"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


He Hasn't Dropped Them, Forgot Them, or Anything

R.I.P. Christopher Reeve. Today I want to believe in an afterlife, and I hope he's running marathons up there.

Bacchanal went by in a blur. I haven't heard the final numbers, but I'm confident we will be able to continue our scholarship program thanks to the auction. After working the event for three years, I'm starting to recognize the monied Cookevillians. Bacchanal Sunday should be called the "Lost Sunday" because when you start drinking wine at 11:30 am, by 6 pm you're ready for bed, or Thai food. We chose the latter.
We are fortunate to have a fairly decent Thai restaurant in our metropolitan Cookeville, but god knows how they stay in business. When our rowdy crowd arrived, there were two other occupied tables, one by Susan and her parents, one by Jasmin, Kyle, and his parents. We took up about three, so five tables, all craft center kids. When we left, another table had been taken on the patio...by John, Sarah, and Kristin. My classmates and I were the sum total of their Sunday night business. I'll bet pennies to pad thai that Applebee's was on a wait all night long.
Nashville Public Radio is doing a three-part series on Meth cooking in Tennessee this week, today's story was focused where? Cookeville? Shocking.