Wednesday Free-For-All

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

4:51 a.m.

Good morning! Have a great day!

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A night at the Fox Theater

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

He was a ten-year overnight success.

The lights in the hall dimmed, making the faces in front of him vanish before his eyes. But he could feel the audience’s energy. It flowed through his body.  He felt it as his heart beat in his chest.

He had arrived.  This was his moment. No, it was His moment.  The entertainer knew that he was just borrowing the talent that had brought him here tonight.

His eyes watered when he thought of his parents. How they had believed in him when no one else had.  He thought of the long nights on the road. His fatigue. The number of people who doubted his ability. And then there were the smokey bars. And the late, late nights. A slight smile flickered across his face.

His right hand reached up and grabbed the microphone, one finger at a time. Slowly. Very slowly. He savored the moment.  He pulled it from the mic stand and took a deep breath.  One. Two. Three. Four.

He exhaled.  It was time.

The spotlight came on.  His mouth opened and he told his first joke.  The room erupted in laughter. Four thousand six hundred and seventy eight people were wrapped around his finger.

He was the headliner. After 3,650 days of blood, sweat and dreams, his star rose that night in the Fox Theater.

He, like the rest of the room, just had to laugh.

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CARTOON: The trainwreck

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

20110719-014332.jpg

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The rescue

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

Heard a squawk from the kitchen. My four-year-old decided he was hungry, so he pushed a stool over to the washing machine and climbed up on it.  After standing on the washer and raiding the cereal in the cabinet, he couldn’t get down.  I found him sitting, dejected, busted and waiting for rescue.  It’ll be a picture I’ll show his prom date.

Of course, instead of rescuing him right away, I took his picture.

Dad of the year, folks. Dad of the year.

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The Day D.C. Stood Still

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

The giant rotating alien spacecraft hummed and hovered over Washington, D.C.  A single rope ladder emerged from the bottom, tickling the shadow on the grass below.  “We can travel across galaxies but we can’t even afford a transporter?” the little green man grumbled as he eased down the ladder onto The National Mall.

The National Guard had the alien craft surrounded.  Protesters holding signs that read, “No more illegal aliens” chanted at the aliens from near the Air & Space Museum.  News reporters wondered if the craft’s appearance had something to do with Casey Anthony.

It was a normal day in Washington.

As two F-22 fighter jets roared past and M-1A2 tanks rolled down The Mall, the bottom opened up again and another alien gingerly crawled down the rope.  Both aliens stood at the bottom, blinked their giant eyes to get the sleep out of them and stretched. One Hundred Trillion Gazillion miles without a bathroom break was murder on the joints and the bladder.

A fat General with a bullhorn stood safely behind a row of Privates and shouted, “What are your intentions.?!? Do you speak English?!?” The anti-illegal immigration protesters booed.

The aliens turned toward the fat General and made the universal alien gesture of peace. Unfortunately it was their middle finger.

The crowd gasped as the soldiers cocked their rifles.  The aliens, taken aback by the sudden show of hostility, pressed the universal translators on their space suits. “WE COME IN PEACE, EARTHLINGS. TAKE US TO YOUR LEADERS.”

The Army stood down and a black limo roared up between the alien craft and the Fat General.  The aliens got inside, popped the top on a Diet Mountain Dew and sat back as the limo roared up The Mall to the U.S. Capitol.

Onlookers in the Capitol looked stunned as the two aliens marched into the room deep in the bowls of America’s most distinctive Government building. Inside the room were Congressional members and the President, who were trying to hammer out a deal on the Debt Ceiling and future budget cuts. The President offered them Reeses Pieces.

The aliens, stunned, turned around and immediately headed back to their space ship. They climbed up the ladder, closed the hatch and blasted into the blue D.C. sky, never to be seen again.

The last transmission picked up by NORAD as the aliens left the Earth was this:

“WENT TO EARTH. ASKED TO MEET THEIR LEADERS. FOUND NONE.”

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CARTOON: The Shuttle’s last mission

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

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On the drive in this morning…

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

The orange sunrise was kissing downtown Jackson this morning, leaving its lipstick on every reflective surface and piece of glass.

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Tuesday Free-For-All

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

4:50 a.m.

What’s up with you?

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When you’re a Mississippian…

Posted on July 19, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

When you’re a Mississippian, you’ll know someone everywhere you go. Heard of six degrees of separation? We do it in two. And if you know someone’s mama — well, two degrees gets shaved to one.  We’re one big happy family.

Land in Hartsfield/Jackson Airport (the ATL to the seasoned traveler) and be prepared to run into at least a dozen people you know. But this only applies to Mississippians.  If you’re from anywhere else, say like Idaho, you won’t know a soul.  But if you are a Mississippian, it will quickly become a high school reunion. Or a family get-together.  Or a Bunko road trip. Look! Over there, there’s the First Baptist Glee Choir flying to Seattle!

And it doesn’t stop in C Concourse. When you get on your flight, you’ll know someone. It’s even money you’ll end up sitting next to your aunt’s second-husband’s banker’s wife’s daughter.  And you’ll know her.  You’ll also know she is hiding her pregnancy from her mom.  And you won’t think anything is unusual about knowing it.

When you’re a Mississippian, you try to make connections with total strangers in the weirdest places.  I was once in a cab heading from New York’s LaGuardia Airport and I asked the cabbie who his mama was.  Really. He was from Pakistan.  His mama didn’t know me from Abdul’s house cat.  But I went ahead and asked anyway.  (My wife slipped down, out of view out of pure shame. Or fear. Our driver was driving like he just learned how to drive — and he probably just did.)  By Yankee Stadium, we were talking like old friends. I think we were 75th cousins twice removed.

A Mississippian also speaks to total strangers.  That’s OK in the South. You get a pass. But up north, well, people look at you like you’re a serial killer from Hoboken.  I made the horrible mistake (in the cashier’s eyes) of speaking to him when I was buying some aspirin.  I also had the audacity of making eye contact with him.  And for the record, no Mr. Cashier, I don’t do that to myself.  Thanks for the suggestion.

My wife and I were walking down Broadway in the middle of Manhattan.  We ran into friends who we didn’t know were traveling.  It happens. But only if you’re a Mississippian.

I even caught myself doing the uniquely Southern thing of waving at the cabs going down the street. And they were nice enough to wave back. With one finger.

Bless their hearts.  I bet I knew their mamas.

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Defeating malaise

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Marshall Ramsey

I want to talk to you right now about a fundamental threat to American democracy. . . . I do not refer to the outward strength of America, a nation that is at peace tonight everywhere in the world, with unmatched economic power and military might. The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways. It is a crisis of confidence. It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will. We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation. . . .

Jimmy Carter from 1979’s The Malaise Speech

Other than the peace part (we certainly aren’t at peace around the world right now), Carter’s infamous speech rings painfully true today.  America, the greatest nation on this Earth, is in a mental slump. We’re freaked out. Uninspired. Just clinging on for dear life. The economy over the past three years has beat us up. Our jobs have changed. We make less money. Some of us have lost our homes.

And with 70% of our economy being driven by consumer spending, that’s a huge problem. Our wallets are sealed. We’re upside down in our homes. We’ve battened down the hatches.

Our leaders, both business and political are thinking of themselves: Their next bonus. The short-term bottom line. The next election.

The one thing that Ronald Reagan did that truly made a difference was that he worked hard to make America believe in itself again.  There is no one like him on the political scene right now. As much as I’d love to see the cavalry march in from Washington, it isn’t happening.   We’re on our own.

But that’s OK. We’re capable of greatness.  We’ve proved it over and over as a nation.

We’re having a massive midlife crisis.  We’ve been knocked down — hard.  My prayer is that this country will be guided the way that it has been in the past during its deepest crises. We can lift our way out of our current malaise.  My prayer is that we find a way as a nation to do just that. To become great again.

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