My Poem dedicated to Osama Bin Laden

A Footnote

In 1776, we began as a humble nation,

Born out of rebellion and war’s desolation,

Forged in fire are we,

The land of the brave, the home of the free.

For two hundred thirty five years we’ve toiled,

Often times as tyranny’s foil,

We’ve warred amongst ourselves and still we remain,

The chosen few, at home on the range

We are no strangers to the blade, or to the gun,

From sea to shining sea, from dawn to setting sun,

Our heroes are buried across the world,

On our minds are they, when Old Glory comes unfurled.

We have endured when others have failed,

We are the land from which liberty hailed,

From the city’s bright lights to quiet dirt roads,

Our states are United, our seeds of strength sowed.

On that fateful September day, our lives were changed,

The innocent perished in a coward’s flames,

Underground he remained throughout,

As the ashes of our neighbors burned out.

As in ’41, when our soil was last attacked,

We gathered ourselves and fought back,

Across the globe in our righteous might we came,

To collect a debt in vengeance’s name

Through time and effort, your day has come,

The piper has been paid, and he claimed a hefty sum,

Your life has been extinguished, erased in the blink of an eye

By an anonymous servant of liberty, by his hand you died.

Your followers are dead or in hiding,

For now it is not time they are biding,

Your celebrating streets are silent,

For they were witness to your demise, so swift and violent

You have now joined the rank and file,

Of the tyrannical, the oppressive and reviled,

That met their end by the tip of our blade,

So that everlasting freedom shall be saved.

So, hand on my heart, I salute the fallen

As I will, long after you are forgotten,

For they will live forever in our minds,

While you remain hidden, nothing but one in a long line.

From Bunker Hill to 50,000 names on a Wall,

From Omaha Beach, to the Tower’s Fall,

We honor their memories, by spoken word and story,

As they rest eternally in God’s Glory.

** Dedicated to USN Seal Team Six and the memory of Roy H. Butler, Sr., W.L. Stephens, W.C. Scott and every other American who has served abroad in defense of our nation.

Obscure Song You Should Download

When you think of the New York rap scene, the first names that come to my mind are the big ones....Grandmaster Flash, Notorious B.I.G., LL Cool J, Jay-Z, , Wu Tang, P. Diddy, 50 Cent, Nas and Eric B. and Rakim. There are so many forgotten groups and solo artists that were spawned from the projects in Queens, the Bronx and Brooklyn, you cannot count them all. One of these groups is called "Group Home." They were never extremely popular but they have an awesome song about living life in the NYC streets called "Supa Star." Enjoy!

Georgia Football...In Need of a Culture Change

In the last three years I cannot count how many times I have been asked this question: “Brad, what the HELL is wrong with Georgia football?” It cannot be denied. We are sliding downhill. This realization was culminated by the latest bowl loss to Central Florida, which sent yours truly into a whiskey fueled tirade at Mickey Mantle’s Bar in New York City. Bushmill’s should send me a “Thank You” card for that night. I proved to the bar that their product works, and it works fast.

Here’s some math for you….Our so-called five star players getting their butt handed to them on every down + Our coach opting for a field goal on the three-yard line + Turnovers +Penalties = Me angrily devouring 45 hot wings in the midst of the wave of Bushmill’s that crashed over me when halftime ended. “You Georgia guys take this stuff seriously, huh?” said the waitress. “Ma’am, you have no idea,” was my reply. I tolerated the remainder of the lackluster performance until about 2 minutes left in the 4^th quarter, when they showed George O’Leary laughing on the sidelines. I stuck my fork in my eye and promptly went to Lennox Hill Hospital, the same place where Mickey Mantle went after he tore his knee up on that drain cover at Yankee Stadium. (Just kidding. It was contemplated, though)

This summer has been marked by great recruiting news. The Dream Team has come to campus and created a buzz. These kids are hungry, they want to bring the pride back. However, this is the same story I’ve heard every year since I graduated. “The seniors are stepping up” and “the leaders are in the weight room motivating everybody.” Or my personal favorite, “This is a new year.”  And every year we do the following: 1) blowout 2 nobodies; 2) play Carolina like an intramural flag football team still hungover from last night; 3) sh*t the bed against Florida and Auburn/Tennessee; 4) let Vandy/Ole Miss/Mississippi State play us down to the wire; 5) Bama/LSU is always a tossup, no matter the records; 6) Beat Tech unless they cheat. There’s your 8-5 and 6-7 records. How much longer can the Bulldog Nation stand it? Where did we go wrong? My answers to those questions are as follows: Not long and the Alabama game in 2008.

The Bama game in 2008 was the high water mark for me. We were ranked #1. We had AJ Green. We had Matthew Stafford. We had Knowshon. I have never felt so good about a game in my life. I just knew we would take them to the woodshed and mow through the rest of the league and meet somebody in the BCS Championship (hopefully Ohio State, because I wanted to watch us pummel those smug pricks into the turf). The tailgate was epic. It started at 8 AM and ended at 7:30 PM. I played 75 games of cornhole. Bama people were coming by and hanging out with us, telling me they just hoped to keep it close. Hell, they lost to Louisiana-Monroe last year! I was riding higher than Amy Winehouse on a crack binge in a space shuttle. (Too soon? Oh well.)

Alabama slaughtered us. It was 30-0 before I could get my first spiked Coca-Cola stirred right. Saban had those guys absolutely wired and they came out swinging. We came out flat, sat back on our heels and watched them blow right past us. Our guys looked like they had just failed a quiz in PE….. just clueless. The Bama faithful were going nuts. They handled it well, though. They have won before. Plus, Bama was carrying the torch for the SEC long before UGA woke up, so my hats off to them eternally. It still hurt though, to watch us get embarrassed on national television and cast us into the role of spoiler for the rest of the season. That season was supposed to be ours. We never recovered from that blowout if you ask me.

It’s the culture created by UGA that is killing us, in my opinion. Have you been to a UGA game lately? Our stadium is NOT loud. The South side does not stand up for anything but third downs. I was asked to sit down at EVERY single home game in 2009. The real fans are NOT at the games. They can’t afford it anymore. The donations required and the gameday rules have priced so many good people out of coming to Athens. The school has sold out to bluebloods who treat the games like a social event. I cannot count how many times I have heard comments like this, “Ha, look at those douchebag Florida people in their Tebow jerseys and jean shorts.” As foolish as it may look, at least they give a damn. Florida fans are freakin’ loud. So are LSU, Bama, Auburn and Tennessee. An Auburn guy I know put it this way: “A guy who lays bricks for a living, who cannot wait for Saturday to get here so he can get to the stadium and saves all his money for tickets, food and beer has so much more invested in the actual game.” It’s true! These big money donors pay, but they pay to be pampered. They pay to say, “I sit in the skyboxes.” They refer to the above mentioned brick layer as a “redneck.” Well, give me 10,000 rednecks at the game and keep your $10,000 donation. I bet you have a nice leather couch in your house on Peachtree Battle with a sweet TV. No heat. No rowdy “rednecks” to bother you. Sounds like a good deal to me.

I think this attitude has trickled down to the field. A sense of entitlement. Riding the wave of the 2002-05 seasons, “we are Georgia, so get out of our way.” Bama does not give a rat’s ass about that. Neither does Florida. Apparently, Central Florida did not get the memo either. It’s time to reverse this train, and right now. Flush the “tea and crumpet” toilet, send the fairweathered fans packing and get the real folks back in here. The bricklayers from Blakely. The guy with the lawn care business from Ocilla. The plant workers from Rome, Cartersville, Gainesville, and Calhoun. The farmers from Tifton and Colquitt. True Georgians who get excited about the games, not the prospect of being seen at the game. Change the culture and you will see a new outlook, I guarantee you. We’ll have more guys like Tony Gilbert, Boss Bailey, Terrence Edwards, and David Pollack out there, guys who were dyed in the wool Dawgs that played every down like it was their last. I miss those guys. I think we have the tools to get it done. We have the talent and the coaches (lots of people disagree here, but I think Richt knows what he must do). There is a sense of urgency in 2011 and everybody knows it. Now, let’s clean house and get back to winning! Go Dawgs! (Or I’ll stick a fork in my eye).

Obscure Song You Should Download

Gov't Mule is one of the best bands in the United States. I'll put money on it. Other than 104.9 The Rebel (out of Rome, GA, woohoo!) I have never heard them on the radio once. Headed up by Warren Haynes (#23 on Rolling Stones 100 Greatest Guitarists), this collection of talent can belt out anything....rock, blues, jazz, folk, country, hell....I bet they can rap too. Their albums are amazing, with Haynes usually stealing the show with facemelting solos that would make Duane and Dickey proud. Oh yeah, Haynes played with the Allman Brothers for years, further endearing his music to me. He collaborates with a lot of great acts around the country. For all you Dave Matthews fans, Youtube "Warren Haynes #41." It will blow your mind. Anyhow, the following song is indicative of Gov't Mule's versatility and my personal favorite. It has one of the greatest lines ever...."the circus came to town, I guess it must have stayed." Enjoy "Endless Parade."

Bringing back the 90's....One Song At a Time

Do you remember the 90’s? I sure as heck do. It was a wonderful decade for yours truly. I was too young to care about much, but old enough to be dangerous with my limited knowledge of the world. With my sidespike, Bugle Boys and Trapper Keeper in hand, all I wanted was to play basketball, watch the newest Saved By The Bell and buy CD’s. We all still had that innocence about us; that flicker of hope that made us believe the world would indeed become our oyster one day. No mortgages, student loans or taxes. Just basketball games, Social Studies and hoping we were the first to get the new Jordans when they came out. When I think of those days, I cannot help but smile.

I think of those memories like a tiny pilot light in a heater. Sometimes, it’s so small and blue you think it has gone out. Other times, you turn the knob, and the flame ignites into a glowing orange. Turning that knob can be a problem in this world today, with all the stress and worry placed upon us by the recession and all the speculation that the war on terror will never end, oil prices will never be lowered and finding a job will be harder than peeling a grape. I say to hell with that. I did not go to school and go into all this debt to be miserable. How do I turn the knob to get my pilot light burning again? Music.

When I am having a bad day, I turn on my Ipod and find songs that remind me of good days and times in my life. Many of these memories come from the 90’s. I know that living in the past is not healthy, and that is not what I am doing. When I hear certain songs that take me back to those days, I remember the carefree nature of that kid with the sidespike and it reminds me that the world is not so bad. It helps me simplify things. I take emphasis off my problems and put it to something good, like catching up with an old friend or taking a day just to play outside. It is amazing how a song can do that for you. So, without further adieu, here are my top ten 90’s songs that bring out the kid in me.

#10: “Can’t Stop” by After 7 (1990) – this is an old New Jack Swing song beautifully done by this awesome group, headed up by a young Babyface Edmonds. I loved this sound. It is without frills, it’s just harmonizing vocals and a little dance music mixed together. When I hear this song, I go back to all those basketball camps in my mind. Me and my Barkley jersey, tucked into my Ocean Pacific shorts. The smell of the gym fills my nose and all I care about is making two free throws so I don’t have to run suicides. Great days.

#9: “Only Wanna Be With You” by Hootie and the Blowfish (1995): This song reminds me of a field trip we took back in 8^th grade. We went around the entire state of Georgia in a week. Everybody had Walkmans back then (that weighed 3 pounds) and I guarantee you that every single person had this song blaring in their ears along with the rest of that album. We spent the whole trip playing truth or dare and staying up all night talking to the girls on their hotel room phone.

#8: “Baby-Baby-Baby” by TLC (1992): These girls were great, the Supremes of the 90’s. This song reminds me of the first girl I ever liked and wanted to “go with.” Remember when we would say that? Passing notes between Art and Science, with about five P.S.’s at the end of every one of them. I never kissed her, and barely held her hand, because I was too scared. What a Casanova I was.

#7: “Far Behind” by Candlebox (1993): This one hit wonder really had an impact on me. I thought for awhile that I could be grunge, started acting afflicted and bought a flannel shirt. No, really, I enjoy this song because it reminds me of watching all the kids who went grunge and wondering why they traded their Nikes for Vans and grew those butt-cut hairdos. Now, I see them as adults and it cracks me up to remember them as acne faced “skaters” who stuck it to the Man as thirteen year olds. Good times.

#6: “Wheelz of Steel” by Outkast (1996): The first thirty seconds of this song can be quoted by just about every guy I knew growing up. We used to play this one over and over when we played ball, then hit the pool to cool off. We didn’t care how hot it was. We didn’t care about tests or applying to college right then. We just let Andre and Big Boi get us through another 3-on-3 slugfest and we loved every second of it.

#5: “Lucas With the Lid Off” by Lucas (1995): This was our intro song when I was on the 8^th grade basketball team. I cannot listen to it without remembering my crooked buck teeth (it looked like my tongue was in jail), complete with Starter Jacket and San Diego Chargers hat (hey, I was fairweathered, they went to the Super Bowl and I wanted them to win). After practice, I would sit on the sidewalk with the guys as our moms would pick us up, one by one. The only thing we worried about was whether we would get to wear black socks that season.

#4: “No Rain” by Blind Melon (1992): This mega popular song takes me back to 7^th grade, specifically the Olympics that took place the last few days of school. I think we were China. I dumped my girlfriend (or maybe she dumped me) because we would never see each other over the summer. I mean, I was in Cassville and she was all the way out in Sugar Valley. That’s impossible with a bike. I never kissed her either, but we did hold hands a lot, so I’m 0 for 2 in the chick department. Big pimpin’.

#3: “Cryin” by Aerosmith (1993): This is the Alicia Silverstone bungee jumping video, where she shoots a bird at her boyfriend. This was riveting stuff in 1993 and she was the hottest thing since Kelly Kapowski. I always watched the top ten videos every morning with my Apple Jacks and this video played so many times that it could have had its own channel. Plus nearly everyone I knew had the “Big Ones” and the “Get A Grip” albums in their Jansport backpacks. (yeah, I had the same one for six years!)

#2: “Show Me Love” by Kilo Ali (1997): If everybody had the Aerosmith CD’s in their backpack, then they had Kilo’s album “Organized Bass” in their Kenwood system. This song absolutely marks my high school years. It reminds me of riding around in my truck, trying to decide whether we would cruise Barrett Parkway or go to US Play and which Waffle House we would end up in. Big decisions.

#1: “Right Here, Right Now” by Jesus Jones (1991) – This song had a political message but in my mind, it was a personal message to live life to the fullest. Every time I hear this song, I just come alive. I was only 10 years old, with a flat top and acid washed, tightrolled Jordaches, but I knew this song meant something to me. I used to play this in my old room over and over, especially the first fifteen seconds. I loved that guitar riff and then Mike Edwards singing, “a woman on the radio talks about revolution, when it’s already passed her by…” Awesome.

            You may not like any of these songs and that’s cool. Music is personal for everybody. But remember that when your day is sucking wind and you need a pick-me-up, plug in something that reminds you of better times. You will remember what it was like to smile and not worry about work, money, job security and all the other stresses that life throws at us. Even if it’s just for minute, be a kid again, I promise it helps.

Obscure Song You Should Download

Joe Walsh is a man of many parts. He has played solo, with Barnstorm, the James Gang and of course, with the Eagles. No matter what he is doing, you can always tell when a song has a Joe Walsh influence in it. It's going to be a little rock, a little psychedelic, with interesting lyrics and usually an awesome riff or two. Everybody knows "Life's Been Good" and "Rocky Mountain Way" but very few know this particular song. Off the "So What" album from 1974, I bring you "County Fair." Enjoy.

High grass and Camaros: The story of HOAs and their Uselessness

When I lived in Athens, I lived in a neighborhood that required membership in a Homeowner’s Association. It was not an independent HOA, this was created by and run by residents in charge of their own neighborhood. We would have monthly meetings to discuss neighborhood business and vote on certain issues, usually regarding lawn care, covenants, and the spending of our $85 per month dues. We elected officers to oversee the operation and every resident had an equal say in the goings-on of our little community. Sounds like the epitome of democracy, right? Yeah, if democracy was scrubbing out my eyes with a Brillo Pad, then yeah, it’s democracy.

I call shenanigans on HOA membership in its entirety. I have never been to a 3-hour monthly meeting that accomplished less and drove more wedges between people than an HOA meeting. Neighbors telling neighbors what to do, when to do it and how? Like a lead balloon. You have distinct types of people in the HOA, and when these types must interact and money gets involved, watch out. If you never thought that a retention pond could lead to a physical altercation, think again brother. You want speed bumps on the street to slow down the teenagers? You have to figure out who is going to do it, when they are going to do it, what it will cost, should they be made of asphalt or plastic, how far apart, how many, will it violate city codes and for God’s sake, what about the children? This has to be put to a vote. Cue the Brillo pads to the eyes.

First, you have to understand who you are dealing with. You have the old people in the neighborhood. They have seen it all, been members of HOA’s before and know way more than the “Just out of college, First time homebuyer, Slightly hungover from last night” (JFS) crowd. Then you have the people with kids, people without kids, people who work all the time, people who do not work at all, housewives, people who love dogs, people who hate dogs, the guy who gets drunk and likes to shoot his rifle at 2 AM, the lady who stays jacked on pills and fights her boyfriend at the drop of a hat, the guy in the first house on the right that has a party every Friday (which pisses off the old people, housewives, and people with dogs), and the numerous randoms who pay dues late, have an immobile vehicle in their driveway or tape measure their property line so when a dispute arises (which it will, usually with people with kids, dogs and the guy who has the parties), they are fully prepared.

All of these people have a right to have their voice heard. They also group together with like minded residents to form cliques and form voting blocs. The old people band together against the teenagers. The people with dogs and kids against the rifle shooter and the pillhead. It’s a colossal disaster, which is why I ran for and won the vice-president election in my second year in the neighborhood. I am a glutton for punishment. Plus, I was a member of the JFS crowd and we needed to be represented. The speed bump problem was thrown on me after four months of filibustering. After the last two hour discussion that ended in walkouts, a nasty rift arising between the people who work all the time and the housewives, and three people proclaiming they would quit paying dues, they just said, “Screw it, Stephens, you got it.” I got it done in 48 hours. Called a guy I knew, he installed them at 2:00 one afternoon, and charged us cost of materials plus a few extra dollars for himself. Problem solved. You know why? I didn’t ask permission. I didn’t run it by anyone. I didn’t get out an Excel spreadsheet to compare and contrast the benefits of asphalt vs. plastic. I let a man who knew exactly what we needed install the right speed bumps and I wrote him a check.

Was that the end of it? Nope. Several groups were angry with me that I didn’t present the information to the entire neighborhood to approve the work. Some people thought the speed bumps should have been staggered. Some thought they should be black instead of yellow. The JFS crowd stood and made a gauntlet for me to run through before I was stoned to death like a witch in Salem. That was my first and last time as an HOA member. I never went back to another meeting and we moved about six months later. I still get the lowdown from my fellow JFS (now a part of the people with kids group) members. They’ve fired three different lawn care companies, it’s been discovered that our back property line has been encroached by ten feet and the cops go to the pillhead’s house once a week now, which really angers the old people, the housewives and the property line guy. Aaaaah, memories. Now I live in a ‘hood with an HOA run by a property management company. They issue the rules. They get the grass cut. They fine people for breaking covenants. There are no meetings or officers. We have no say-so in anything and it’s freakin’ beautiful. Totalitarianism at its finest.

I could not imagine an HOA back home in Cassville. First of all, nobody would attend the meetings. People in Cassville are not interested in what you think about the appearance of their property. We are going to have an immobile vehicle in the yard, so deal with it. In fact, this is a requirement to live on some streets. Every guy has a car they are “gonna fix up one day and that baby gonna run like a damn top.” This is usually a Camaro or a Mustang. All it needs is new paint, wheels, a windshield, all brakes replaced, head gaskets, odometer, radio, gear shift, new pistons, axles and a passenger seat (which was taken and used as a tailgating chair at Talladega). It’s like the Building Fund at the church, nobody knows its true purpose, but it will always be there.

Second, lawn care is optional. If you live a mile from your nearest neighbor, why should you care about his property value? What if we like six foot stalks of polk salat in our yard? It’s better than growing corn in the front yard, which some people are apt to do. That can be dangerous though. After a particularly violent thunderstorm the night before, I was working at the store the next morning and listening to everybody’s stories. One man, who had his corn planted in his front yard, informed me that the “got dam storm blowed his got dam corn in the got dam road.” Imagine having an HOA on that one. The thoroughfare covered in ears of Silver Queen. The horror. Let’s vote on it.

Third, and most important, is the dues issue. $85 a month. That’s about five cases of Budweiser. That’s two cartons of Marlboros. That is gas money to get to Panama City Beach (pronounced Pan-a-maw and dropping the City and Beach completely, of course). We have better things to do with our money, clearly. We’ll keep our cars rusty, our grass knee high, and our vices.... you can have your HOA.

Obscure Song You Should Download

The Allman Brothers Band was formed in Daytona Beach, Florida and forged in the studios of Capricorn Records in Macon, Georgia. Along with his brother Duane, Gregg Allman recruited a group of musicians that were able to mix elements of rock, blues, country and folk music and create a sound that would come to signify Southern rock. In fact, Gregg said it all when he told VH1 that saying "Southern rock" is redundant, because it was created by us, so it's like saying "rock rock." Anyhow, with all their mega hits, they also generated dozens of songs that are lost to the radio for various reasons, usually because they like to jam for minutes at a time. This song is my favorite ABB song of all time, and I have never heard it played on the radio. Gregg wrote it and Duane slays the slide guitar in an awesome solo. Enjoy "Dreams," y'all.

Five Realizations for This Week

1)                      If whale sharks decided to go medieval on us, we’d be toast. I could see a diver on GPTV swimming alongside a whale shark, with David Attenborough narrating, “And this lovely creature with all it’s size and power, is positively harmless, eating only phytoplankton…” and then it turns around and swallows the diver whole. Years of marine research down the toilet and the big guy over at the Georgia Aquarium becomes 10,000 pounds of steak.

2)                   Speaking of animals, Bangladesh natives are the wildebeests of the human world. You ever notice how wildebeests are always the #1 choice of predators everywhere? Lions, tigers, cheetahs, woodpeckers….you name it. Wildebeests are mercilessly slaughtered by every living thing that lives and breathes in the jungle. It’s almost like they plan it. “Hmmmmm, here is a muddy pond with absolutely no escape route right next to this pride of lions….over here everybody!” says their leader.

When a disaster hits Bangladesh, it is freakin’ biblical every time. Earthquakes, landslides, typhoons, gas price increases…on to that celestial shore they go, by the thousands. Call me insensitive, but the numbers don’t lie.

3)                   Everybody in northwest Georgia believes they have Cherokee (pronounced Char-kee) blood in them. “Hell, my daddy’s great grandpa was on the Trail of Tears and took a wrong turn and ended up in Adairsville (pronounced Dars-Vull).” It could be the whitest redhead on the block and they would still claim it. It’s a badge of honor for us. And to return to the homeland in North Carolina to pay homage (also known as compulsive gambling), is a rare treat.

As for me, I’m 1/32 Cherokee…no really, I looked it up!  =)

4)                        I’m glad that “pre-worn” cowboy hats are fading from existence. I blame Kenny Chesney for this ridiculous fad, with his fake pectoral muscles and shellace. (shell necklace). He was so much cooler when he was fat, wearing flannel and singing about East Tennessee. Instead, he became some fraudulent Jimmy Buffet clone and he started wearing a “pre-worn” cowboy hat. The people who participated in this laughable haberdashery along with him were about as far from a real cowboy as you can get. If this were Star Wars, Kenny Chesney would be the Emperor and his hat would be the Death Star, sucking in one more moron with it’s tractor beam. Join my Rebellion. Take off the hat. You want real country? Get one of your granddad’s old Faron Young albums and play “Hello Walls.” It’s more country than a dirt road covered in fried chicken with a river of Jack Daniel’s running beside it.

5)                          Although I am on the Paleo Diet, watching everything I eat and drink, counting calories and measuring protein like a mad scientist….I still want to go to the Varsity and gobble down two hot dogs all the way with a the biggest Frosted Orange in history. That sh*t is delicious.

Obscure Song You Should Download

Formed in England in 1967, Traffic is one of the most underrated bands of all time. Their uniquely fused music is unlike any other band you will ever hear, one song will have saxophones and flutes, the next will have a Mellotron and a mandolin. Steve Winwood's voice is the perfect addition to this amalgamation of jazz, folk, psychedelic and progressive rock. They have some songs that have notoriety these days, mainly "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys" and their rendition of "Feelin' Alright." Other than that, you will rarely hear them unless your Dad has a sentimental moment and yanks out his old record collection. If he does, he probably will bring out this album and you need to give "Freedom Rider" a holler. I promise you won't be disappointed.