Monday, July 23, 2012

What's Your Passion? | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

What's Your Passion? | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

Sunday Stroll

Well, I thought I'd dip my feet and slosh through the surf to the end of island. It looked much closer than it was..Took a full hour and fifteen minutes there and back. I get stupid and lose track of time easily in the sand. I was rewarded by this pile of rocks and weathered boards at the end of the journey.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Digging Up Bones~ Renae Brabham

pas·sion/'paSHÉ™n/ Noun: Strong and barely controllable emotion. A state or outburst of such emotion. A while back I wrote ~Dead Man's Cell Phone~ http://charlestongrit.com/so-i-called-dead-mans-cell-phone-last-night I find satirical humor in the fact that a death that affected me so little could possibly spring board me to the rungs on the ladder I had deemed impossible. His was a lonely life, lit by the glow of a computer screen and keyboard. Smoke rings circled in dark rooms absent of life except for the lonely beat of one heart. Sometimes loneliness can be the loudest sound in a room. Regrets, children, wives, jobs successes and failures all drowned out by the pounding of the typewriter keys. Boxes filled with ponderings, writings and research tapped out on onion paper with an old manual Smith Corona typewriter going back 50 years, now gather green hues of mold in a musty shed corner. It's what he did, without vision albeit, but it was his passion. He definitely had what is described in passion's definition as "A strong and barely controllable emotion." What he didn't have was the second part of that definition "A state or outburst of such emotion." He didn't type out loud. He expressed himself in selfish silence. I searched my soul to see if the mirror turned inward. Oh yes, there he is, right here in my life, Hell, in my room! There's that briefcase in the corner with a novella written 15 years ago, edges yellowing and saved on a floppy disc. Reams of paper sit waiting to be filled with ink and passion and sent out to publishers. I hid behind screens with a two year old profile pic and typed out to thin air. I fed only the glowing monitor screen and blinking cursor. I didn't share. The boxes of yellowed paper in that shed, his silence and lack of ripples in the oceans' of life opened my cage doors. I pour my heart out on the screen on paper and I let it go. I'm learning that passion is what you shout out loud with your life. It doesn't necessarily mean people are going to like your spillage, but it is how people will identify with you. Everyone has a different way of expressing themselves. Some through brushes, design, anatomy, dance, architecture, music. Others are awesome verbal communicators. And others yet express their passion through their children, families, community services or their sports. Whichever way we choose, it is imperative to the soul to get it out.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Seeker of the Elusive Job

Why yes...I would like to come work for you...I'm punctual, loyal, I work...I write, I sing, I dance, I cook, I don't need handholding.

New Headline: Mayberry Beats TomKat | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

New Headline: Mayberry Beats TomKat | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

An Ode to The Andy Griffith Show

Even though I'm not a purchaser, I read the mag rags while waiting in the check out aisles. I mostly focus on them to keep from grabbing a bag of peanut M & M's. Sadly they are the extent of my pop culture. This past week I noticed that Andy Griffith's death secured a small photo caption in a sidebar of the full cover spread ~How Katie beat Tom~ pertaining to the divorce of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Some would argue their divorce is reality and actually newsworthy in comparison to Andy Griffith who was merely an acclaimed actor for more than half a century, whose name symbolized the fictitious town of Mayberry, NC and it's colorful characters, all of which became the Nirvana of Main Street America living. There is such a little town. Mt. Airy, NC has all the allure of Mayberry RFD, and not by accident. It was Andy Griffith's hometown. One of my favorite fall weekends in NC was spent at the Mayberry Festival. Some of the tributes to Mayberry are; Floyd's City Barber Shop, The Mayberry Inn, Mayberry Bed & Breakfast, Andy's Homeplace Bed & Breakfast, The Andy Griffith Museum, The Andy Griffith Theater, Aunt Bea's Barbeque (intentionally misspelled), Aunt Bee's Room, Wally's Service Station, Bluebird Diner, Old Mayberry Jail, a true to life Barney impersonator, paddy wagon to haul off the town drunk Otis, replica of the police car that Andy drove and a life-sized bronze statue of Andy and Opie headed off for their fishing trip. The Mayberry parade kicks off Mayberry Days honoring it's reigning Pickle Queen, symbolizing Aunt Bee's quest for the elusive Blue Ribbon for her canning, cooking and baking abilities. Despite all it's charms, Andy Griffith dismissed any ties between The Andy Griffith Show and his home town of Mt. Airy for decades. Andy didn't publicly return to his home until 45 years later for a dedication of his namesake highway, where he finally gave the town the validation it deserved. But to me the best part of this story is that Mt. Airy NC didn't wait for his validation to turn into what it was meant to be. The economy of this area was in textiles and furniture, it's commerce dried up and rolled out of town like tumbleweed. Waiting wasn't an option. Mt. Airy, NC could be a ghost town today, if on the map at all weren't it for someone picking up a fragment of hope and building on it. We are always going to be waiting for something aren't we? The shoe to drop, the bottom to fall out, the car to reach 100K miles, the kids to move out, the alarm to go off, the sun to go down, the sun to come up, the fish to get on my line, the phone to ring, , the Mayan calendar to expire, Jesus to come. What kept this town alive was the hope of being that sleepy little fictitious town, where men and boys whistle while they walk with cane poles to fishing holes, life slows down and everyone lives in the moment. Mayberry had it's problems, maybe things weren't all that good. Aunt Bee's pickles were terrible, Goober spouted a few expletives while busting his knuckles in his garage. Andy lost his wife and was a single dad, Aunt Bee was a widow living with her son, Floyd lost at love, Barney was insubordinate at best. Yet we loved everything about all of them. What the show did focus on all that was good. I remember days after 9/11, I found solace in this show. The whistling at the beginning of the Andy Griffith show was a soothing salve on frazzled nerves. A half hour with Andy, Barney and Opie and I am ready to unplug that phone that isn't ringing with the job offer, make that peanut butter sandwich and walk down a dirt road barefoot. I can't imagine screenwriters fabricating a documentary on Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise that would be comparable.