BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

With the sound of a Basset Hound having its tail pulled really hard.

Okay, not literally. Please allow me to explain…

You see, I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. Even if you put a bead of silicone sealant around the top then slap the lid on. It’s just not one of my talents. I will find a way to spill that bucket full of tune all over the ground within the first two notes of any song.

Of course, this does not keep me from appreciating music, listening to music, and yes, even singing. In the shower. In the car. When listening to the radio at home… Or, even if I just feel like breaking into song. It’s one of those things. We all do it at one time or another. The mood strikes us and out come the notes, off-key, on-key, howling, squeaking, rasping, whatever. It’s just a fact of life.

So… I spent this past weekend in Newark, Ohio at Violet Flame Gifts with Dorothy Morrison, doing that booksigning thing, workshops, etc. Heather (the owner) runs a great shop and really takes care of folks. We were coffeed, fed, pampered, and otherwise treated like royalty. That is the way of things at VFG, and I will go back there every chance I get. This year, Kim and Allen even took me to the John Glenn Museum which was a blast. Even with the whole starter on the van thing (another story entirely)… Anyway, there I go digressing again. The point of this blog is that on the last night of the event, that being Saturday, Heather throws a bash complete with a live band. The band, as always, is The Barstool Prophets— a couple of guys with barstools, guitars, and a ton of talent. And, as usual, they insisted that I come up and sing with them.

Therefore, I suppose this is my public apology to those in attendance who were forced to listen to me bellow off-key through “Turn The Page“, “The Perfect Country and Western Song“, and even an accappella rendition of “The Ballad of Serenity“.

Rumor has it there are pictures out there, complete with some of my friends up there singing with me. Some of the evidence is apparently even on Myspace. I guess I’ll have to go look.

More to come…

Murv

Or, so she would have you all believe…

Now, before you die hard “Morrisonites” go nuts and threaten to burn me at the stake, read on, digest the evidence, and THEN make your decision. I suspect you will reach the same conclusion as I.

Now, to understand exactly WHY I am calling her friendship into question, we must begin with Chicken and Dumplings. Why Chicken and Dumplings you ask? Well, for starters, C&D’s are pretty darned good. Especially to folks who are Southerners like Morrison and me. C&D’s that aren’t totally screwed up (i.e. all mushy and gloopy) are comfort food to the Southern palate. They harken back to mama’s kitchen, the big cast iron kettle on the stove, and the wonderful and peppery aroma of stewed hens fresh from the yard combined with the tender and flavorful dumplings that have simmered in the lovely juices. (Damn…now I want a plate of them…*wistful sigh*)

But, to continue, they are a meal that sticks with you for just the right amount of time– they warm you and they even carry the right combination of enzymes to make you feel better when you have a cold. In short, they are one of the most perfect foods on the face of the earth.

Where the hell am I going with this? Read on…

Now, there is something else you should know about Chicken and Dumplings. If you pull into any Cracker Barrel in the United States, they will have a big ol’ pot of C&D’s simmering away in the kitchen. Now, while it is romantic to think they have a replica of mama’s kitchen back there, complete with the cast iron pot, I know better. It is a commercial kitchen, and the C&D’s are more than likely bubbling away in a big stainless steel stock pot, or in a tray on a steam table. But, that’s okay. They learned how to make C&D’s the right way. I even watched a show on Food Network where they talked about learning how to do it properly from a Southern Gramma, so there you go. All I can say is that I’ve had them on countless occasions, and they are VERY good. Damn near the way mama (and, my Grandaddy Babb, who owned a diner in Fulton, KY where I’m from) used to make ’em.

And, of course the point above is that they are already on the stove…What does this mean? Simple – Pull into a Cracker Barrel, and if you’re in a hurry, order the Chicken and Dumplings. They’ll be in front of you FAST, they’ll be good and filling, and you’ll be back on the road in no time.

I know, you still have no clue why it is that I think Morrison is actually evil and out to get me…Keep reading, you’ll understand soon…

So, as you all know Morrison and I tour together quite a lot. And, as I have talked about in the past, book tours encompass many modes of transportation. One of the primaries, however, is still the good old automobile. So, this means that be it my truck, her Jeep, or even a rental car, we cruise the highways and byways of the U.S. much like Tod and Buzz on Route 66. (Yeah, I’m dating myself again, but that’s not the point here…)

Now, being hard working authors, we get hungry. Powerful hungry in fact. Meaning, we need to eat. However, you must remember that there are times when we are doing multiple stores in multiple cities all in one day. So, we are doing a lot of driving and rushing about to get to places on time. Stopping to eat requires that it be QUICK, reasonable, and since we both like for it to be at least halfway decent, Cracker Barrel has literally become the “Official On The Road Restaurant of all Morrison-Sellars Book Tours”… Now, THEY might not know this, but we do…(Hmmmm…maybe we should tell them…That way maybe we’d get some kind of endorsement contract or something…Maybe even some free Chicken and Dumplings…)

Anyway, now I am digressing…

So, here’s the thing. Whenever we stop at Cracker Barrel, since the Chicken and Dumplings are so quick to be had, this allows Morrison an opportunity to shop (let me tell you, this is something she does like a maniac. It’s just plain frightening)…Anyway, so she shops in the “Country Store”…Thus far, she hasn’t forced me to strap a rocking chair to the hood of the vehicle or anything, but she has actually done far worse…

You see, the folks at Cracker Barrel sell some pretty odd crap. Everything from the nostalgic candies of my youth to John Deere hats. However, they also sell silly mechanical noisemaking animatronic bizarro holiday oriented thingywhatsits.

AHA! Now we have the evidence!

Yes. Morrison, being the good “Aunt” to my child that she is, has found it necessary on such occasions to purchase, for my child, these bizarro animatronic whatsits.

We currently have a Parrot which digitally records 5 seconds of sound, then morphs it through filters and replays it not once, but three times in succession at high pitch, high volume, and high speed. However, the thingywhatsit that triggered this particular blog is this:

This damn Easter frog thingywhatsit is currently sitting in a chair in my dining room. As you can see, it ain’t exactly small. On top of that, it is wired with both sound and motion sensors. Now, the thing about these sensors is that they are selectively operating sensors. What this means is that if you for some reason, (like you’ve had a few too many and have lost your mind) actually want to show someone how it works, you can jump up and down in front of it, shout, clap, and even fire a gun next to its friggin’ head and it will just stand there staring at you. (and yes, I’ve always checked to make sure it is switched on.) However, if it just happens that someone’s cell phone rings three blocks away, or a drosophila melanogaster (aka fruit fly) flies past the window, this freakin’ thing starts waving its arms and babbling in a high-pitched, childlike voice- It’s the best Easter ever! Time for an Easter egg hunt! It’s Easter time! Hooray for Easter! ad nauseum…

And that, my dear friends is why I am convinced that Morrison is not really my friend, but actually someone sent by a foreign espionage type agency on a mission to drive me insane.

And, you know what else? I think Kristin Madden is her partner.

Murv