Trolley Tour Friday

It is really hard to beat Trolley Tour Friday. Mikey always hosts a front porch party and the gang gets together.

It is a laid back atmosphere. Laid back parties are always the best in my opinion. The discussions will run the gamut as always. People watching and the corn hole game will entertain.

Drinks and food will flow freely.

My contribution this evening?

Crab/Shrimp Gazpacho, Crab dip in a sourdough bread bowl, and Tiramisu.

Why?

Because I cook to relax, I enjoy watching people try something they've never had realizing they've just had something they want again. Food making prople happy makes me happy. With all the shit that goes along with living life, a happy moment makes it all worthwhile.

Yesterday I had a couple of happy moments. First off my friend Rachel needed some help. This woman is amazing. She has spent many years helping others. When we first met, she had just returned from Africa having worked with the Peace Corps for a little over two years. I was visiting a friend working at a restaurant when she came in. She had me from, "Hello". She's a beautiful woman and then I found out she has an even more beautiful soul. Rare for me, I probably only said 20 words. Her stories were mesmerizing. We became immediate friends. Cut to the day before yesterday, she calls me. Like so many other good people she got laid off from her job. She toughed it out as long as she could. She needed some financial assistance. It was well within my capability to do so. Two days ago she was stressed to the hilt. By yesterday afternoon all was right in her world.

Beautiful people who do beautiful and selfless things rate high in my book. I was glad to help her. I'll be seeing her next month after I return from tearing down the barn. If she's still unemployed its going to be a Mike and Rachel roadtrip. Gotta love a girl who travels well.

The other happy moment was me doing something for me. I've played guitar for over thirty years. Am I great? Nah. I've played in many bands, sat in with some really great guitar players, and written and recorded original material. Yet I buy equipment sparingly. I'm not a thing person. I was out running errands. I saw Consignment Music store coming up ahead and thought, "What the Hell. Let's stop in and see what they have.". Besides their own inventory they do consignment sales. There's always something interesting in the store. I walk in and spy an old Fender amp. I had it pegged as a mid 70's model. I was right. I ask to borrow a guitar and fire up the old tube amp.

It fucking ROCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the movie "Spinal Tap" when Nigel says, "This one goes to 11.", this one goes to 13. It is the hottest Fender Twin Reverb I've ever played on. The guy who owns the store put in all new, really bad ass tubes. Its like dropping a jet engine in a Ferrari.

Tubes?

Yeah, tubes. Tube amps are the only way to go.

Its as heavy as a mother fucker, but its all mine. Thank God its on wheels.

My apologies to the neighbors.




I've suffered for my music, now its your turn.

In the meantime, Trolley Tour Friday, food, fun, and friends.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

It's The Small Things In Life

Well I must say that I certainly took a lot of photos on the roadtrip.

I'm still trying to organize them.

Trying to top "FUMOT Monday" is going to be close to impossible.

A friend saw the post and emailed me, "Maybe you should rework the words to the Bangles "Manic Monday" and attach it as FUMOT Monday's theme song.".

I laughed it off, but the damn song has been stuck in my head since.

Maybe after I get back from South Jersey I'll get a new digital recording deck and do that.

In the meantime I was going through my road trip photos.

One night my oldest brother Kev and I decided to hang out for a few beers, some family small talk, and shoot some stick.

He suggested we go to a place called "The Turnpike Inn". We've been there thousands of times since we were in our late teens.

Seriously. Back in our day, 18 years old was the age at which one could step into a bar and order a drink.

I hadn't been there since my last trip home a few years ago. Sounded like fun. We always went there to play the "World Championship of Bar Pool (So Far As We Know)." When we started this back some thirty years ago, I insisted we add the last part. There could have been a REAL World Championship of Bar Pool somewhere out there and I didn't want us to get sued for infringement.

We're riding there and Kev informs me, "Russ sold the place. The new owner has made some changes. Just thought I'd better warn you.".

My mind started racing. "Changes???? In the Turnpike Inn? What the Hell could they change in that place?". The Turnpike Inn has always been a dive. The kind that gives *dives* a good name. Cold, cheap beer. Chips, jerky, pickled eggs, pickled hot sausage, and pretzels the only food served there. Old beat up wooden floors that could use some love, but they're fine the way they are. Dinged and cigarette burnt wodden bar top.

The place was a perfect 10 as far as dives go.

We walked in. I was horrified. A shiny white formica top was covering the bar. Black and white tiles covered the floor. The requisite snacks were blessedly still where they always were. The shuffle bowl machine was long gone, replaced by a jukebox connected to the web so you could play shit music that should NEVER be played in a dive.

I swear to God, if someone had played a Michael Jackson song on the thing I would have smahed it with a pool cue.

Kev just looked at me and said, "See, I told you.".

I started to take pictures of the changes, but stopped. I wanted to remember the Turnpike Inn the way it was for the first 30 years of my attendance. I sat down at the bar, slighty annoyed and dejected.

They'd killed it. Another memory dashed on the rocks. Kev and I sat there quietly for a few minutes and drank our beer.

A moment of silence was in order.

Kev got up to go to the bathroom. I got up to rack the pool balls for "Game 1 of the World Championship of Bar Pool(So Far As We Know)". Then something caught my eye. I did a double take. I started laughing out loud. Kev asked me what was so funny. I pointed to the bathroom door for the women's restroom.



Kev starts laughing and says, "You've got to be shitting me.". I walked over to the owner/bartender and tried to explain the error to him. After talking to the him, I was pretty sure the concept of "plural possessive" was lost on him.

It didn't matter. I really needed the laugh.

Besides, in a dive, fucked up grammar is a sign that things will still be okay.

Another sign that things will still be okay:



Fifty cent pool tables.

We pay a buck and a quarter per game at the Sunday Funday Saucer Pool Tournament.

After a half dozen ice cold pints of cheap beer and three games of pool the shock was finally wearing off. The floor didn't look too bad. The bar top was clean. Somebody went to the jukebox and played Jonny Cash's "Burning Ring of Fire".

Everything was right in the world again.

Another dive survived progress.

I'll be back there in a few weeks or so.

Kev won the "World Championship of Bar Pool (So Far As We Know)" crown.

I'm determined to get it back in no more than eight bits.

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Air Traffic Mike, ret.

FUMOT Monday

I'm borrowing a category from the "Window Game" and starting FUMOT Monday. I'm not sure of the origin of the window game but I'm pretty sure it was Paully or Mikey that came up with it.

So what's a FUMOT?

"Fucked Up Mode Of Transportation".

FUMOT is based on a number of factors. Sometimes it can be too much money spent on shining the turd. A $1,000 car with $2,500 worth of tires and $3,000 worth of paint makes it just about every time. Sometimes its just because none of the fenders or bumper covers match the original paint.

Riding on more than ONE space saver spare? You're in.

Got more than one source of damage to your ride? You're in.

Do you have more than a dozen "Little Green Tree" air fresheners hanging off your mirror? You're a good candidate.

We passed THIS thing a couple of weeks ago having just left the Majestic Grille for the Flying Saucer.

Tacky advertising on a van?

Congratulations. You're my first FUMOT Monday winner.

I'm sure Detroit is proud of you.

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Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Pope VinnyLXIX Answers Mail!

"Okay you Mudda Fucka's, Air Traffic Mike has da fockin' day off. Usually Sunday is my fockin' day off, but hey, da guy's been bustin' his hump the last coupla months, so its me t'day, capiche?"

"T'day I decided that I'm finally gonna answer some readers mail."

"Dear Pope VinnyLXIX,
I'm having trouble with my faith of late. I find almost any excuse not to go to Mass. Does this make me a bad Catholic?"

Signed,
Sleepy on Sunday



"No, dat makes you a Baptist. Here's what you need to do to make it right. Send me cash. God likes cash and shiny tings. You tithe, we pray for your soul. Send in lots of cash, and I grease St. Peter's palm, capiche?"

"Dear Pope VinnyLXIX,
My wife refuses to go to Mass with me. No matter how often I plead with her, she just refuses. What should I do?"

Signed,
Devout Downtowner



"Dis is unfuckingacceptable. The problem seems ta be dat you're not giving enough money on Sundays. Girls like cash and shiny tings. Before ya come ta Choich, flash da cash at her and tell her, "There's more where that came from." Dat oughta take care of her Pagan ass. In da meantime, just send in lots of extra cash ta me and I'll poysonally pray for her, capiche?"

"Dear Pope VinnyLXIX,
I think you're a fraud. The real Pope lives in the Vatican. What do you have to say about that?

Signed,
Cocky in Cordova



"I deal with you *non-believers* all da fuckin' time. You ain't gotta believe. You ain't gotta believe at all. You ain't GOTTA believe right up to da point where Guido stops by and BREAKS YOUR FOCKIN' KNEES. In da meantime, I'll say my speshul "Prayer For the Unfaithful":

*makes the Sign of the Cross*
In da name of Foddah,
Da Son,
and da Holy Udder Guy,
Amen

FUCK YOU

Amen

I hope dat brings some comfort to your Muddah Fockin' soul you worthless piece of shit."



"Okay, dat's all I feel like woikin' t'day. Sunday is God's day of rest. If he can have da day off, so can I, capiche?

Remember, you gots a spiritual need, send me cash and I'll hook ya up wit da BIG guy.

'Til next time, have a fockin' good day, capiche?"

Pope VinnyLXIX

Farmers Market

Just a quick shout out to the Memphis Farmers Market.


http://www.memphisfarmersmarket.com/

Note: The above image was taken last Fall. If folks were dressed dthis way this morning, most would be dead of heat exhaustion by now.

I love this event every Saturday. Fresh produce and organic meats just can't be a bad thing.

This morning's haul?

-Four really nice veal shanks for osso bucco.

-Freshly baked ciabatta, and a tomato bread.

-1.5 pounds of goat milk feta cheese

-four obviously fresh local grown cucumbers(shipping wax on store bought shit blows).

-five pounds of fresh local grown tomatoes

-local grown white onions

-local grown bell and jalapeno peppers

-heirloom garlic

-fresh green beans

What's it all add up to? I spent $30.00 to make osso bucco, gazpacho, lightly blanched and sauteed green beans, with some crusty bread.

All local, all fresh.

Seriously, does it really get any better than that?

Have a great weekend.

Pope Vinny takes the helm tomorrow.



I do?

Yeah Vinny, you're up?



Why da fuck can't I just interview the Mayor?

You had your chance.



Guido bombed wit dat guy.

Anyone would have. Regardless, he's gone. You're up tomorrow. Be ready, capiche?



Capiche.

Thanks Vin, you're the best.



Fuhgeddabouddit.

Y'all take care.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

How August and September Are Shaping Up

I'm giving the boys from AIR TRAFFIC MIKE HEAVY INDUSTRIES, LLC. (the official social think tank of Air Traffic Mike) the day off.

Look for Pope VinnyLXIX over the weekend.

Only Pope I've ever known of who has Sunday as a day off.

Anyway, since I'm still under the weather, I took the opportunity to organize my next couple of months. I'm a long range planner like that.

I'll be leaving for the northeast sometime the first week of August. I'm going to stop in and check on my brother to see how he's doing with his chemo treatments. Just for a couple days, unless things aren't going well. Time will tell.

As previously mentioned the main plan is to get up to South Jersey to help tear down this barn:



Another picture:



For the record, both pictures were taken in 2005. The first from March when we put in five 200 foot rows of Cabernet Franc and Merlot grapes, the second later in the Summer.

Just to put it into perspective, the door is actually on the second floor. There's a full dairy set up in the basement floor that opens on to a pasture area. The bottom of the roofline corresponds with the main upper braces. In 2003 we needed thres stories of scaffolding on that second floor to reach the upper braces. We installed mercury vapor lighting inside that year in a blizzard.

Over the years Pat and I put a lot of hours into that building. It was worth it. It was built (finally got the actual year of construction) in 1860. Built in the "post and beam" style of construction, it withstood many a storm and years of neglect by the time Pat and his family acquired the property.

Now, sadly, it has to come down.

It should only take about two weeks to salvage wood safely, drop it, and clean it up.

With a return trip via Virginia to check on the older brother unit, I should be back in town just before Labor Day.

Amazing. The Summer of 2009 will be over. My committment to my brother will be my only obligation other than living my life.

So what's a boy to do with September?

I've tossed around the idea of taking my oficial retirement trip. The West Coast would be nice. Two weeks in San Francisco and the wine valleys is always a nice break. Los Angeles would be a cool week trip in conjunction with a San Diego trip for a week. I've looked over train scedules with a sleeper car for a two week jaunt. After some discussion, I've thrown the idea of taking a cruise to the curb.

Too many options. So I made a command decision at least for one week. Two days in New Orleans, five days in Grand Isle to fish and relax on the beach, two days in New Orleans, and home. Sure Grand Isle isn't what most would call "exciting", but it has peace, surf, and fishing. They are in the process of recovering from Hurricane Katrina and those that followed. It is obvious that they've come a long way. My favorite fishing camp/marina/motel Bridgeside Cabins and Marina is back in fine shape. Besides, like I've always said about fish, "It doesn't get any fresher than *It was just swimming 30 minutes ago.*"

New Orleans just happens to be on the way. Party weekend going in, party weekend coming out. Seems like a plan.

After that I'm just planning on being here. Tiger football game? Sure, its my day off. Day trip to Tunica? Hey, why not. I've got projects here to do. A backsplash for the kitchen. Get the bathroom redone (promise, not "Buttcrack Plumber Mike" shots).

Its going to be a lay low weekend in the meantime. I'm enjoying my home cooking. I'm enjoying being on a regular sleep schedule (mostly regular) even more.

Pope Vinny will be handling part of the weekend edition.

God knows what the fuck he's going to come out with.

Have a nice weekend.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

BREAKING NEWS: Mayor of Memphis Gives Exclusive Interview!!!!

My God. The breaks in life I always seem to catch.

It seems the Mayor is having trouble deciding whether he's going to resign or not.

Most men of honor would be gracious in their last days. Maybe take the time to do a farewell tour to cement a lasting honorable legacy.

But not our Mayor. He's tossing verbal grenades as he leaves.

Crackheads have an easier time keeping straight what they said and sticking to their word than this guy of late.

Still, it is an honor here at AIR TRAFFIC MIKE HEAVY INDUSTRIES, LLC. (the official social think tank of Air traffic Mike) to have the Mayor stop by and grant us an interview.

Okay guys, who wants to interview the Mayor?

*crickets begin chirping*

No, seriously guys, who wants to interview the Mayor?

*door starts creaking*

Am I going to have to draw names from a hat?

*fingers tapping*

Okay, fine.

*reaches into the personnel folder*

Guido the Snitch, front and center!



"Aw comonna Boss! I no lika da guy. E's a bum!"

Guido, where in your contract does it say you have to like what your doing?



"Butta Boss, I might peesa heem offa. Whatta goood datta do, eh?"

Guido I think he's already pissed off. I doubt you can do any harm there.



"Hokay Boss. I doa da job, but I warna you. I keepa mah eye ona heem."

That's the spirit Guido.

Oh, good afternoon Mr. Mayor.



"Who you calling black???!!!"

Um, Mr. Mayor, I hardly think that a "Good Afternoon" meets the standard of racism.



"That's just some of that East Memphis Devil double talk!!!!!"

Have you been eating lunch at the casinos with Janis Fullilove or something?



"Don't you say SHIT about Janis! She's the only white person I can stand."

Okay, this is going nowhere.

Guido, he's all yours.



"'Allo Meester Mayor. Whadda makayu wanna resigna da seat, eh?"



"Who you calling black??????!!!!."



"Donna you trya dat booooooolsheeta wit me. Guido eessa no racist."



"Who you tryin' ta be fool, Steve Cohen?."



"You can sucka mah "Steve Cohen" righta here! Ansa da questy, eh?"



"See, you racist. You playin' the Jew card."



"You saya that wonna more time I slappa da foo oudda ya haid, capiche?"



"Where the fuck is Mike Matthews when I need his no coat wearing ass?"



"Wonna more time, ansa da fockin' questy."



"Who ever said I was running for Congress?"



"You deed."



"That's a lie propagated by my enemies and Myron Lowery!"



"Denn wadda boudda da shirt you wearing? You "Keepeet A Reala"?"



"Shirts lie! Shirts are out to get me too!!!!! Racist mutha fuckers."



"So whya yu teenk dat everwonn ees oudda to gets you, eh?"



"'Cause I was ordained by God to be the Mayor. Its the Devil tryin' ta take me down."



"So everboddy ees the Debil, eh?"



"'Specially those guys from the F fuckin' B I!!!!."



"Dey trompa da charges uppa, eh?"



"They trumpin' up charges as we speak."



"So howa do being a Congressaman helpa you?"



"Congessmen gots power. I'll be safe there in D.C."



"Deee Ceeeee?"



"Yeah, you know, "Da Capital!"."



"You talka dis plan over weeetha John Ford?"



"Aw shit! I forgot about him and the FBI. I'm fucked."



"Dassa da firsa honessa teeng you say to Guido."



"There you go with that racist shit again!!!!! I'm outta here to go "Keep It Real"!!!!"



"You go run. I keepa mah eye onna you."

*SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Wow Guido, that went well.



"Bossa you owe Guido beeeeeeeg!"

You're right Guido. Tell you what, take the rest of the day off. See you tomorrow.

*SLAM*

Well there you have it. Mayor or Congress, it seems the most important thing for him to do is keep on running.

Let's see if he gets two years or maybe time served.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.