It's Comin' Up a Cloud : by request

These days, with all the modern marvels of science, it seems to be harder than ever to pinpoint a forecast.

I think that's because the big media groups are forgetting an integral part of their weather prediction arsenal... little old southern pentecostal women.

When I was a child, my brother, my sister and I would spend most of our time at the home of W.C. and Elsie Oval Chrisman... of course WE called them Nanny and Papaw.

We'd spend the days working in the garden and by night time we were too tired to turn on the TV... Even if Nanny had already pointed out the "bank of thunderheads" that were making it look "bad off to the west".

When Nanny noticed these bubbling clouds, it set forth a course of events.

Immediately we would be hurriedly shuffled through the showering process before lightning got close enough to "run in" on us.

While we were showering, Nanny would be in the Kitchen wrapping up some leftover cornbread, some crackers and a big ole hunk of government cheese. (That stuff is SOOOO good)

After we showered, it was off to bed. We always slept with the windows open at night so we could hear any "boogers" that might be lurking... and also because the window unit would "run up the bill"

Just as we had all drifted off to sleep, the curtains would start blowing in... then... that all too familiar flash.

Nanny would creep quietly into all of our rooms and round us up, telling us to whisper so we wouldn't wake Papaw up.

It NEVER failed that on our pitch black journey through the living room my brother, Charles, would kick the coffee table knocking the lid off Nanny's carnival glass candy dish.

"You get them kids back to bed!!! You're making them scared of storms!!!" Papaw would yell from the dark abyss... I assumed it was coming from his room.

Nanny would make us all stop and be quiet for a minute until he fell back asleep... then, the journey began.

We darted out the door and ran across some old boards that Nanny used to make a path across the garden to Granny Tinder's house... all the while, lightning was cracking all around us.

We'd pound on Granny Tinder's door without the slightest fear that we would wake them up... We knew she and Snooks, Nanny's Sister, would already be planning the relay to the storm cellar out back.

Once we got in, we'd line up at the back door to run as a group to the cellar. Then, the phone would ring. "Don't touch that phone, that phone draws lightening" Granny Tinder would say in her gravelly 80 year old voice. I always wondered who would possibly be calling at that time? It was common knowledge that NO ONE in that section of Waldron would go NEAR a phone when it was "coming up a cloud".

Granny, Nanny and Snooks would secure plastic produce bags over their pentecostal buns and around their shoes. Then we'd get Granny to her walker.

WHOOSH! The door flew open, and we were off! We all huddled around Granny as her walker bogged up in the mud.... we knew it would. She would usually abandon it near the old Sycamore tree and just lean on us and we shuffled her toward the cellar.

Nanny would run ahead and open the cellar door. Now I know many of you have been in storm cellars... but I can assure you THIS cellar was unique. It was built by Grandpa Tinder... and it was essentially a hill with a door.

We'd all rush down the stairs and wade through the ankle deep water.... Water that made the cellar "too snaky to play in" according to Nanny... but we didn't think about it as we were fleeing the apocalyptic storm that was baring down on us.

This cellar had old rock walls, a dirt floor (under the water) and boards lined up the edges, supported by cinder blocks to make benches.

Once we got situated, Nanny would light the old kerosene lamps that gave us light... I remember dreading it as that light got brighter... there were so many possible "creepy crawlies" lurking in there... I always expected to see the light reflecting off their red eyes.

One by one, the whole family would arrive to get in the cellar. Nanny would take out the snacks and hand them to us kids... and then the group prayer would start. Granny Tinder never quite understood storms... If we were in the cellar because of a storm in Waldron, Arkansas... she'd be praying for her grand kids in California... that they'd be safe from this terrible storm.

We generally would all stay in there until 15 minutes after the last clap of thunder.

Then we'd go back to Granny's House and fix up the beds so that Nanny, Charles, Donishia and I could stay there... because Papaw ALWAYS locked us out after we left.

Nanny would tell us some stories... "The little red hen"... " The 3 little puggly wugs"... and we'd drift off to sleep.

"rummmmbbbleee!" WAS THAT THUNDER? And the cycle starts again.

Things that keep me up at night.

Still reeling from the high of last night's American Idol... I thought I'd take a break from Adam Bashing to talk about some other important things.

My mind has a tendency to go in several directions at once... I'm sure it's probably ADD or something. Usually, I can mask it throughout the daytime hours... but when night falls... all these thoughts and questions just race through my head.

like...

Do you think that when they first invented the freight train that the first people who heard it told their friends it sounded like a tornado?

On that same topic, when the first bomb was dropped... Did people who saw the site for the first time tell their friends it looked like a Hurricane blew hit the area?

When people say things like "she's ugly as the day is long"... What does that mean? Can you actually measure ugly in time? And what kind of day are we talking about? If they said that in December, she wouldn't be as ugly as she would be in say late June. Or maybe they're talking about an Arctic day... which can be 6 months long... I think we can all agree that 6 months is a whole lot of ugly.

I've also often heard people say things like "He's dumber than a box of rocks"... however, I have actually purchased a large amount of flagstone... and guess what, it was boxed! I mean, it was reinforced with wire and stuff... but there was cardboard that I had to remove. While it was very difficult to remove... I didn't necessarily think it was dumb. I mean, it held all the rocks together so they didn't break. In fact, NOT boxing them would have been dumb.

I wonder how these sayings become part of the English language?

Who WAS the first person who held up their hand and said "talk to the hand" ? And is that the saying in it's purest form? For the sake of the argument lets all assume it actually WAS a drag queen who coined that phrase, as likely it was. Did she try several other versions of that before we got the gem that is "talk to the hand"? Maybe she was on stage and someone started heckling her... so she held up her hand and said "Stop Talking... see the hand?" Then, as she was driving home in her '85 Oldsmobile Regency 98, she recanted the whole event... reenacting it as she drove. " I should have said I'm not listening miss thing, keep on talking to the hand". Then... one of the light bulbs in her beehive wig went on (because she actually didn't turn the battery powered lights woven into her wig off) and she was like "THAT'S IT! TALK TO THE HAND!!!"

And the rest is history.

Ask me about my smile!

OK. Last night's Idol was TRULY great TV.

Let me set the scene. I was recording it so I could watch it later and zip through all the commercials... then, I got the first text from my friend Sandy.

"Don't get too excited Matt is going home." she said. First, I was like "D'OH! Why did I check my text before watching the show? It can't be unseen... IT CAN'T BE UNSEEN!" Then I started analyzing the text. Excited? Why would I be excited? Then, it hit me... I had to stop watching "Little People Big World" mid episode and watch Idol.

When it got to that DELICIOUS moment when Ryan asked that cocky pumped up showgirl which group he should be a part of... THAT showed me what he truly thought of himself.

Then, when Ryan MOVED him to the bottom 3... I teared up a little as my face muscles formed the first true smile I've had in weeks!

Watching the judges as they nearly went into a panic was delightful! But then Randy made that dirty innuendo when Kara said her mouth is always open when it comes to Adam.... Way to take the heat of yourself Jackson... YOU'RE the one who "happened" to "have dinner" at the "same place" as "Adam". (allegedly). By the way, did you notice how Kara stormed off at the end of the show? I would guess heated words and stern glances were exchanged.

Just when I thought this dream couldn't get better.... Kris was REMOVED from the bottom 3. I actually screamed "YESSSSSSSS!". Kind of freaked out the dogs.

Alas, the dream had to come to an end... and Adam is safe for another week, which conveniently is rocker week! ( Could the producers hide their love affair with Adam a little bit better?)

Granted, I am fully aware Adam will likely win. I just wanted someone to give him a reality check... He is NOT Elvis... and he's not Liza Minnelli! I can't be sure WHO or WHAT he is trying to be...but it leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. (Don't go there Randy Jackson)

In the Beginning

Well, now that technology has advanced to such a level that people really needn't talk in person... and in the interest of protecting folks from the dangers of swine flu, I have finally created a blog.

I know that this medium is "sooooo 2003", but I kind of like it. I mean, I have so many random thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis that this will serve as a free form of therapy for me.

Before I get started there are some ground rules. I type things as I would say them. There's liable to be all sorts of grammatical and spelling errors on here... just deal with it.

This blog thing got me thinking about technology and what not. I can still remember the days of "party lines"... no... not the 900 number variety you see advertised on late night TV amidst the Jerry Springer show and ads for Girls Gone Wild (really... where are these girls' parents?). I mean the old fashioned party lines, where several homeowners shared a phone line.

I remember when I was 6 or so, we would pick up my Nanny's phone and listen to the other old women in the neighborhood gossip... They'd hear us and start cussing at us but they always accused us of being someone named Harlen. I have NO idea who Harlen was, but I bet he never understood why so many old women from Waldron, Arkansas were being so mean to him.

Now days, we have things like Facebook and Twitter. The people who invented these seemingly simple services are rolling in money now. That got me thinking. I would like to meld the new with the old. Maybe bring the phone back into play.

OK, so you know how Twitter is like a really short line to tell people what you're doing? I'm going to start a new service where you can dial all your friend's numbers at one time... sort of an updated party line. But here's the catch... the call can only last like 15 seconds... I mean, people are busy.... so you just have time to quickly shout something like "I'M WALKING THE DOG!!!' or "IT'S NOT MY BABY!!!" ... you know, simple things really. Then the phone cuts off. I'm thinking of calling it Phwitter or maybe Twone Call.... it's still a work in progress but you get the idea.

I guess I just miss the days of actual human interaction. When people would get dressed up and drive over to spend the afternoon with family. There would always be a tray of cookies or maybe a nice bundt cake... and a percolator full of coffee, which would be served in brightly colored melamine cups.

Now days, if family shows up at your door your more likely to be like "crap, is the garage door up or down?" Do they know I'm here? I'll just be really quiet until they leave." Then, once they're gone... you slap yourself when you realize you could have saved the postage on that Mother's Day card if you'd just have handed it to your mom before she drove off.

Maybe I'm just projecting on that last one... but my point is that Technology should be used to IMPROVE our connections... not replace them.