Au revoir, Columbus

Tonight is my last night in Columbus. And tomorrow, June 2, is my final day as a full-time employee of the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer, although my column will continue to run in the Sunday Ledger-Enquirer on a freelance basis.

Starting D-Day, Monday, June 6, I will be the new Director of Communications for The Fuller Center for Housing in Americus, Ga. It's the organization Millard Fuller founded after he was squeezed out by the corporate culture that began to infiltrate Habitat for Humanity, the charitable organization he and wife Linda founded in the 1970s. The Fuller Center is sort of a Habitat Orthodox, if you will. It's focus is putting roofs over people's heads. It doesn't drown itself in rules, dogma or corporate pettiness. It's focus is on the simplicity of the mission itself. My job will be to help spread the word about what we do. The mission sells itself, especially once you see the work in action and the difference it makes.

I'm proud of the 14-plus years I've spent at the Ledger-Enquirer and the nearly 22 years I've spent in the newspaper business. Every day since 1989, I have been employed by one of four different newspapers, The Americus Times-Recorder, the Citizen and Georgian of Montezuma, the Valdosta Daily Times and the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer. I feel extremely fortunate to have fallen in love with the cities of Americus, Valdosta and Columbus along the way.

I feel even more fortunate to be returning to Americus. I've always said tongue-in-cheek that Americus has more crazy people per capita than any city in the nation. I mean that in an endearing way. Folks are delightfully crazy in Americus. Sumter County also has character out the wazoo! From the Windsor to Monroe's Hot Dogs to Koinonia to Jimmy Carter and Plain to Pat's Place to Andersonville to Lake Blackshear to my buddy Paul's amazing restaurant, the Station ... well, there's just no place like it. If it were oceanside, it just might be perfect. Oh well, the ocean's not that far away.

Granted, there's much I'll miss about Columbus. The Riverwalk. Catching rising musical acts downtown. A few good friends. Journalists who strive to do great jobs despite the vitriolic negativity that seems to permeate this town and perhaps society itself. Though I'm hoping that's more a product of being in a business that seems to shed light on and bring out the worst in people.

At age 40, and less than three weeks from 41, it's time for a change. I'm looking forward to a new phase in my life. Looking forward to being closer to family and old friends. Looking forward to spending much more time with my son. Looking forward to seeing stars in the sky over the cabin in Englishville. Looking forward to the occasional Troyburger, though not too many. Looking forward to a new career. Looking forward to finally finishing that novel. And looking forward to embarking upon a new life with my beautiful sweetheart of a girlfriend.

So, I take my leave of this town thankful for the good times and the bad, and thankful for the many lessons I've learned. And I enter phase 2 of my life with hope, optimism and little restored idealism.

The future looks bright indeed.

Lil' Top Gun

My 11-year-old son Saylor went flying with the local Young Eagles program that comes to the Columbus Metropolitan Airport the last Saturday of every month. Kids ages 8-17 can go on a free flight, although with much publicity, they may have to recruit more pilots. Saylor was lucky enough to go up with John, who had an experimental two-seater, so Saylor was automatically the co-pilot. And he was pretty thrilled with getting to see his native Columbus from the sky. And, oh by the way, the experience was free. Amazing how many similar gems there are in this area for kids to experience. All you've got to do is look.

Ice Ice Baby

Ah, nothing like a good coating of ice that feels a little like broken glass. The kids are out of school and the day is filled with the lovely sounds of screams and wails of children diving into what they think is snow. Oh, well, it's a day off from school, and that's really all that matters. I know my little boy is happy.

This is what Broadway in Columbus looks like near my apartment. When we used to get ice storms back home in Oglethorpe, we'd meet behind the Lutheran Church and play tackle football. Few things are more beautiful than a blood-stained field of once pristine ice and snow.

Blawg Wild is coming back

It's 2011, I'm 40 years old, divorced, have moved from a 5-acre spread and 3,000-square-foot-foot home in the country to a tiny apartment in the historic district of Columbus, and I'm wondering what the heck my next step will be. Will I stay in the newspaper business? Will I have a novel published? Will those annoying alien abductions start up again?

Who knows?

So what better time to start blogging?

Starting next week, I'm bringing Blawg Wild back. Expect a good ol' boy spin on a few crazy things going on in the world, but now expect a lot more personal notes. 2010 was a humbling year, so I might as well let it all hang out for the world to see. I am who I am, and I'm no longer willing to apologize for myself or hide my feelings. I'm a pretty nice guy with some atypical views on politics, religion and life in general. It's kind of a midlife crisis without enough money for a sportscar.

Should be an interesting ride.

Genre buster

When Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" hit radio this year with its catchy sampling from "Werewolves of London" and "Sweet Home Alabama," I could have sworn it was a rock song. After all, it was played often on Columbus' Rock 103. But in the past few days I've heard it on Q107.3 (Top 40), Kissin 99.3 (country) and even Sunny 100 (adult contemporary ... think songs like Daniel Powter's godawful "Bad Day"). I'm sure I'll hear it on Georgia Public Radio this weekend, maybe right before "A Prairie Home Companion."

I'm all for busting labels, and I'll be danged if I ever let anyone put me in one of society's confining boxes. But I've had this song on MP3 for a while, plus I heard it at my sister Laurie's luau at least 14 times last month before I had to jump in the pool at 3 a.m. just to get away from it. But I guess that's the sign of a good song -- when they play it 'til you hate it. And I can't begrudge any success that comes to good old-fashioned white trash. Even if he's from Michigan and not the Dirty South.

Then again, the guy did get arrested for fighting outside an Atlanta Waffle House. If that ain't grounds for getting your Southern citizenship, I don't know what is.

WOLVERINES!

This just in: Russia has invaded Georgia. If you don't believe me, you can read about it here.

They tried to warn us about this in the 1980s with the movie "Red Dawn," but we've gotten complacent about the Russians. I've tried to get information from Free America on the radio, but they've taken over the airwaves and filled it with propaganda from John Tesh ... and regular playings of "Sweet Home Alabama" to placate the occupied locals.

Last I heard, they were closing in on Columbus, having already taken over LaGrange, Upatoi, Cusseta (where they were briefly caught in a speedtrap) and Ladonia. So, we seem to be surrounded. I'm going to get my letterman's jacket and a BB gun and head up to Pine Mountain, which I'll use as a base to launch commando attacks on the Russians. Who's with me?!

WOLVERINES!

Loveless noodles

While we were eating at a fairly new Italian restaurant in Columbus, my son took one bite of his spaghetti and refused to eat the rest. He wound up sampling some of our pizza, while I finished off his dish.

When the waitress noticed he hadn't eaten it, she asked, "You didn't like it?"

"No, ma'am," he said. "I couldn't taste the love in it like my Mama's."

Bet he couldn't dance

Total theft from Monday's Ledger-Enquirer in the "Looking Back" 50 years ago section, here's an item from the Columbus police blotter in 1958:

Police are looking for a person who is missing two left legs.

Officers said they found two artificial left legs Saturday night on the steps of an abandoned funeral home on Sixth Avenue and 23rd Street.

The owner, or owners, may claim the legs at police headquarters.

I'd keep you posted as developments warrant, but I have a feeling the case is just going in circles.

More outsourcing

Due to an influx of terrorists who've killed innocent people in the name of Allah, Hell has become overcrowded, taxing its resources. In an announcement this morning, Satan said Hell will now outsource all of its operations to the Georgia Department of Driver Services, with the Columbus office taking the lead.

"The Columbus office is a lot like Hell anyway," said Satan, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. "The buildings even look the same. But when you get through the long line to finally reach the door of Hell, there's no air-conditioning inside. About the only difference. I assure you that condemned souls can count on the same brutal torture they've come to expect from Hell."

Hell's stock plunged $1.75 on the Hades Stock Exchange following the announcement.

Good for Jekyll

Public outcry and some official opposition has led developers to cancel plans for a $352 million project on Georgia's Jekyll Island, which, by state law, must remain 65 percent undeveloped. Once a retreat for some of America's wealthiest people (including Rockefellers, Carnegies, Goodyears and DuPonts), the Jekyll Island Club once had members representing one-seventh of the world's wealth at the beginning of the 20th century. Fortunately, they turned the island over to the state of Georgia, which has done a good job of keeping it as natural as possible.

Unlike a lot of states (hint: Florida), Georgia's coast is mostly unspoiled and beautiful. There's a smattering of hotels, condos, restaurants and retail, but nothing like you'll see from, say, Panama City to Pensacola down in Florida. I'm glad the developers pulled out, although I suspect it may have less to do with public pressure and more to do with America's failing economy.

If you get a chance, go to Jekyll. It's a great place to get delightfully bored. But don't waste time. You never know when somebody might flash enough cash in front of somebody to spoil it all. Or Columbus could annex the island, and within a few months it'll be a retail and traffic nightmare like North Columbus.

Head cases

The Georgia General Assembly (in yet another example why they should just take a year off every now and then and save us tax dollars by not meeting) is now considering a bill that would allow motorcycle riders to ride without wearing helmets. Don't know whether I should weigh in, considering the dichotomy of my views on motorcycles (I have friends who ride them and I have a blast at motorcycle paradise Angel City, and yet I hate unnecessary noise and the way riders get a free pass to speed and break traffic laws in Columbus). But what the heck, I'll weigh in anyway.

I guess I'm gonna have to side with liberty here. You should have the freedom to spill your brains on the highway. But know that it won't be a lot of comfort to the family members you leave behind to know that you died free in an otherwise minor accident. I guess we should only legislate stupidity when it begins to affect other folks.

So, let the wind blow through your hair (or around your bald head for my motorcyclist buddy Gregg) but please don't crack your skull open in front of me on the highway.

Tornader!

The alarm for the statewide tornado drill is blaring all across Columbus as I'm writing this and every dog in the neighborhood is howling and barking. Except mine, Pepper, who's too busy chewing up stuff. This reminds me of noon back home in Oglethorpe, when they would blare the fire engine to signal lunch time I guess (as if I were gonna miss that) and our dog would run across the street to our neighbor Ms. Cheek's backyard to howl back at what it thought must have been the altar from which he was supposed to howl to the dog god every day at noon.

Week in review 19

• Dumb Crook Alert: A Wilcox County, Ga., woman was arrested after she called local police to help ‘‘get her money back’’ after she was unhappy with the crack cocaine she purchased. Man, what's this world coming to when you can't even trust a good ol' South Georgia crack dealer?!
• President Bush's "brain", Karl Rove, resigns. Rove says he needed a bigger job than Bush's brain.
• Hall-of-Fame shortstop and New York Yankees announcer Phil Rizzuto dies at 89. "Heaven must have needed a shortstop," says Yankees owner George Steinbrenner. Don't worry, George, I'm sure if heaven needs a greedy pompous ass, they'll call you.
• The Dow Jones Industrial Average plummets 14,762,971 points, meaning everyone with a 401K will have to pay $45 a month for the joy of being retired.
• A West Virginia man is suing McDonald's for $10 million after biting into a Quarter Pounder, only to find it had cheese, which he had requested not be on it because he is severely allergic to it. Of course, he didn't notice it had cheese because he waiting until he got home to eat it in a darkened room. At no time did he smell the cheese, nor check to make sure it had no cheese. Because, you know, it's not like a fast-food restaurant ever messed up an order or anything.
• In a related story, Chris Johnson files suit against newspapers in Americus, Valdosta and Columbus, noting that he is severely allergic to work.
• In a related related story, newspapers in Americus, Valdosta and Columbus file a countersuit against Chris Johnson, claiming "What work??"
• As usual, Princeton tops U.S. News & World Report's annual college rankings. Jim Bob Jenkins' Transmission School comes in at a surprising No. 5, just ahead a Essie Mae Banks' Hair-Cuttin' School.

It ain't no Southern thing

Make no mistake about it: I am from the sticks. I grew up in a mostly rural, very poor county of Georgia. We all got free lunches at my school. My hometown had -- and still has -- just one traffic light. I am a Southern boy, and I'll always be a Southern boy. And in my 37 years, all of which I've lived in Georgia (Oglethorpe, Valdosta, Americus and Columbus), I've never known a single person involved in dogfighting. I've never heard of anyone even seeing a dogfight, unless it was the dogs' idea.

So I'm getting a little sick of ESPN Radio's Colin Cowherd and others insinuating or outright stating that dogfighting is a "Southern thing." I don't buy that. It's a sick thing. It's an idiot thing. And, allegedly, it's a Michael Vick thing.

It reminds me of the pre-Columbine days when every time there was a shooting at a school or business Down South, people on TV and radio were decrying "the Southern gun culture." Why didn't we hear the term "Northern gun culture" with all the shootings in Colorado, Washington, Pennsylvania, etc.?

I've met some pretty bad dudes here in the South. I've met some violent dudes, folks who wanted to beat up others for recreation. I've met folks who love to shoot guns and blow holes in animals, just for the sake of killing, not for sport. But even the baddest of the bad Southern dudes I've known loved their dogs ... sometimes more than the rest of their family. I've known people who've taken out paid obituaries in the newspaper for their dogs. And that's back home, where we don't think dogs belong in the house or should wear clothes ... and where, coincidentally I'm sure, the dogs act normal.

If anything, the real "Southern thing" may be the way folks Down South love their dogs.

I was a pretty big Mike Vick fan for his first few years in Atlanta and had high hopes for him. But after seeing his actions, his decision making and listening to him speak in interviews, I've got to conclude he's just stupid. And as comedian Ron White points out, "You can't fix stupid." You can't fix it Down South or Up North.

A transportation alternative

Are you sick of high gas prices? Of course you are, unless your name is Fred Mobil or Sam Citgo. I've got a local solution to at least cut down on using motorized vehicles in Columbus ... a lazy river. All we've got to do is build a 20-or-so-miles-long lazy river that winds its way through Columbus. Everyone grabs an inner tube and cruises to their destination at a leisurely 3 or 4 miles an hour. I'm sure the city will seize upon this idea, and when they do, since it was my idea, I'd really appreciate it if they'd have the lazy river run down the median of Broadway, so I can hop out right by the paper at 12th Street.

Granted, I'm not sure this plan will go over quite as well in winter. Then again, we can heat the water. And the lazy river may get a little rough as it tumbles over the Fall Line from the north side of Columbus where I live. And we may have to ban extremely unattractive people in skimpy swimsuits. But no transportation system is perfect. I also wouldn't mind a larger-scale lazy river that round-trips between Columbus and Atlanta -- we just might have to speed the river up a little. Then again, who's ever in a hurry to get to Atlanta?

It's just a thought. I'm sure you might have other ideas, but I'm sort of partial to lazy rivers, as you can read about in this coming Sunday's column.

Desperate for attention

When I was a kid, and Evel Knievel was a hero, I rather liked the idea of owning a motorcycle. I could picture myself cruising the highways of America, going where I wanted and answering to no one. I also pictured me sitting on top of a couple of books so I could reach the handlebars because I was about 9 years old the last time I had the urge.

But as I've gotten older, I've grown to prefer quieter and more peaceful pursuits. Bicycles over motorcycles. Kayaks over Jet Skis. Norah Jones over 2 Live Crew.

But, hey, to each his own ... or her own ... or its own. Unfortunately, a lot of folks who prefer loud over quiet like to thrust their preference upon you, especially with motorcycles these days. And Columbus is a motorcycle mecca. Most motorcyclists are decent folks, including friends and co-workers who might shove a kickstand in my eye if I said otherwise. But many others actually alter their bikes to make them louder, loud enough to rattle windows.

That's fine, too, but do that around the windows of your house on your 100 acres of private property so that it bothers no one else. In fact, save your 110-mph driving and wheelies for there instead of the J.R. Allen Parkway and my neighborhood ... even though it seems to be permitted behavior in this city. In 10 years, I've never seen a sincle motorcyclist pulled over. I guess they get the same free pass that cigarette butt litterers get.

But doing this stuff and rattling windows away from everyone is not what it's about, is it? It's about getting attention and rattling nerves. Like teens with booming car radios, you're desperate for attention. You're desperate to be noticed. Even my son has taken my lead and calls loud motorcycles "notice me bikes." These bikers should get bumper stickers that read "My mother didn't give me enough attention as a child; please give it to me now."

Consider yourself noticed by me, so please steer clear of me with your noise-cycles. I don't care if your mama didn't give you enough hugs as a child. But I do care about hearing myself think. It happens so rarely, I'd hate to miss it.