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Posts Tagged ‘Rednecks’

Dear Louis Miller,

Congratulations on opening the new international terminal at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. As general manager, you must be very proud.

I’m sure it took the involvement and commitment of many people to make the new terminal a reality.

May I recommend adding one more person to that team? Perhaps a proofreader?

Photo courtesy of Steve Barnes

I mean, Atlanta and the airlines sunk $1.4 billion into the four-year project. Surely, everyone could have spent just a little more money and time making sure to spell “transportation” correctly. Really, it’s not spelled the way many Atlantans pronounce it. I promise.

The South already battles the reputation that it is the Land of IdiotsRecent behavior doesn’t help. Please don’t add fuel to this fire. Please fix the sign.

Congratulations again on the fine achievement, and I look forward to using the new terminal.

Sincerely,
Beth

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It’s been two weeks (two weeks!) since my last post. I have one word as an excuse: Vegas. Here are two more: Vegas recovery.

The city is known as the adult Disney World for a reason. And I can’t really discuss that reason, because, well, you know.

I will share a little, though: I was there to present a paper and attend a conference. I flew out a couple of days early with Eddie and our friends Royce and Sarah.

The first thing we did? Renew our vows, of course. Our wedding 16.5 years ago was a tasteful, lovely affair in Forsyth Park in Savannah.

So naturally, we went with something tacky for the renewal: The Little White Wedding Chapel. It was the chapel of choice for such esteemed celebrities as Britney Spears and Sinéad O’Connor, so it was good enough for us.

In the back of a pink Cadillac in the Tunnel of Love, we promised to love each other in sickness and health, and all the rest of that stuff.

The way the minister performed the ceremony, however, makes us think we are now all married to each other.

I’m OK with that. These are the people we spend the most time with anyway, so why not?

Up next: bizarre behavior (not mine).

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The MPAA finally caved to pressure regarding the film “Bully,” and lowered the rating to PG-13 from R. That makes it easier for target audiences to see it.

Good.

I don’t really understand why bad language and nudity is not OK, but people getting peppered with gunfire is just fine. (I should ask my mother-in-law. She once fled the room when a Victoria’s Secret commercial came on and told my brother-in-law we were watching porn. This is the same woman who sat through all of the über-violent “Battle Royale.”)

Bullying mystifies me. We’re all freaky in our own way. We should embrace that, right?

“Be yourself.” I guess it’s a trite phrase that is easier said than done. The older I get, the easier it is. I am who I am, for better or worse.

I have no shame. For example, I freely admit to:

  • Loving Toby Keith’s “Red Solo Cup” and Luke Bryan’s “Country Girl (Shake It For Me).”
  • And loving Hanson’s “MMMbop” and Britney Spears’ “Toxic.”
  • And also loving the Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” and Hüsker Dü’s “In a Free Land.”
  • While in high school, sneaking out of the house to see the Butthole Surfers at the Metroplex in Atlanta. (Apologies to my dad who reads my blog and may not know this.) They almost burned down the stage = best night ever.
  • Ogling men. (Look, before you say, “Poor Eddie,” let me assure you he knows, rolls his eyes, and let’s me carry on. We’re married, not dead.)
  • Being willing to break my marriage vows for Johnny Depp. (Eddie knows this too.)
  • Being as fascinated by Christina Aguilera’s rack as Eddie is.
  • Wanting a monster truck. (I used to drive a red pickup. I miss it.)
  • Preferring raunchy comedies and D-grade horror movies over any of the crap I’m supposed to like. (“English Patient” and “Lord of the Rings,” I’m talking about you.)
  • Sometimes telling my kids they are driving me batshit crazy.
  • Having tickets to see Adam Ant in concert Sept. 29.
  • Nursing an addiction to “Words With Friends” and “Draw Something.”
  • Liking beer and wine more than fancy mixed drinks.
  • Being a little bit of a hillbilly.
  • Adoring the F word and its big sister, M— F—.
  • Wanting to put bacon in everything.
  • Thinking some plastic surgery might be a good thing. (A little Botox here and there …)
  • Wanting desperately to go noodling.

Express yourself. Let your freak flag fly. I won’t judge. Instead, I’ll think you are awesome.

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Camping seems like a great idea until you find yourself coated in mosquito bites, sleeping on a rapidly deflating air mattress, and lathering your children in calamine lotion because of a mysterious rash.

Why do people in first-world countries see the need to schlep their belongings out to the woods to sleep on the ground? Isn’t one of the benefits of being citizens of a developed nation the fact that we have beds, shelter, etc.?

I didn’t think about any of this as I happily agreed to go camping with two other families at Edisto Island State Park this weekend. Roaring fire? S’mores? Getting back to nature? Sign me up.

But these should have been my first and second clues that this was a bad idea:

Uh oh.

The creatures were out in full force. Worms were rappelling out of the trees like Tom Cruise in “Mission Impossible.”

This worm took up residence in my hair.

And that suited Dominic and Gideon just fine.

Dominic shows off his worm habitat.

To be fair, the campsite was equipped with water and electricity, so it is not like we were truly roughing it.

Camp, sweet camp

But as soon as we put up the tent, it rained. And rained. And rained. We stayed inside and watched superhero cartoons.

The rain finally moved on, leaving everything dirty and muddy. Nate’s shoes were destroyed, so he borrowed Charlotte’s as he went to get a drink (and grab Charlotte’s purse).

Nate brings sexy back.

Despite the monsoon, we did have the requisite cookout, fire and s’mores.

And Nate’s sexy look worked on someone: a friendly Southern toad.

The next day we hit the beach.

This is one way to keep him still.

Gideon can't stand to be left out.

Dominic finds some kind of crab.

New media and old media happily coexist on the beach.

Good company, lots of laughs, and some relaxation almost made up for the critters, dirt and back pain.

However, as Eddie groused the whole time he was loading and unloading the car, I’m going to guess that is the last time he strays from the comfort of his own habitat.

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It’s good to have friends you’ve known for decades. You can be your unvarnished self and they still like you. My unvarnished self spent the weekend in New Orleans with my friend Julia, whom I’ve known since eighth grade. She was there for a conference* so I used frequent flier miles to join her. My cost for transportation and hotel: $10.

Savannah has been called a small New Orleans. It’s more like this: Savannah is the girl with “a reputation” who still dresses up every day and goes to church on Sundays. New Orleans is her trashy older sister who whores herself out to buy heroin.

To report everything that we did and saw will take more than one post (and I’m not sure I want to incriminate myself or Julia). I’ll just share with you some visual highlights.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

* This is what happens when people get older and have jobs and mortgages. When they are desperate to get out of town, they join up with friends who are going to conferences for work (read: free hotel room).

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Lured by the media’s suggestion that the Savannah St. Patrick’s day crowd could be the largest ever, I left my family and the quiet comfort of our home and headed downtown.

Why?

Because if there’s going to be insanity on display, then I want to see it.

The first time I witnessed the St. Pat’s festivities in Savannah, I was a sophomore in college. The fraternity for which I was a little sister was part of the parade. I spent my time in a fetal position in the back seat of the “float” (which was a van with signs on it). Green beer was not what took me down; it was a tainted hamburger.

Anyway, I arrived downtown just as the parade finished. My mistake. The cops directing traffic were already irritated, and the day was young. I found a parking place without too much trouble (what a shock!), met up with Royce (a frequent partner in crime), and headed to River Street.

As we walked down the Factors Walk steps, Royce said, “Here we go into the belly of the beast.” Then the drunk guy behind us repeated it, adding “That’s about right.”

So, without further ado, here is what you missed if you didn’t heed the beast’s call to “GET IT MAH BELLY!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

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I get it. I do.

Rush Limbaugh makes his living by making outrageous statements and polarizing people. He thrives on controversy because that drives an increase in listeners. His livelihood depends on him being a jerk.

So no one should be surprised at his latest antics, and that it took three days for him to apologize to Sandra Fluke. He had to make sure that people were good and outraged. He had to make sure people were paying attention to him.

It’s all part of his shtick. I doubt he even believes all the things he says. I worry more about the people who actually listen to him, believe him, agree with him, and use his words to get fired up in their own lives and voting booths.

But let’s look at the controversy. I don’t mean birth control pills or whether it is actually used for contraception (in many cases, it is not). I don’t mean Limbaugh’s crazy assumption that you need to have a pill each time you have sex. I mean the issue of women having sex in the first place (something that frightens Rick Santorum very much).

Limbaugh said about Fluke, “She’s having so much sex, it’s amazing she can still walk.” That wasn’t the point of her congressional committee testimony, and I have no idea whether she is getting it on regularly or not. But what if she is? So what?

Why is it still OK, in 2012, to brand a woman as a “slut” for enjoying herself? Men have been doing it for years, and earning acclaim (see Warren Beatty, Hugh Hefner, Gene Simmons, Gerard Butler, etc.). Note the difference between the terms “ladies man” and “whore.”

Why are we still rooted in the 1950s idea of what a woman should do and be? I should ask my mother-in-law. She’s still pissed that I’m not home all day with the kids. (It doesn’t impress her a bit that I have a Ph.D., great job, and I make it home in time to cook dinner for Eddie every day.)

Why aren’t there more women in positions of power in the United States? According to the 2010 Census, woman outnumber men 157 million to 151.8 million.

I’ll tell you why: Women often have a hard time getting along with other women. You need proof? Watch this season of “Survivor.” (Or don’t. It is embarrassing.) This season’s twist is that all the contestants are in the same camp, but they are on teams by gender.

Instead of using their collective skills and knowledge to work together and build a shelter, make fire, etc., they’ve been racing over to the men’s shelter to “get warm for five minutes.” (If you know you are going to be on “Survivor,” wouldn’t you practice making fire?)

They lost an easy challenge because they could not figure out how to work together.

I want these smart, strong women to start supporting and relying on each other. Men are often dismissive of women; women shouldn’t do it too.

I know, I know: Aggressive men are “go-getters” while aggressive women are “bitches.” But the fact that women outnumber men means that we can change that image, as long as we aren’t doing the name-calling also.

March is Women’s History Month. Women, now is the time to speak up, speak out, make a difference.

And if you want to get it on with hundreds of people, Sandra Fluke, do it. I won’t judge you. Limbaugh can kiss my butt as it walks away to help foster true equality.

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Warning: This post contains graphic images and text that may be disturbing to sensitive readers.

(Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

I don’t usually talk about politics in this blog, but I’m concerned about the Republican Party. They’ve had four years to get their act together and this is what they’ve come up with:

How are these guys the best the party can offer?

I can’t address all the craziness these folks have perpetrated over the past few months. Here are a few of the tastiest tidbits.

Mitt Romney

During an economic policy address at Ford Field in Detroit, he mentioned that his wife “drives a couple of Cadillacs.” Later, he explained that they were parked at their different houses. You know, for convenience. Oh. OK. Of course. He must not have learned anything from poor John McCain in 2008.

Romney is like the uptight, nerdy dad trying desperately to “get real” with the cool teenage son. Think Phil Dunphy.

Rick Santorum

At a speech at an Americans for Prosperity forum in Michigan, he derided Obama as a “snob” for suggesting that Americans should go to college. Hmmm … I guess he knows a thing or two about college. He has three degrees: a B.A., M.B.A. and J.D. I suppose he was indoctrinated by those “liberal college professors.” Quelle horreur!

And, by the way, look at the priority other countries place on higher education. The United States is slipping further behind. Do we really want to be the Patrick Star of the globe?

With his sweater vest, he reminds me of the teenaged son’s irritating, know-it-all best friend: Eddie Haskell.

Newt Gingrich

How is he a viable candidate? Let’s give credit to the flux capacitor that transported us back to the 1990s. It was a more innocent time. He was able to squall freely about Bill Clinton’s sexcapades while carrying on a hot and heavy affair with Whitehall Barbie. And he’s trying to represent a party that espouses family values such as preserving the sanctity of marriage. OK. Oh, and he wants to colonize the moon.

He’s like the drunk uncle who passes out on the couch during the family meal. Or like an older Arthur.

Ron Paul

It is amazing that he is running as a Republican in 2012, considering his Libertarianesque leaning (that is actually more like the Republican Party of old). I guess he thinks the Republicans are his best chance (according to him, “parties are pretty irrelevant”). He’s clearly not considered a contender. The debates were tough to watch. Even though the man was speaking some sense, his opponents looked at him patronizingly.

In the family dynamic, Paul is the senile grandpa allowed at the dinner table until he pinches the daughter-in-law’s backside when she goes for more rolls. Then it’s back to the nursing home for Old Man Simpson.

So this is what we’ve got:

Lest you think I’m a “liberal college professor” or part of the “left-wing media,” I’m not giving Democrats a pass. They’ve just (wisely) kept their collective mouths shut and let the crazies duke it out.

In the interest of full disclosure, I do have to unveil a skeleton in my closet. (Remember, I warned you about graphic images.) Here it is in all its tattered, bony glory:

I was Newt’s press intern during the Jim Wright scandal. So glad the days of “mindless cannibalism” are over. Oh … wait.

(Notice my hand is in my OWN pocket.)

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About 400 people have linked, emailed, tweeted or otherwise made me aware of this cartoon:

I love the cartoon, and I love that people thought (think) of me when they saw (see) it.

(That’s indeed how I feel on a regular basis.)

While most of my friends and family know me as the grammar guru, the Internet thinks I’m a different kind of freak. Just look at the search terms people used that led them to my blog.

Finding me via “parasites” and other such terms makes sense because of my “Procrastination by parasite” post.

And “rednecks” also makes sense because of my frequent posts about the “Redneck Games.”

“Butterfly McQueen” and “antithesis” led searchers to posts about rhetorical devices.

I can even explain “std in the mouth” because I admitted in the procrastination post that my leap into the information vortex includes viewing images of “STD outbreaks” and “meth mouth.”

The last term is inexplicable on many levels: Who uses “inhumans wallpaper” as a search term? Why did the search engine pick me? What did searchers really want?

Not someone who likes to talk about grammar, for sure.

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So … it is now Jan. 19, well past the time when many people abandon their new year’s resolutions. It seemed like a good time to check in with mine.

  • try noodling. I still haven’t found a guide.
  • wear skirts more often.So far, I’m sporting a skirt once a week. That’s a huge increase from about twice in all of last year.
  • go to Lacoste again (or, at the very least, drink more French wine). Check “yes” on the second part.
  • speak more Spanish at home and keep practicing French. Not so much, unless cursing counts.
  • acquire more chickens. I’ll start looking for chicks in March.
  • clean out my pantry. I got rid of a couple of items. OK, so they were expired. It’s a start.
  • stop letting my son’s superhero noises bother me. That’s an uphill battle, but I’m working on it.
  • see Adam Ant in concert.I bought tickets for the Feb. 11 show. Then he had to push the tour back six months. (He’s not in rehab again.) (OK, that’s what his people say.)
  • see Van Halen reunited with David Lee Roth in concert. They will be in the Southeast in April.
  • visit the Brannens in Abu Dhabi. Hmmm … March or June.
  • go camping at least once. Too cold right now.
  • see my friend Tina’s new place and finally talk her into visiting us. Hasn’t happened.
  • stop pretending I like to listen to NPR in my car. I outed myself during a class yesterday. Liberation!
  • audition for a play or musical. I hear there are auditions for “Rent” in March.
  • actually go out for drinks/dinner with my friends Matt, Pam, Kathy, Lee, etc., instead of just talking about it. Hasn’t happened yet.
  • either part ways with my padding or to stop talking about it. I’ve been to the gym twice a week since Jan. 1 AND I made money because of it, thanks to GymPact.
  • make homemade pasta more often. I made shrimp and mushroom ravioli last week.
  • take a cooking class to improve my knife skills. Signed up for a class next month.
  • go to more of the interesting festivals I like so much (such as the Redneck Games). The Redneck Expo and Golf Cart Rally will be held April 6-7 in Bainbridge. That sounds like a winner!
  • write more, read more, talk less. I’ve written columns for the local paper, so that’s good. (What’s bad: I let more than two weeks pass between posts on this blog.) I’ve mostly caught up on my magazine reading. And I caught myself being quiet and not chiming into a conversation the other day. Progress!

So there you have it. I’ve also added one more: Learn to do the Running Man and Moonwalk.

How are you doing with yours?

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