I heart Stephanie Miller. Ok, I said it. I hope it doesn't make my honey jealous.
Before I started listening to Steph (or Mamma as she calls herself), my mornings were the typical overeducated underemployed routine of listening to Morning Edition on NPR. I was even in the (gasp) camp of folks who liked the switch from Bob Edwards (snore, wait was I listening to the radio or was I asleep? snore) to Renee Montaigne and Steve Inskeep. I especially liked finding out the Renee was a fan of Dan Neil, my favorite writer at the L.A. Times. And that he was a fan of hers. Read Neil's car reviews. Really. They won a Pulitzer. They deserved it. And it made the NY Times get its collective panty in a wad, which was a nice side benefit.
Anyway, I listened dutifully to NPR in the mornings. Even though it sometimes made me remember going to see Ira Glass talk about This American Life and how he said that sometimes he just wasn't a big enough person to learn more about the dire situation in Eastern Europe. You can listen to NPR and feel informed and feel searingly depressed. And that's just Eastern Europe. We're not talking about Iraq or Darfour or ...
But then I discovered that Air America had an affiliate in L.A. I listened some, but it got me worked up and I found myself railing against Harriet Miers. At dinner. In polite company.
Still, Air America got a preset from me and one day while feeling slammed by NPR, I switched over and there was Steph. Being funny. And progressive. And playing clips from Sunset Boulevard: "Don't speak, don't speak..." And from Katherine Harris saying in her scary-ass breathy way that she would spend "ten million dollars" on her senate campaign. And remember that according to Steph, George W. Bush is the "ding" worst "ding" president "ding" ever! See. NPR isn't going to say that.
I'm sure lots of people know about her already. Fine, whatever.
I heart her.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Traveling Through
Honey and I are just back from a visit to my parents, which we also turned into our second viewing of stages of the Tour de Georgia. I appreciate that California went with "of" instead of "de" for its bike race. Georgia, being Georgia, couldn't. I grew up near a street in Atlanta called Ponce de Leon which was pronounced "ponts dee lee on" by all who knew it. Or just "ponts." So Tour Dee Georgia it is. Ponce is home, for what it's worth, to the last project Frederick Law Olmstead worked on. One of the Olmstead parks was the site of the only double date my brother and I ever went on. My boyfriend at the time was impressed by how smooth my younger brother was. But then, that boyfriend turned out to be gay. Of course so did I. I don't think it had anything to do with the date, though, or the Omstead park, or the Southern pronunciation of a Spanish explorer's name. Whatever.
Anyway, the bike race was cool. My favorite day was our day in Chickamagua (Walker County, though not the county seat) where we watched the beginning of the time trial. The woman dressed up in the "confederate widow tells all" outfit talking on her cell phone after the pretty bicycles and their pretty riders had launched was the TDG at its core.
One of my favorite tidbits about my home state is that each county in the state was not allowed to be farther than one day's horseback ride (round trip) from its farthest corner to its county seat. There is no actual law to that effect (though I was taught differently in 8th grade Georgia history). There are currently 159 counties in Georgia and that is the maximum there can be according to the state constitutional amendment in 1945. (The high was 161, but two of them were absorbed into Fulton--county seat=Atlanta--during the depression). I grew up in DeKalb (county seat=Decatur and pronounced deekab).
The biggest county by population is Fulton, the smallest Taliaferro. (816,006 to 2077). The largest by area is Ware and the smallest is Clarke. In case you're wondering, Taliaferro is in the top third of the state and toward the east. The county seat is Crawfordville and the county is pronounced "Toliver." See. Ware County is in far southern Georgia and Waycross is the county seat. A good chuck of the Okeefanokee swamp is in Ware county Clarke county is where Athens and the University of Georgia are.
One day we spent in Lumpkin County and stood next to some people who didn't know how to pronounce its county seat. It's Duh lon ee gah.
My dad can name over 100 of the 159 counties. And he's from Alabama.
My parents are building a house in Gilmer County (county seat=Ellijay). Their house is near Cartecay. Which sounds like something "Nell" would say in that stupid Jodie Foster movie. Which made Honey and I start doing our Jodie Foster/Nell impression while driving through Gilmer County.
My dad and I tried to get a map of adjacent Fannin County (county seat=Blue Ridge) in October. The guy at the gas station looked at him and said, "there ain't no maps of Fannin County." We found one at the next gas station. What he meant was, "there ain't no maps of Fannin County for men from Fulton county driving Mercedes and wearing Joseph Banks clothing."
My parents want us to leave us the Gilmer County house when they die. It's in a beautiful valley overlooking the Blue Ridge mountains. Honey thinks we could be survivalists there in Cartecay. I'm reserving judgment. It is on Tickenetly Road.
I am disappointed to learn that Webster County (county seat=Preston, in the lower third of the state toward the west) was renamed Kinchafoonee.
One night we stayed in Gainesville (Hall County seat) and went to a restaurant that was using our meals to create its web site. Before we were served things, they got photographed. No one said a word about it. They'd just bring the food out and take a picture of it. The photographer guy kept licking his fingers. Honey was clever and ordered her salad without walnuts and it didn't get its picture taken.
I'll write more about the trip, but I hope you've enjoyed your Georgia county entry.
I like the Dolly Parton song from Transamerica:
Well I can't tell you where I'm going, I'm not sure of where I've been
But I know I must keep travelin' till my road comes to an end
I'm out here on my journey, trying to make the most of it
I'm a puzzle, I must figure out where all my pieces fit
Like a poor wayfaring stranger that they speak about in song
I'm just a weary pilgrim trying to find what feels like home
My mother often asks when I'll move back to Georgia. No time soon, if ever, but looking out from that view in Gilmer County, I know what I miss.
Anyway, the bike race was cool. My favorite day was our day in Chickamagua (Walker County, though not the county seat) where we watched the beginning of the time trial. The woman dressed up in the "confederate widow tells all" outfit talking on her cell phone after the pretty bicycles and their pretty riders had launched was the TDG at its core.
One of my favorite tidbits about my home state is that each county in the state was not allowed to be farther than one day's horseback ride (round trip) from its farthest corner to its county seat. There is no actual law to that effect (though I was taught differently in 8th grade Georgia history). There are currently 159 counties in Georgia and that is the maximum there can be according to the state constitutional amendment in 1945. (The high was 161, but two of them were absorbed into Fulton--county seat=Atlanta--during the depression). I grew up in DeKalb (county seat=Decatur and pronounced deekab).
The biggest county by population is Fulton, the smallest Taliaferro. (816,006 to 2077). The largest by area is Ware and the smallest is Clarke. In case you're wondering, Taliaferro is in the top third of the state and toward the east. The county seat is Crawfordville and the county is pronounced "Toliver." See. Ware County is in far southern Georgia and Waycross is the county seat. A good chuck of the Okeefanokee swamp is in Ware county Clarke county is where Athens and the University of Georgia are.
One day we spent in Lumpkin County and stood next to some people who didn't know how to pronounce its county seat. It's Duh lon ee gah.
My dad can name over 100 of the 159 counties. And he's from Alabama.
My parents are building a house in Gilmer County (county seat=Ellijay). Their house is near Cartecay. Which sounds like something "Nell" would say in that stupid Jodie Foster movie. Which made Honey and I start doing our Jodie Foster/Nell impression while driving through Gilmer County.
My dad and I tried to get a map of adjacent Fannin County (county seat=Blue Ridge) in October. The guy at the gas station looked at him and said, "there ain't no maps of Fannin County." We found one at the next gas station. What he meant was, "there ain't no maps of Fannin County for men from Fulton county driving Mercedes and wearing Joseph Banks clothing."
My parents want us to leave us the Gilmer County house when they die. It's in a beautiful valley overlooking the Blue Ridge mountains. Honey thinks we could be survivalists there in Cartecay. I'm reserving judgment. It is on Tickenetly Road.
I am disappointed to learn that Webster County (county seat=Preston, in the lower third of the state toward the west) was renamed Kinchafoonee.
One night we stayed in Gainesville (Hall County seat) and went to a restaurant that was using our meals to create its web site. Before we were served things, they got photographed. No one said a word about it. They'd just bring the food out and take a picture of it. The photographer guy kept licking his fingers. Honey was clever and ordered her salad without walnuts and it didn't get its picture taken.
I'll write more about the trip, but I hope you've enjoyed your Georgia county entry.
I like the Dolly Parton song from Transamerica:
Well I can't tell you where I'm going, I'm not sure of where I've been
But I know I must keep travelin' till my road comes to an end
I'm out here on my journey, trying to make the most of it
I'm a puzzle, I must figure out where all my pieces fit
Like a poor wayfaring stranger that they speak about in song
I'm just a weary pilgrim trying to find what feels like home
My mother often asks when I'll move back to Georgia. No time soon, if ever, but looking out from that view in Gilmer County, I know what I miss.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Devil ducks
My Honey and I split a six pack of teeny devil ducks some time ago. This weekend, I bought them a very large companion devil duck. He is black with orange horns, tail, and beak. I bought him at Rhino records in Claremont.
Claremont is far from where I live, but I really like it. Its downtown is a few blocks of cute, but not precious, stores including two places with really good hamburgers, one with really good ice cream, and Rhino. This Rhino isn't closing, unlike its cousin the Westwood Rhino.
I think of the entire Inland Empire as a drive through on the way to something, but I like Pomona and Claremont and see why people want to live there. The Claremont colleges are all so collegey and people actually wished me Happy Easter as I purchased things. I mean people with record store attitude. Wishing me Happy Easter. While I'm standing there with a large devil duck.
Claremont is far from where I live, but I really like it. Its downtown is a few blocks of cute, but not precious, stores including two places with really good hamburgers, one with really good ice cream, and Rhino. This Rhino isn't closing, unlike its cousin the Westwood Rhino.
I think of the entire Inland Empire as a drive through on the way to something, but I like Pomona and Claremont and see why people want to live there. The Claremont colleges are all so collegey and people actually wished me Happy Easter as I purchased things. I mean people with record store attitude. Wishing me Happy Easter. While I'm standing there with a large devil duck.
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