Snap, Crackle, Pop

Sooo, I’ve broken a bone in my foot. The fifth metatarsal, I believe? It’s the lower part of the bone that extends up to my pinky toe. There’s not much pain, unless I walk on it. The real hassle is going to be having my foot in a cast for who knows how long. Crutches are a pain, literally, and I don’t like being slowed down like this.

Consider me disappointed in myself.

The injury occurred while I was rushing down some steep stairs in the Pink Palace Museum in Memphis, by the way. We were rushing to get to the IMAX to see Roving Mars.

Guess we should have just waited for the next show, huh?

Shelby County… State Of Tennessee…

I am in Memphis! On my sister’s couch, specifically.

Despite a fairly busy week at G.C.E., I took off on Friday to speed across a few hundred miles and surprise Ashley before she left work on Friday. That was pretty fun. I hit some of the scariest rain I’ve ever driven through just north of Oxford, but I made it. Slowed it down, kept my eyes on the SUV in front of me, and didn’t change lanes any more than I had to.

Since then, I’ve been a pretty busy guy. Lots of time with the kids (Mario Kart and IRON MAN!), a couple of very tasty meals (Blue … something Burrito, and an amazing double patty melt and tots at Ubee’s), and last night, a ZOMBIE PARTY! Pictures forthcoming, of course. My phone is currently dead. I’ll juice it up again while I drive.

There’s a plan for “brunch” at 1 p.m., but that’s 2 o’clock Eastern time, people! I’ve gotta get some cereal in me or something before then.

Alright, be good, folks. I’ll see you back in Atlanta sometime soon.

April Summers

Not a bad couple of weeks we’ve got going here.

If you follow the Flickr and the Twitter and all that crap, you’d have some idea as to what I’ve been up to. Otherwise, you’ve just been experiencing a Whittendrought of epic proportions.

Apologies.

Anyway, yeah, what’s been going down?

I saw Michael Rooker, and asked him about SLITHER (which is great), which he said was physically demanding, but the most fun EVER. You could probably guess both of those things if you’ve ever seen SLITHER (which is great).

I finally got to catch an Explosions in the Sky concert. Amazing music. Love it. It’s maybe not the emotional facepunch that Sigur Ros can sometimes be, as it’s closer to traditional rock music than those guys. Still, it’s dynamic and impressive and quiet and LOUD and well worth seeking out.

Kate Nash is a silly little thing from the UK who sometimes bangs on her keyboard like a Muppet. I like her better when she’s playing the guitar and singing more clearly. It was a fun show overall, but she could cut back on the girl-group warmup session. The Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players opened, and they were fun. That Jason is nervier than I remembered, though. Also, Jason, one folded page does not a ‘zine make, if you ask me. There wasn’t even anything on the back!

Some [adult swim] creative types showed up at Criminal one day, and I swung by to check out the new toys, and shake some hands. I got a tiny Carl figurine initialed by the creator of ATHF, and met some guys from Squidbillies and Assy McGee. Neat!

Record Store Day, also celebrated at Criminal, was excellent free entertainment, as well. I’m still plowing through the stack of $1-2 CD treasures that I acquired that afternoon. This Kevin Hull fellow… I think he might be going places.

Finally, and most awesomely, “LOST” is back on the air, and is more ass-kickingly great than ever. If you stopped watching this show at some point, you were wrong. Please try again next life. Have fun with “Heroes.” Heh.

Today is my wonderful sister’s birthday! Please wish her well!

Stop The Words

Do you know what stopwords are? No, not safewords. Stopwords. I didn’t until just now. Well, I knew what they were, but had never heard that term before. Anyway, they’re the words that get filtered out before a bit of text is processed by some automated engine/program/being, i.e. Google, the MCP, or VICkI.

Here’s a page that lists the believed stopwords for Google search.

This is all just meant to remind you that less is more when searching the web. Type in the bare minimum number of words that you need to find on a page, and you’ll have the best luck.

Okay, Nerdlinger OUT.

NP :: Mogwai - “Auto Rock”

Sit-urday

So far this afternoon, I’ve had some biscuits and gravy, and been inside a bank vault.

Time to relax for a while, I think.

Con-voyyyyy!

Well, this didn’t affect my drive to work this morning, but it’s cool to see.

[ Truckers Convoy to Protest Fuel Prices ] @ 11Alive

Kinda sucks that they didn’t get to rally at the Capitol. I know those guys have got it rough right now. Lately during my CNN-watchin’ lunch breaks at work, I’ve seen some personal finance segments where they sit down with some truckers at a certain truckstop in College Park, GA. Some of the details that those interviews reveal are pretty disappointing to hear. Basically, our nation’s independent truck drivers are going broke just doing their jobs. If every run is a money-loser, what incentive do they have to keep rollin’?

A quick search lead me to this story on CNN, and this site for owner/operators that are considering a work stoppage– something that was mentioned quite enthusiastically on that last truckstop chat segment I saw.

I know it could mean higher prices on foods/sundries that I use, but I support these folks. C-level execs and transportation brokers can’t take them for granted. They have to be paid a fair wage, and be able to cover their costs, or our nation’s infrastructure will lose a critical (and highly entertaining) piece.

Truckin' through the mid-afternoon...

I do worry that since they are a group of independents, they may have trouble making an impact on any specific group. Does someone, somewhere set a rate that could positively benefit the industry as a whole?

I’ll have to read more about that later. Work calls.

All Three Coasts

Anyone else going to the A3C Festival this weekend?

It’s almost $50 for a three day pass, but look what you get:

Del tha Funkee Homosapien (DELTRON 3030!)
CLIPSE (Maybe Pitchfork was right?)
Three-Six Mafia (the world’s only Oscar-winning rap group)
Little Brother (from North Carolina; are great)
The Juice Crew (Big Daddy Kane, Biz Markee, Marley Marl, Roxanne
Shante, Craig G)
+ a couple dozen other local and indie hiphop acts
++ there will almost certainly be breakdancing!

I haven’t been to a rap show in a while, but I like the A3C fest (I have been 2 out of the past 3 years), and I don’t think I can pass up this one. Yes?

NP :: The AB’s - “Boom Box”

G.C.E.* Slice Of Life

A Co-worker:

WHOO! *pounds fist on desk as he walks by, post-workout*

MAN that was good! I feel SO much better than when I got here this morning!

And now, I’m gonna go nuke the ol’ lunchyola!

Eat, work, eat, and work!

/scene

NP :: Faith No More - “Collision”

*Giant Corporate Entity

Belated Storytime

I never managed to write the intended post about my trip to Mississippi.

The occasion was tragic, yeah, but the trip itself was pretty nice.

My immediate family have never been as close to my dad’s side as they have to my mom’s. Blame that on my mom being bossier/more attached to her mom, or proximity (with the difference only being about 20 miles), or whatever. In any case, we’d spend weekends or vacations at Mamaw’s house, and never visit Mama Ree for more than an afternoon, it seemed.

We lost Mamaw a few years ago– after my dad. That was a rough stretch.

I guess that only reduced further the number of trips to MS that we took as a family. So, there were fewer opportunities to stop by Mama Ree’s place, and even when we were there, the visits didn’t always happen. It had gotten to the point over the past couple of years where I was the primary– sometimes the only– point of contact between my dad’s family and my own. I’m the namesake– I guess that’s my job. It didn’t feel totally fair to me at times, though. I cared about everyone involved, but I felt like I needed backup, or something, right? One forgetful grandson shouldn’t be the only one in charge of staying in touch with an entire wing of the family. I did what I could, though. I’m pretty good about calling, but terrible about mailing things.

Belinda, an aunt, tried sending me a text message a few months back, and we’d trade occasional updates on Mama Ree’s health. I knew things weren’t great, so when I heard that things were going downhill in January, it wasn’t a huge surprise. I began to figure out when I could head out to MS.

I ended up trucking toward Grenada on a Tuesday. In the Lexus. My mom’s. The Talking Car was in the shop for a couple of weeks to fix a not-my-fault bumped hipwound, and my mom was on a boat trip, so the timing worked out for me to drive the mini-SUV to the homestead. No GPS or XM, but it does have heated seats and a six-disc changer.

I’m never any good at getting up and leaving on time, so I made it to the funeral home just in time for the pre-visitation family time in the private room with Mama Ree. A little cry from my cousin Katelyn led me through a closed sliding door to where my aunts and uncles and cousins were standing– arms linked, hands held, gazing quietly at my grandmother. Ashley showed up just a few minutes later, and we greeted everyone quietly. Before long, the steady flow of well-wishers began, and didn’t slow for nearly three hours.

At least a half-dozen people told me how much I looked like my daddy, and I got to chat with a few distant cousins and great-uncles about my grandfather, Lawrence Whitten. Lawrence died when my father was very young, and I knew almost nothing about him. I still don’t really, but I was able to mine a few tidbits. “He liked to fight… and he liked to keep somethin’ goin’,” said one relative. This is not surprising when you consider that his death reportedly involved gunplay and a dispute over horse ownership in a barn somewhere.

My granddad.

Sharp looking fella, no? I wonder what kind of a grandfather he would have been? We didn’t get the chance to find out. Mama Ree eventually remarried one James Marshall “Bo” Bloodworth, of whom I do have faint memories from my early years.

Near the end of the visitation, one of my dad’s elementary schoolmates introduced himself to me. He told me how he and my father had a contest every Sunday to see who could tie his tie the most precisely– the one with the two ends matching up the closest was the winner. Learning the Double Windsor had escalated the challenge to a new level. I’ve got to tell you, readers, I was holding back tears with a smile at this point.

Everyone had nice things to say about Mama Ree (most considered her a Hotline to Jesus for Montgomery County, MS because of her dutiful, enthusiastic prayer routines), but almost as many said the kindest things to me about my father, too, and I was proud to be his son.

Tuesday night, Ash and I headed back to Aunt Bet’s house, where the power was out. We ate cold cut sammiches and chips by candle- and lamplight, and enjoyed time with cousins from the other side of the family. There was a mounted squirrel on the wall of my cousin’s room where I slept. Welcome to Holcomb, MS.

The next day was cold and clear and beautiful. The funeral was respectful, and well-attended. The reception afterwards back at the church was an amazing show of generosity and kindness from friends and family. I’ll try to post up a picture or two sometime soon (I’m way behind on the Flickring).

I will miss my grandmother, but I’m glad that her recent years of illness are behind her now.

Long post, I know. It’s more for me than it is for you. Maybe it’ll inspire you to write a note to a loved one, though. Send along a recent photo if you can. They love that stuff.

Have a good weekend, folks.

NP :: Faith No More - “Mouth to Mouth”

Sledge Hammer!

I fired two handguns last night. No, not at the same time, and NO, not while jumping through the air and yelling. Still, it was pretty interesting. One was a 9mm, the other, a Glock .40cal. They both kick back in the hand quite a bit, but neither was painful or unwieldy to me.

You would have to be a bit of a badass to squeeze off multiple shots in a row and actually hit something smaller than a KIA Rondo, I think. Getting back on your target immediately after a shot would be pretty difficult without significant forearm/hand strength and a lot of practice. I imagine most of the dumbasses out there running around our nation’s streets with automatics in the waistbands of their jeans just use the “fill the air with lead” approach that results in bystanders getting hit and civilian homes getting ventilated. Jackholes. Is it sad that having more accurate criminals might actually benefit our situation in a way?

I hit the targets, for the most part. Thanks, hours and hours of Ghost Squad! We were only shooting at 20′, but most of us were beginners, so I guess that’s not bad.

Am I a Republican now?

NP :: Glory/James Horner - “An Epitaph To War”




The Grayscale?

This is a sporadic blog by Gray Whitten. Used to call it The Grayscale when it lived elsewhere, but now I'm going with the domain name and just saying YARG! (dot org). Feel free to sign up via RSS or LJ, or just, you know, visit on a regular basis. Thanks!

 

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