I was fortunate enough during my college years to have Billy Watson, then editor of the Macon Telegraph, as one of my professors. I took a 7am class on newspaper writing from him.
I'll never forget the day he brought in a book entitled All The News Not Fit To Print. It contained a compilation of "news" articles published over the years by various periodicals which weren't exactly...news.
Well, Billy, I think I found another one.
Forget the Japan earthquake and the tsunami. Bypass the economy and the uprisings in the Middle East. This is Real. News.
Apparently, in the middle Georgia town of Forsyth, an entire section of I-75 was shut down earlier this week. By the Wienermobile.
It was the wurst that could happen, but, on a slow news day this particular reporter must have exclaimed, "Hot Dog!"
Frankly I was surprised that Oscar Meyer (whose bologna has a first AND last name) wasn't in the vehicle at the time.
But I also have it on good authority that Oscar's really a big brat.
Anyway, don't miss the picture of one of Monroe County's finest pulling over the Wienermobile.
The driver was cited for impeding the flow of traffic, escorted to the dog pound, and the vehicle was inspected for further health violations. The officer was accused of fondling the vehicle's buns. The vehicle was impounded by Nu-Way Wieners in Macon and was found to be filled with top-quality meat and meat by-products, then topped with chili and slaw and served on a steamed bun.
Eat your heart out, Billy.
Faith, humor, sarcasm, and commentary on a myriad of subjects so that you have to pay really close attention to tell which is which. Apparently one of many blogs with this name but the only one with MY name too.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
RIP, Ronnie Hammond.
Ronnie Hammond, legendary lead singer for the Atlanta Rhythm Section, died Monday at age 60.
I first met Ronnie when I was Student Body President at Gordon Junior College in 1975. Well, not exactly.
I met him at Atlanta Recording Studio prior to that. ARS was recording a cover of "Spooky", I already knew Buddie Buie, his son, and J. R. Cobb, guitarist for the band, having done some studio work there.
Ronnie started off in Macon, singing on then-gospel-singer-later-turned Mayor "Machine-Gun" Ronnie Thompson's television show on WMAZ.
Man, was he good.
Rarely do you find a white boy with as much soul as Ronnie had. He put his heart into every song he sang, a result of a conflicted life at the time (resolved later on with the help of God and friends).
I had to beg and plead with the GJC administration to get them to schedule the band for a campus concert. Not many people had heard of them at that point, and they were a calculated risk for the school.
I called Mr. Buie, got Ronnie, who said they'd love to do the gig. We laughed later about how desperate ARS was for paid dates.
By the time the show came around weeks later, "Doraville" was racing up the charts, followed by "Angel" and "Who You Gonna Run To".
I looked like a genius. I wasn't. I just loved good Southern Rock. And ARS was one of the best.
Ronnie lived in Forsyth and died there Monday.
How fitting. The "homeplace" of Southern Rock sent off one of its favorite children.
Like Johnny Cash once sang, "everyone I know goes away in the end."
One of my favorite ARS songs (probably because I identify with it so well):
"Alien"
The sun just went behind a cloud again
Down crowded streets he walks alone
He's a stranger out of place
A number not a face
And all day long, all day long
He's feelin like an alien
Feelin' like he don't belong
Have mercy, cried the alien
Help him find his way back home
The feelin' that he feels he can't explain
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, they're all the same
He's lost and all alone
A heart without a home
Standin' like a statue in the rain
Now, now and then we all are aliens
Feelin' like we don't belong
Have mercy, cried the alien
Help him find his way back home
I first met Ronnie when I was Student Body President at Gordon Junior College in 1975. Well, not exactly.
I met him at Atlanta Recording Studio prior to that. ARS was recording a cover of "Spooky", I already knew Buddie Buie, his son, and J. R. Cobb, guitarist for the band, having done some studio work there.
Ronnie started off in Macon, singing on then-gospel-singer-later-turned Mayor "Machine-Gun" Ronnie Thompson's television show on WMAZ.
Man, was he good.
Rarely do you find a white boy with as much soul as Ronnie had. He put his heart into every song he sang, a result of a conflicted life at the time (resolved later on with the help of God and friends).
I had to beg and plead with the GJC administration to get them to schedule the band for a campus concert. Not many people had heard of them at that point, and they were a calculated risk for the school.
I called Mr. Buie, got Ronnie, who said they'd love to do the gig. We laughed later about how desperate ARS was for paid dates.
By the time the show came around weeks later, "Doraville" was racing up the charts, followed by "Angel" and "Who You Gonna Run To".
I looked like a genius. I wasn't. I just loved good Southern Rock. And ARS was one of the best.
Ronnie lived in Forsyth and died there Monday.
How fitting. The "homeplace" of Southern Rock sent off one of its favorite children.
Like Johnny Cash once sang, "everyone I know goes away in the end."
One of my favorite ARS songs (probably because I identify with it so well):
"Alien"
The sun just went behind a cloud again
Down crowded streets he walks alone
He's a stranger out of place
A number not a face
And all day long, all day long
He's feelin like an alien
Feelin' like he don't belong
Have mercy, cried the alien
Help him find his way back home
The feelin' that he feels he can't explain
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, they're all the same
He's lost and all alone
A heart without a home
Standin' like a statue in the rain
Now, now and then we all are aliens
Feelin' like we don't belong
Have mercy, cried the alien
Help him find his way back home
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