Lazy Southern Sundays

Subtitled “It’s Not the Heat, It’s the Humidity”

As much as I love autumn – and make no mistake, I love autumn – sometimes, I miss those unseasonably hot days in October and November that you can only get in the DEEP south.  An unexpected cookout simply because the temp is 87 is sometimes just what the doctor ordered.

This will sound weird, but there’s something both sultry and electric about the heat of the south.  Not only because everyone gets half naked (country boys washing their cars in wifebeaters…good lord!) but also because it makes everything go a little slower, a little easier, a little softer.  I remember taking a trip to the country with my mom around my birthday.  I was in a tank top, jean shorts and some jellies.  My feet stank to be damned – just HELLACIOUS.  But, that’s autumn in the south.

it’s strange, the things you miss.

just b


“Even though the birds ain’t singin, and the sun ain’t shinin…”

“…it looks like a beautiful morning.”

– “Beautiful Morning” Little Brother

So, I discovered Friday night that there is a major setback in my routine.  A setback that would usually reduse me to tears and cry out asking why I have been forsaken.  But I know my life, and I know that for whatever reason, the universe has to keep me on my toes.  Considering our economy, I’m sort of glad that I know what it’s like to be focused on my grind and make a dollar out of fifteen cents.  Your girl can DO the damn thing with some beans, ya heard me.  I won’t even talk about how I can get down with some chicken thighs and lemon pepper.

I should totally be asleep, particularly considering that I like to watch reruns of “The Practice” early on Sunday mornings, but I typically wake up early anyway.  I feel so accomplished, because i did everything that was on my list today.  It kept me busy, but I don’t have the beat-down feeling I was anticipating.

Quick!  Five things worse than that movie “The Cookout?”  Wasn’t it just DEPLORABLE.

While we’re on the topic of public tragedies, GARY BUSEY!  Holy shit.  I talk to my kids about drugs regularly, and my children being my children, ask me the whys and wherefores of why drug abuse is bad.  Gary Busey was on television.  I pointed to that.  This dude has been off coke, according to him, for longer than my son has been alive, and yet he is still totally off his nut.  Astounding.

I think it’s time to go to sleep now.