A.G.E's Joint

  Check your oil, Mister? Is that one of those Mercury Convertibles? Oh, a 409? I bet kids these days never seen one. It looks like that left front's a little low. I'll get it. Yeah, all they want is look at a screen They don't even dance when the Opry's on. Makes me gladdder to up here in the hills. Don't even talk about Asheville or Charlotte Them's dens of iniquity. Anyways, you're ready to go. Be careful down there in the notch Not all the roads are back. 

  3 A.M. Can't sleep News wasn't good Another landslide in the way My tired eyes scan the screen The quote shows Asking me What can you control? Yes-Change No-Accept and move on Either way It's a different world. 

  He'd always been spiritual, constantly stopping to   reflect on his life and where he was going. Twenty years in L.A. had taught him a couple of things. Controlling all the events in your life just wasn't possible and misery couldn't be wished away. It crept up when he least expected it to. The business had often made him feel alone and afraid. Every project teetered on the edge of failing and there was little he could do about it. There was no family to support or to support him and he accepted that. But he plugged on. He was back in the mountains he visited so often in his youth, working as a script consultant for a project. The funding had been only approved in the last week and the Production team needed someone with experience in the area to reconcile plot inconsistencies. The director put him up in a house on Lake Chatuge not a quarter mile down the road from the church. On a whim, he decided to see it.  Memories of Homecomings past rushed forth. Stilted gree...

  The church hadn't changed much, perched over Highway 288 like a Monopoly piece.The white picket fence shone with its annual paint job. Portable gazebos donated by the local funeral home dotted the lawn, protecting the dinner on the grounds. The trays of potato salad and sliced ham protected from stray pine needles.  Memories of Homecoming past rushed forth. Stilted greetings, Praise the Lord's and too much food, all to draw the backsliders to the flock. Mom would give him a pill to keep him from getting sick on the road home to Atlanta before they left. But, the medicine never worked. Mountain twists caused cold sweat to issue out from the edges of his crew cut. Brother would make sure he moved from side to side until he would puke harder than a shook Coke can. The car would stop with two cussing parents holding paper sacks to his mouth and wet paper towels to his head. That was long ago. After Mom died, Dad didn't want to have anything to do with the church, moun...

Hey, Heidy and Howdy!  It's your favorite randy dandy old time disc man Harry Handy, here to fill up your time in God's waiting room.  And have I got a story for you.  Ol' Harry here took a road trip out west, to beautiful Santa Fe, New Mexico.  I'd heard it was lovely and a great place to relax after dealing with program managers without a clue.  I mean, I know the music exists to sell advertising, but funeral home ads? I just had to go somewhere far, far away. Getting there was quite the ordeal.  I flew out the nest and up to St. Louis, where I had to do the one thing air travelers dread, changing planes. We were a little late getting off and my layover was short, so I knew it was going to be hustle. I asked the gate agent coming off the plane where my next flight was.  It was all the way at the other end of the airport and I had 20 minutes to get there.  It kind of looked like this. On the way over, I had to visit the facilities....