frankly, this week has shown me that this world is absolutely full of miserable people and I know for a fact that I am not one of them, nor do I want to be. However, my patience is wearing awfully thin for the whiners, complainers, poormouthers, the envious, the rude, and the outright mean individuals that I come across every single day. Those who follow the George Costanza routine of "look angry and shuffle papers on your desk." Just the other day, and I kid you not, I told someone, "Man, it's a nice sunny day today!" His response:

"I don't know, I kinda wish it was raining."

Hey Eeyore, I am about to send you to the damn glue factory. Ugh.

In any event, I press on. "I rage against the dying of the light," as Dylan Thomas so eloquently puts it. (see, waxing philosphic!) Life is too short to be miserable and it's definitely too short to let other miserable people drag you down into their shame spiral (+1 for Clueless reference....yeah, I like that movie, sue me). Some people are beyond rehabilitation and their world crashes every day. They simply want company in their own personal Apocalypse and I ain't read a thing about that in the Revelation, so leave me out of it.

I remember at Cass Grocery, we had our share of moments that drove us nuts, either collectively or individually. Some were warranted: shoplifting, bitching too much about prices, using our restroom and leaving it resembling Chernobyl ten minutes after the nuclear plant exploded. Then there were trivial things that customers would do that would just absolutely get under my skin and it would ruin the next few hours because I would dwell on it. For example:

1) Getting a six pack of beer and not closing the cooler door all the way
2) Picking up a Snickers, deciding against it, and putting it in the Reeses Pieces box
3) Leaving a used coffee stirring stick on the counter
4) Watching me make a sandwich or a hot dog and say "that's too much mustard" or "put some more lettuce on there."
5) Dropping a 20 ounce plastic Coke, getting another one, and putting the ticking time bomb back in the cooler for the next guy to get victimized

 People who accomplished the above tasks (some people could do 2-3 of them in one visit to the store) were scum to me. I would just boil watching them, thinking of how much I wanted to rake their shins with my Air Jordans. To the teenage me, this was all akin to the following:

1) Voting for George McGovern for President
2) Kicking a box of lab puppies or my Trapper Keeper's velcro finally wearing out
3) Cheering for Georgia Tech or Florida on purpose
4) That POS Jeff stealing Kelly Kapowski from Zack before prom
5) Leaving my giant Sony boombox, containing my cassette single of Collective Soul's "December," in the rain

I had my reasons, mind you. Leaving the cooler door open was pure lackadaisical slackness at its worst. Pee Wee, Pee Wee Junior, Tony, Dale, Doc, Debbie, Rudy, George, and Fufu had to buy that beer too. They did not want their Olde English 800 "Forty" or 12 pack of Natty Ice to be room temperature.

**Natty Ice was the alpha and omega of beers to rural Georgians back then. It was 5.9% alcohol, which was the highest possible alcohol content allowed in Georgia at the time. "Whew boy, this stuff will get you druuuuuuuunk!" Little did they know that across the big pond, Trappist monks in Belgium were making beers with 13% alcohol. I could see a road trip now: Cedar Creek Road does Brussels. We would have those Belgians screaming profanity at Sterling Marlin and have a domestic violence charge on their record in no time flat.

Putting candy in the wrong box and the coffee stirring stick on the counter was close behind. It was just one more thing for me to do that wasted my time. People watching me make their sandwich or hot dog and critiquing my artwork really irked me. Would you stand over Leonardo Da Vinci while he painted the Mona Lisa and say, "Her smile is a little too coy."? No. You would not. Preparing the chili dog to perfection is a skill acquired over time. Nobody could concoct the perfect artery clogging, gut bomb like I could. Keep your eyes off the canvas while the artist works, please. Leaving a freshly dropped 20 ounce Coke in the cooler was just plain mean. Not only would it explode all over the person buying it, it would be all over my floor (which I would have to clean) and I would have to give them a free one for the trouble. You just cost us 4 cents and gave me another opportunity to mop.....if I had a voodoo doll, I would have thrown it in the meat slicer and flipped the switch.

See? Aren't you angry yet? Don't you want to find these people and rip them a new one? Reliving these things makes me want to......do nothing. Why? Because that is stupid and I choose to recall other things. Like the loyalty of our customer base, which includes the people who left cooler doors open. Those same people would tell a joke that would crack us up or lay drag on Cassville Road just to appease us. The people who left coffee stirring sticks on the counter and candy in the wrong box put me through college. The people watching me make their hot dog? They taught me to have thicker skin. Those who chose to leave a dropped 20 ounce Coke in the cooler? They showed me that nobody is perfect and sometimes you just have to accept people for what they are. I recall one day, I was ranting about something trivial to Billy and he said "you whine like a damned whipped mule, boy. You ain't got nothin to worthwhile to whine about." I am unaware of the sound made by a whipped mule, but it did not sound too good. You always learned a good lesson at Cass Grocery, whether by choice or by chance.

So, the point is, be happy. Stop finding every fault, every shortcoming, every little inconvenience in your life and beating yourself and everyone else to death with it. It is not interesting, it is not productive and you can't call it "venting" to mask what is really whining and bitching. Believe me, I beat several people over the head with my BS this week. I am over it. I have a Belgian restaurant nearby that has some of the good Trappist monk beer anyway. I could go over there and share a pint with some nice people. Although, the convenience store on 78th has a special on Natty Ice right now. I might just turn back the clock and indulge, call up a replay of the 1993 Daytona 500, turn on some Collective Soul and Rebel Yell everytime Ernie Irvan circles the track.

Recap of the Game: Taxation of My Soul, Without Representation

I cannot think of a Georgia football season that I have enjoyed less than this one. Maybe it's because we have so many injuries, that our defense is nothing short of terrible or the disheartening ways in which we lost to Vanderbilt and Missouri. In any event, I have stayed the course and watched every game. I have not done any recaps because frankly, I have not been inspired to do so. The games have been taxing to the point where they have ruined the rest of my Saturday, win or lose. Why? Because every season since 2006 has been this way and I am just tired of it. Our protocol is so predictable: we win a couple of close ones over rivals, we play two cupcakes, lose at least one game in such poor fashion that we may as well have forfeited (UT in 2007, Bama in 2008, Florida in 2009, the entire 2010 season, Boise in 2011, South Carolina in 2012 and Missouri in 2013) play Vandy and/or Kentucky like we forgot how to walk and talk at the same time, and sometimes look so uninspired and out of place that it makes me want to headbutt my laptop. We have lost to Michigan State in a bowl game. LSU blew us out in Atlanta after we had a lead because we punt to the best return man in the nation OUT OF OUR OWN END ZONE. We had Bama beat in 2012. Had 'em. Then our defensive line decided to take the 4th quarter off. I will NEVER forgive Kwame Geathers or Jonathan Jenkins. (who were out of shape for the game, yet showed up to the NFL combine a month later in perfect shape)We lost to Central Florida and Oklahoma State. When we get up on people, we completely take our foot off the gas and let them back into the game. Our special teams literally take years off my life every time they walk on the field. We have a defensive coordinator who is on borrowed time, counting the days until he gets back to the NFL. Yes, friends, I am just exhausted with this "same ol, same ol" stuff.

Despite all of that, I cannot say that a victory over the Swamp Lizards is not gratifying. I have little-to -no use for Florida and their "Johnny Come Lately" fanbase. Finding a non-alumni Florida fan before 1990 was like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. (+1 for Saving Private Ryan reference) Now, they are as thick as a swarm of mosquitoes over stagnant pond water. You will not find a less knowledgeable, more low-rent bunch in the country. I would bet you half of Bartow County that none of them can name a coach prior to Spurrier, one running back prior to Emmitt or a single offensive lineman that played prior to 1990. Then you add their traitorous, foul-mouthed head coach into the mix and you just ignite hatred in me, which equals inspiration to write this blog. This recap is brought to you by Starbucks, the Average White Band song "Pick Up the Pieces," Derek Jeter's new contract, Obamacare, my 28th pair of sunglasses since 2010 and the lint in my sweatpants, which is still more interesting than North Korea.

Florida kicks off to us and we literally smash it right down their throats. Todd Gurley is the biggest difference maker for us since Knowshon Moreno/AJ Green. He changes everything when he gets his mitts on the ball. His first possession was a first down gain and he came up talking and shoving the Florida defenders. Todd is a mild-mannered guy so I knew this game was going to be a mess before long. Murray marched us right down to their goal line and Gurley dragged three of them into the end zone to make it 7-0. Our line was destroying theirs completely and Will Muschamp had six mini-strokes on the sideline. The drive was the most dominating thing I have seen all season. In fact, I can only think of five things more dominating:

1) Every Mike Tyson fight prior to 1989
2) Arnold Schwarzeneggar and his team of awesomeness vs. drug dealing commandos in "Predator."
3) A group of senior citizens vs. cherry vanilla ice cream at Cass Grocery
4) Bo Jackson vs. Kansas City defense in Tecmo Bowl
5) Me vs. a cannoli at Cafe Palermo

We do one of our "directional" kickoffs to Florida and this time, it works. I do not know if this is a lack of confidence in our coverage ability (warranted) or respect for Florida's speed (unwarranted, they deserve no respect). Their anemic offense comes out and runs two garbage plays before nailing a 50 yard pass right down the middle on 3rd and long. Our cover man was completely out of position and no safety was available to come over the top to defend a damn thing. A disturbing stat flashed across the screen: "Georgia has forced seven turnovers this season, only 4 other teams in major college football have forced less." It was not shocking, but to see it in print was really disconcerting. Our defense sucks, no other way to say it. Anyone who thought we had a chance to win the SEC this year, all you have to do is watch our defense to know that is a pipe dream. Forget the injuries. Having to outscore everyone in a shootout is not a recipe for a championship, just ask the Pac-12. We give up 3rd and longs easier than France capitulating and surrendering to Germany in 1940. It's almost a rule at this point, an almost certainty that we will not stop anyone on 3rd and long. It's so maddening to watch, that I literally get physically ill as soon as the ball is snapped. In fact, there are only five things I can say are worse:

1) Having dinner with Michael Adams, Kenny Chesney, Justin Bieber and Al Sharpton at Red Lobster.
2) Trigonometry. (Still haven't figured out the point of that uselessness)
3) People who go for runs on the Central Park trail with strollers and/or dogs.
4) People who use the terms "power lunch," "yolo," "vacay," or "toodles" on purpose.
5) The 50th "Free Tibet" parade this year in Midtown involving thousands of white people being angry. (people who are neither Tibetan, have been to Tibet or know anyone from Tibet.)

Anyhow, their offense stalls out and they miss the field goal attempt. Score one for our maligned defense. Maybe the Good Lord is having mercy, I thought.

We get the ball back and strike so fast. Gurley on his gimpy ankle catches a dump pass and takes it 73 yards for another touchdown. So much for Florida's vaunted speed. They get the ball back and do nothing once again. Their freshman running back, Kelvin Taylor, is pretty good but Florida looks like the Walking Dead on offense. They kind of wander around willy-nilly until they hear a sound and they wander toward said sound aimlessly and hope to catch something. Meanwhile, Muschamp has said 67 f-bombs and rants and raves about every penalty called against Florida in a manner that would win him an Oscar if he was in a Scorsese movie. Florida is a mess and I love it. The rest of the half is a back and forth where we score nine more points on three field goals. Gurley is gassed from the lack of playing and Brendan Douglas/JJ Green do a nice job filling in. Brendan has become one of those guys that you cannot hit up top because you are sure to make his highlight reel. He destroyed one of Florida's secondary members on a nice 15 yard gain. Rhett McGowan makes the play of the game to get us in range for our last field goal. They end up with a field goal and several penalties for unsportsmanlike conduct. The camera caught Dante Fowler trying to poke Gurley's eye after a tackle, a play that I hope is reviewed by the SEC and some form of punishment is meted out. If Ray Drew is ejected from Vandy for pushing their quarterback to the ground, Fowler should be thrown out of the next three games. However, I have no confidence in the league or the NCAA to do anything. We go into halftime up 23-3 and I feel like we have control.

"Control" is a song by Janet Jackson. The final seconds of the song, she says:

I'm in control,
uhh,
I'm in control,
ahh,
don't make me lose it,
control.

We lost it and we lost it in such a typical, boneheaded way that makes Georgia football for the last seven seasons feel like a job rather than a fun activity. Our offensive playcalling went completely conservative (playing not to lose, rather than to win) and our players make moronic mistakes that let the other team right back in the game. The lateral fumble and the sack for a safety....ten years ago, I would have been incredulous. Now, I just say "typical." Our players and more importantly, our coaching staff, play not to lose when we have a lead. Why are we throwing laterals with a twenty point lead? Why aren't we toss sweeping them to death? Why run a slow developing play action in your own end zone? As Janet Jackson says above, UHHHHHHH!!!!!AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I could feel my blood boiling. It was like a bad Twilight Zone. (+1 for Tommy Boy reference) Then we blow that 4th and 1 play completely and I just could not take anymore. Gurley had three guys on him, untouched, before he could make a cut. All of these Top Ten recruiting classes, pre-season hype, the beat writers saying, "this Georgia team is different than last year, this team could be special," blah blah blah. Nothing has changed. We are lucky that Florida is a bigger mess than we are. They are a collection of thugs who are a reflection of a bad coach. Our lack of intensity or ability to put anyone away with a big lead is a reflection as well. The ending of the game was more "thank God" than "hooray, we won!" Let's not forget that "12 men on the field" penalty AFTER A $%%%#^ TIMEOUT. Control. I lost it.

I will take the win, most certainly. Corey Moore's sack was a great play. Murray played well for the most part. Gurley was awesome. However, we are unranked, we lost to Vandy and were pummeled at home by Missouri. We have almost no shot to make it to Atlanta and if we do, Alabama will sacrifice us to the football gods like an Aztec virgin. Does anyone believe we could play with FSU right now? If you do, I will have whatever you are drinking. Somebody called me "Debbie Downer" earlier......no. I'm more like "Ricky Reality." We will go to another non-descript bowl game and then talk all summer about how next year will be "the year." No. It will not. I firmly believe that.