Currently Watching 24 - Season Five (Slim-Pack) By Kiefer Sutherland, Roger R. Cross, Reiko Aylesworth, Carlos Bernard, Dennis Haysbert see related

Read That On My Blog

I’ve never been considered a typical anything.

In a lot of areas I’m pretty much a maverick. However, I’ll soon be the face of how gas prices have hit many middle Tennessee commuters.

A friend of mine who works for a Nashville TV station called me up a couple of weeks ago. I was telling him about how gas prices have really turned my hour-long commute into an expensive prospect.

“Hey, you need to tell me this on camera,” he said. “You’d be perfect for this series I’m working on.”

My first instinct was to say no. I’ve been interviewed on TV dozens of times, but I prefer getting others to do it and coaching them. However, this guy had done a tremendous favor for me just a few weeks earlier, I couldn’t tell him no.

Call me superstitious, but nothing good ever seems to come out of me being on TV. It seems I always get calls and comments that I really don’t need to hear.

“Wow man, you have aged,” is one typical comment.

My response: Three kids, two wars and a high-maintenance wife will do it to every time.

“What happened to your hair?”

See response No. 1.

When did you leave the newspaper?

My response No 3: “Like, 15 years ago.”

Four years ago after being on TV, an old girlfriend called me whom I hadn’t seen in nearly 15 years. I agreed to have lunch with her and she has pestered me ever since.

Despite my reservations, I did the interview. I talked about the steps I’d taken since my commuting expenses have basically doubled since returning to work from Iraq in December 2006.

It was mostly common sense stuff, and it wasn’t too much rocket science. I doubt very few others are doing a whole different than I am as we’re all trying to cope with nearly $4-a-gallon gas prices.

The interview was conducted in front of my SUV. I felt kind of awkward knowing that a lot of folks will see me and say, “Why the heck don’t he get him a Honda ‘er something that burns a bit less gas?”

Then, the crew followed me to the gas station a mile from work where I fill up. I’ve also had my car fixed there before so I asked the manager and he said it was OK.

I made it through the experience without spilling gas on myself. It also gave me a good excuse to clean up my car, and I even found a couple of CDs I’ve been looking for in recent months.

The whole process took about 30 minutes. It’s supposed to be airing this month.

I felt pretty good about how the interviews went, and I trust the reporter who did the story. Of course, you never know until you see yourself on TV how it turned out so we’ll see.

I have really tried hard not to let the current fuel prices adversely impact my life. Sure, I’ve made adjustments, but not I’m going crazy.

A former coworker at the newspaper I just mentioned lost his life a couple of weeks. He had a commute half the distance of mine and he decided to ditch his pickup truck for a motorcycle. He died on the way back home after getting the bike licensed. He was inexperienced motorcyclist and took a curve too hard. His motorcycle slid into the path of an oncoming car and was that was all he wrote.

The other day, I was buzzing down the interstate and saw traffic ahead was bunching up. As I passed the slow driver, I saw it was an older lady driving 60 miles an hour with all of her windows rolled down.

I shook my head. I’m not that desperate yet.

I am trying to be optimistic here. Gas prices have stabilized in recent weeks, and I still hope they will go down at some point. A lot depends on what we do in November, but I’m hopeful there too.

That’s one issue I won’t be talking about on TV, though. You’ll have to read that on my blog.

Currently Watching National Lampoon's Animal House (Widescreen Double Secret Probation Edition) By John Belushi, Tim Matheson, John Vernon, Verna Bloom, Tom Hulce see related

All The Trimmings

A Dad tries to teach his children many things.

There’s lessons they need to know to help them through this life and in the next. It’s a parent’s responsibility to ensure they know what’s going on so they can be well grounded in truth and are not sucked into all the deception going on around them.

I teach them that all the trimmings of Christmas are nice. Santa Claus, Rudolph and the other holiday characters are nice, but Christmas is about Jesus.

The Easter bunny is cute and it’s always nice to welcome another spring season. However, Easter celebrates Christ’s resurrection and the hope we have because of that event.

Then, there’s the 4^th of July. It’s a great holiday. I love the fireworks, picnics and all the patriotic expressions. It’s just important to remember that it’s not just another birthday.

I remind my kids that it is a holiday that has been paid for our by countless sacrifices by Americans who have been here before us. We are free and can celebrate this freedom because of God’s blessings and the willingness of others to do what was needed to secure our liberties.

I will always remember my mother telling me how blessed we all were to be Americans. She told me I could have been born anywhere on the world, but God, in His infinite mercy, let us all be born and raised in the greatest country on earth.

I’ve talked to my kids about a lot of episodes from history in recent days. We’ve talked about the nation’s 232-year time.

Can you just imagine what those farmers, blacksmiths and storekeepers must have thought in 1775 on Concord Hill when they stared down their muskets and saw the world’s greatest Army marching deliberately toward them? I can imagine sweat was pouring down their brows as they fought off the urge to just throw down their arms and run. Yet, they fired shots that were heard around the world and opened an eight-year that would eventually form a new nation.

Can you feel the bitter cold at Valley Forge during that long winter? These men were freezing, they were starving and they lacked adequate clothing and shelter. Yet, they hung around there inspired by the sight of their commanding general, George Washington kneeling to pray in the snow.

Can you feel the fear Union soldiers must have felt as they scrambled to climb over the bodies of their fallen comrades to cross a narrow bridge over Antietam Creek in Maryland on that fateful day in 1862? I’ve stood there and imagined trying to charge up that hill while all around you bullets flew and your fellow soldiers dropped. I don’t know if I could muster that kind of courage myself.

Can you contemplate what those soldiers must have felt on D-Day, June 6, 1944, while they headed toward Normandy Beach? Strategists estimated that between 50-70 percent would be killed attempting this amphibious landing to begin the allied invasion of Nazi-occupied France. These men knew the price they might have to pay, but they took a deep breath and dove into that cold water while Germans sprayed them with deadly machine gun fire.

We’ve also talked about the people who are not here with us now. Not those who are dead and departed, but the hundreds of families in our community who have loved ones serving in Iraq, Afghanistan or Kuwait. There will be an empty chair at many dinner tables or an empty spot at picnic tables too.

On the other side of the world, many of these soldiers will be scrambling to get to a phone or get online just to drop their loved ones a greeting. It won’t make up for their absence, but it will show them that they are missed.

I’ve missed four Independence Day holidays with my family. I remember them all well.

I spent 1985 in Germany; 1996 in Bulgaria; 1999 in Bosnia; and 2006 in Iraq. I reflect on those times when I was missing my home and my family, but I was proud of my service to our great nation.

I'll never forget a young Bulgarian soldier coming up to me in Trun on a hot afternoon. "Happy Independence Day," he said in broken English. I've never had a more treasured 4th of July greeting.

I hope everybody has a wonderful 4^th of July and enjoys the long weekend to its fullest. I will.

Just think about those who have given us all a holiday to celebrate. Be safe too.

Currently Watching Schoolhouse Rock! (Special 30th Anniversary Edition) By Schoolhouse Rock see related

Living In A Showcase

I have to admit there were several nights last week when I didn’t want to go home after work.

I would have jumped at the chance to go out of town or do something late in Nashville. I even thought of going to visit my Mom and Dad and spending the night.

It’s not like it sounds. Most nights, I still rush home to my family with eager anticipation.

The weekend before last, I spent hauling furniture around the house and putting even more stuff in storage. Our new realtor gave us some “homework” -- changes she wanted made to the house’s appearance -- before we put it back on the market.

I was less than thrilled. Not only did it piss away most of my weekend, but it seems every night last week I came to more “homework assignments” do to.

As most of you know, we had our house on the market for nine months before not renewing our contract. It was a hard choice because our former realtor was a fellow church member and a nice lady. She just didn’t get the job done.

I don’t blame her entirely. The market is tight, but we have a good home, in a decent neighborhood and it was at a good price. It should have sold.

I love this house, but we need to move. The coming of our third child two years ago made it entirely too small for us. However, we are stuck here until we can sell this place as we can’t afford to pay two mortgages for long.

It’s just hard living in a showcase. Many mornings I wake up and have to hunt for my razor and toothbrush. I never know where they were stashed in the dash to clear everything off when we get a call that somebody is coming over in an hour.

As I began this blog, the phone rang again. We had one hour to pack up and get out because somebody was coming over.

I thought we did a pretty good job getting out the door on time. However, my wife had nothing but complaints about the house’s appearance when she came home for lunch.

I understand the importance of having the house clean and neat when prospective buyers come over it. Got it, but we still live here for now. I believe most everybody could understand that.

Heck, our house looks better than a few of the empty houses we have toured in recent months. I just can’t see a prospective buyer seeing a towel on the rack and saying, “Oh my God, I don’t want to buy this place!”

Frankly, we had the house priced too high during its previous tenure on the market. We’ve cut the price some, and I’m hoping that will push us over the finish line.

Our new realtor is a real go-getter. She seems to have a solid organization backing her, and is much more online savvy with her online advertising than our previous realtor was for us.

I’m trying to play nice, but my patience is very limited. I’ve told my wife we’re going to try it again for a few months and then just buckle down and be a close family for a while.

I need my weekends. I need my time during the weeknights. I need a home where I can go to relax.

The promise of a newer, bigger home that is closer to my job is worth the fuss for a while. However, I’m not a patient man. I’m hoping this new realtor is as great as everybody says she is.

I did get to see the light at the end of the tunnel on Sunday, though. We went out and looked at a few houses. I found a nice one in our price range that had five bedrooms.

I just imagined everybody with his or her own bedroom. The master bedroom even has its own private porch.

My wife didn’t like the color of the wood interior and the fact you can hear the Interstate from the porch. I told her we could stain the wood and she would get used to the passing cars before too long.

I don’t know if this is the house for us, but it has possibilities. Once we become strictly buyers, there are a lot of good buys on the market locally.

It’s not the perfect house in the perfect location, but it is a reminder of what’s on the other side. I’ll just be so glad to reach that destination.

It will be nice to finally be home. There are days when I was more comfortable in Iraq.

Currently Watching The Fugitive By Harrison Ford, Tommy Lee Jones, Sela Ward, Julianne Moore, Joe Pantoliano see related

Walking Around Looking at Cars

I had checked the event’s website earlier, but I still had no idea what to expect.

Here I was 46 years old and headed to my first car show. I have to say that I enjoyed it, but not for the obvious reasons.

You see I’m not your typical stereotypical southerner. I don’t care for NASCAR, NHRA or any other motor sports. A car to me is an object I use to get from Point A to Point B.

I can change a flat tire. I can lift up the hood and put air in my tires. Everything else goes to our mechanic or to Jiffy Lube. (Although I am considering switching to Valvoline after Jiffy Lube said they could do a job for me and then failed.)

When one of the radio stations we worked with offered me free tickets to the car show, I figured it might be a cheap father-son activity the Little Guy and me could do together. I don’t know where he got it from, but he just loves cars and will sit around watch car races all day long if you let him.

I got enough tickets to invite my younger brother and nephew to join us. We don’t ever see them nearly enough and I believed it would be a good event to get together at especially since my wife has been driving me crazy about getting our house ready to go back on the market. (Read tomorrow’s blog.)

My youngest daughter didn’t sleep well Friday night so neither did I. I got up and got going a bit later than I wanted to, and we left the house about 15 minutes later than I had planned. However, the traffic was moving well and we got to our rendezvous point just a few minutes late.

Luckily, there was still plenty of parking to be found in front of Nashville’s LP Field, home of the Tennessee Titans and site for the car show. We got fairly close to the gate, and only paid $5 to park.

The tickets got us all in pretty quickly. I was surprised to learn they were $17 each. I thought it was kind of steep, but my brother assured me this was a quality car show and the price was good. It was even better for us.

There we were with rows and rows of classic cars in front of us. Off to the side in front of the stadium were various vendors. My brother said this would be the best part of the show to see what “free stuff” we could come up with here.

Sometimes, you could find parts and merchandise for a pretty good price too. A quick look around led him to believe there were not many bargains to be had on this day.

My nephew was just a couple of days removed from getting his driver’s license. I had to mark the occasion by telling him to find a car he liked and his Dad would buy it for him.

We all laughed at that one. My brother countered that if he bought a classic car it would strictly for his own use.

Not that any of us could have afforded the cars. Some ran as high as $65,000.

I’m not a gear head, but I was fascinated with how well many of these old cars had been restored. We found one dated from 1932 that looked immaculate. Imagine driving down the road with something older than Pop, I said. We all laughed.

The Little Guy was quiet at first. However, he soon became interested to see all the designs. Both he and my brother were captivated with a Studebaker from the 1940s that seemed to be in mint condition.

There was a small course where some of the old cars were running through for time. He was fascinated to hear those big engines roar and listen to the tires squeal.

I was concerned because it didn’t seem like there was enough barriers between the cars and those watching them. A small town in west Tennessee had seven people, most of them kids, killed last year when a racecar lost control while running through the heart of town. We quickly went on to the next exhibit

As the morning wore on, 90-degree temperatures set in. We still hit about every group of cars and all the tents.

Between watching our sons, my brother and I got to talk quite a bit. He suffers from a bipolar malady that has basically left him unable to hold down a full-time job. He has been working three days a week at a temporary agency, and I encouraged him to continue with his progress.

Telling me something I already knew, he told me our parents were growing very impatient about my pending retirement from the National Guard that has gone on for nearly two years now. I told him there had been a new development, but I was still planning on going out at year’s end.

My brother tried the National Guard after high school. He didn’t care for it too much so it’s hard for him to understand my feelings about it. He does know my passion for it, and told me, “Just don’t let the bastards send you overseas again. I don't want to spend another year worrying about you."

I was really touched. I had no idea it was so hard on him.

After three hours, we left the car show. We found a Shoney’s nearby and had lunch.

My brother has lived in the Nashville for a couple of years and I was surprised he wasn’t acquainted with Shoney’s. I had the food bar and they ate burgers while the Little Guy had his usual fare of chicken nuggets.

We picked up a few knick-knacks, got some free stuff and saw some pretty cool cars. I’m still not an enthusiast, but it was a good time for us guys to hang out together. It was clearly the highlight of the day.

My brother told me to score an extra ticket next year. We’d bring Pop with us although we don’t know if he would be content to spend three hours walking around looking at cars.

Currently Watching Death Wish 3 By Charles Bronson, Deborah Raffin, Ed Lauter, Martin Balsam, Gavan O'Herlihy see related

A Little Payback

It’s been quite the topic of a number of water cooler conversations in offices all across middle Tennessee in recent days.

Many of us use Interstate 24 to get to work, and we have to pass through one of the most notorious speed traps in the nation. Since we know it’s there, it’s little more than an irritation, but many unknowing drivers get nailed for $200 speeding tickets by members of the Coopertown Police Department.

Coopertown is a small town in Robertson County, Tennessee, that lies just north of Nashville. A small strip of the interstate passes through the city’s boundaries and its tiny police force has been handing out tickets to boost the city’s sagging revenues for some time now.

Finally, somebody struck back. A local attorney did some research and found out that the city has to get permission from the state of Tennessee in order to conduct these revenue-producing ventures. For a number of days earlier this year, they were out on the roads pulling over drivers when they were not authorized to do so.

When news of this triumph came out, a lot of people were talking about it. There was a lot of rejoicing in the fact that this little Podunk, piss-ant town was going to have to refund their ill-gotten ticket revenues.

Like I said, it hasn’t been a big deal for me. I just know that after I pass Exit 24, I slow down for about five miles until I hit the Cheatham County line. I now do it without thinking of it.

Coopertown didn’t really make me mad until a couple of months ago. A young lady in my National Guard unit came to drill late on a Saturday, and, come to find out, she had been pulled over by Coopertown’s finest.

This ticked me for a couple of reasons.

First of all, most law enforcement officers don’t ticket Guardsmen. We have special plates that identify us as citizen-soldiers and, most of the time if we are pulled over, we just get a warning. It’s kind of special courtesy since local police and the Guard do train and work together often.

They ticketed this poor girl even though she was in uniform heading to drill. I thought that was very tacky since she wasn’t driving that fast over the speed limit. It seems she got nailed because she still had her out-of-state plates.

Secondly, I can’t believe they would ticket a lady wearing a uniform. I know my dear friends and avowed feminists Lady Songbird and the RedHaired Celtic will jump all over me for making a sexist statement, but you’d at least think they would give a gal a break when she’s trying to make it to drill on time. If they don’t respect the National Guard, they should at least show a bit of chivalry here.

I’m hoping she got her ticket during the time when Enos and Roscoe P. Coletrain weren’t supposed to be pulling over drivers. I’d like her to get a refund and an apology.

What I’d really like to see happen is the Tennessee General Assembly step in and put Coopertown out of business permanently. This episode has just convinced me that this practice needs to stop now.

I saw them out there this morning. They had somebody pulled over too.

I’m still glad somebody stood up to them. I think we all like it when an injustice is fixed and those doing it are stopped and even punished sometimes.

I think back to an episode in my grad school days. There was a club in town that often had cars spill over from its parking lot. Many would wind up being parked in a nearby bank.

Now, this bank wasn’t open for business on Saturday nights, and these cars weren’t hurting anything. The bank didn’t see it that way. They posted a small, non-illuminated sign in its parking lot saying that they were going to tow people away if they parked there after hours.

It was quite a scam they had going with a local towing agency. However, that scam ended abruptly one Saturday night.

A young man and his date along with a couple of friends came out of the club one night only to see the tow truck hooking up his car. They told the driver they were going to move the car and he could disconnect it.

The driver then swore at the group. He said it was too late and they would have to come claim the car.

The guys quickly disconnected the car. Seeing what was going on, the driver charged the group with a tire iron.

He picked the wrong guy to mess with this time. It seems this fellow was a member of one of the elite Special Forces units stationed at nearby Fort Campbell. He quickly disarmed the driver and grabbed him by the neck.

A friend who witnessed the incident said the soldier told him, “You just attacked an unarmed man with a deadly weapon. I could snap your neck so easy right now, and all I would have to do is fill out a few forms with the police. You’re lucky I have someplace to go after this or I would.”

The driver began weeping. He even lost control of his bodily functions according to a witness. He was then tossed into a nearby field as the group drove off.

Problem was that among the witnesses was another fellow whose car had been towed a few weeks earlier. He and several friends pummeled the driver and might have killed him had a Good Samaritan not intervened.

I tried to run this story down, but nobody would talk. A police officer told me off the record that he had warned the company a few weeks earlier that they were treading on thin ice with this practice.

Nobody wanted to press charges for fear of bad PR. It seems military people had already started diverting business away from the bank for its shameful actions.

Like the Coopertown incident, this event was the talk of the town for many days afterwards. It was an urban legend for many years.

It’s good when those victimize others are finally stopped. It’s even better when they get a little payback mixed in.