Have you Jaxxonians seen those “PRAY FOR JACKSON” bumper stickers? Have you noticed that they are always on cars with Rankin or, worse, Madison county license plates? Do you fly into a rage every time? No? It’s just me?

Speaking of Jaxxon, you should read/watch this.

PRAY FOR JAXXON!

(Not Jaxxon related, but cool: this New Yorker piece about all the books Art Garfunkel has read. Here’s the list itself.)

If you happened to be watching the 10:00 WLBT news last night — and let’s face it, who wasn’t? — and happened to see the story about how someone slashed the throat of a McDade’s 14 employee yesterday with a “cutting instrument,” you also saw footage of me and my exposed throat blindly walking into said store. (I was the one in the pink shirt with the idea that my neighborhood grocery store is a safe place to go.)

Here’s the rest of the story.

I was also there on Sunday when a man threw a hissy fit in the parking lot and parked his car in the middle of the row, got out, and threw his keys on the ground while yelling at the security guard. Then he apparently recovered and went inside and did his grocery shopping for the week. I kept my eye on him and because of this, I can tell you that his shopping list included the following:

–fish
–milk
–roses

From “Artists Are Helping Restore Old Capitol” by Jerry DeLaughter, Jackson Daily News, March 13, 1960:

Giulano, a talkative Italian, takes tremendous pride in his pride-worthy work. He’s set up his studio (“Pliza don’t call him a shop. Itza stoojoh!”) behind the Old Capitol, and there goes through each delicate step to form the pieces to be used. … Another member of the team who deserves to be called an artist is N.L. McGee. This short, soft-spoken gentleman must take the things Giulano produces and see that they are properly painted….McGee takes a brush, sweeps it across his thinning hair a few times to build up static electricity, then lifts the gold leaf magnetically with the brush.

In the span of a few paragraphs Mr. DeLaughter has captured my heart. Not only does he pen the awesome line “takes tremendous pride in his pride-worthy work,” but he points out that Italians talk funny and that N.L. McGee is short and bald. In the accompanying photo, N.L. McGee appears to be a bit chubby, and you know Jerry DeLaughter was pissed he couldn’t work that in, too.

Bonus: in unrelated news, in the same folder I found a picture of someone named Loyal M. Bearss.

Today I encountered the following actual, human names in a single volume — all of these fine fellows were postmasters of various post offices in Mississippi pre-1860. Every time I wrote down another name I told myself, enough, enough! And then I’d turn the page and another Sampson Botters would be there, waiting for me. (more…)

Sometimes life presents complicated situations that are difficult to figure out. For example, what if you find yourself in jail? And you’re in a town where the only person you know is your estranged wife? And you know she’s going to be pissed to get your call because you’ve been refusing to sign those divorce papers?

I have a solution for you. (more…)

Untitled

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Frank Melton can’t knock down my house with a sledgehammer
Because I’m moving to Peru.

– Sally Nordan

(from Frank Melton: An Anthology, 2007, p. 45)

It’s a dark day for Jackson. The mayor, Frank Melton, was on trial this week for taking a sledgehammer to an alleged crack house in the middle of the night and destroying it. The minors who live with him were directed to do so as well. So were his bodyguards. There were witnesses. Apparently there were pictures. But Melton and his bodyguards were found not guilty on all 11 felony counts.

I think I may have to vomit.

So far the past few days I’ve been at the Oxford Conference for the Book. Yesterday Ellen Douglas was on a panel, and while I would estimate that she is roughly 400 years old, she is also adorable and was wearing a barrette in her hair like a girl. She also kept forgetting she was holding the microphone and would let it slowly fall to the table. Kind of hilarious. This year’s conference is all about Larry Brown, and so today we had a much bigger celebrity on a panel: Debra Winger, who starred in Big Bad Love (originally a book of Larry Brown short stories adapted by her husband, Arliss Howard, who was also on the panel). Here are my notes about Ms. Winger, copied directly from my notebook:

Debra Winger:
just ate three pills.
is wearing a peasant blouse.
has a loud voice.
looks like a normal person.
made shadow puppets on the screen.
is affectionate with her husband.
is thin.
is fidgety. [due to eating of three pills? discuss]
looks younger than you’d think.
plays with her hair a lot.
interrupts everyone.

I’m going into the grocery store and a woman (who has just loaded her things into her car) starts talking to me:

Did you see that guy that just went in? He followed me through the store and then stood outside watching me. I wanted you to be aware of him. You have the most beautiful black hair! Look at your black hair! My grandmother had hair like that. They called her the Belle of Raleigh. She had black, black hair, and fair skin, and green eyes, and they called her the Belle of Raleigh! People still talk about how beautiful she was because she was the only one in town to have that black, black hair. Then my mama came along and had beautiful auburn hair, and then she was the Belle of Raleigh. And then I came along and looked just like my daddy! Have a good one!

Yesterday I got to go tour the Eudora Welty House, which I have to say was fairly amazing. Apparently it is the most authentic literary home in the world — there is only one piece of furniture that isn’t original. The rest of the furniture, artwork, books (oh, the books! there are 5,000 of them!), linens, china, dumb old lady doodads, Maker’s Mark bottles, and candy wrappers (the lady liked her bourbon and her candy) are all Eudora Welty’s. Her little glasses are sitting on a table in the living room. (more…)

Yesterday I ragged on the Clarion-Ledger for getting it wrong. Today I worship at the altar of their mistakes.

From a letter to the editor, published 3/2/07:

Let Melton ride off into the sunset

I hope the citizens of Jackson, whether black or white, will come together and support a good candidate for the next mayor of Jackson.

I worked with the public in northeast Jackson for many years. When Frank Melton began to become a household name, the people would say, “If he runs for mayor, I will vote for him.” How sad that has turned out to be.

Mayor Melton has diarrhea of the month. He needs to rush home and close the door behind himself. He needs to stay there until the next mayor takes office, then he can ride off in the sunset to Tyler, Texas. That, my friend, is the “bottom line.”

Leslie Reedy
Pearl

Thank you, Clarion-Ledger, thank you! Bonus points for Melton needing “to rush home and close the door behind himself.” I would certainly hope he would close the door behind himself in that sort of situation. It’s the polite thing to do.

(P.S. I thought maybe this was just an error online, but the auspicious diarrhea of the month will live on forever, as it is also in the print version. I wonder who’ll get the title next month? Maybe my mom.)

A phone conversation with a very old man who desperately needed to clear his throat:

Sally: …and then I’ll give the information to Mary, who will take care of it for you.
Very Old Phlegmy Man: Oh, do you know Mary?
Sally: No, not personally.
Very Old Phlegmy Man: Oh, well then let me describe her! She’s about 250, 300 pounds —
Sally: (reaches for pen to write all of this down)
Very Old Phlegmy Man: — and is one of the kindest people you’ll ever know. She’s just as black as she can be and very, very intelligent. Mary knows everything. Mary — well, Mary is number one.
Sally: Oh, uh-huh.
Very Old Phlegmy Man: She’s a wonderful person even though she’s black.
Sally: (pause)
Very Old Phlegmy Man: You know I grew up here in Mississippi, with some folks that were half-black, half-white. But I’m white.
(pause)
Very Old Phlegmy Man: Or so they say.
Sally: Ok, well, I’ll take a look and then give you a call back! Bye!

Vendela was right: there is a certain brand of pride that accompanies embarrassment.

Ding dong! The mayor’s been arrested!

It turns out that taking a sledgehammer and busting up a guy’s house is illegal after all, NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE.

Note to non-Jaxxonians: those are actual photos of the actual house that our actual mayor allegedly busted up.

1. I was looking for the location of someone’s family cemetery this morning and came across these oh-some Mississippi town names:

Bonus
Bewelcome
Hustler
Dick

No, really: Dick, Mississippi. I also found a small body of water called Goober Creek. Imagine going to Hustler, Dick, and Goober Creek all in the same day. I think I would die of happiness.

2. When I was going to lunch, I glanced in the backseat of the car parked next to me and saw a child’s carseat with 3 chicken nuggets and a handful of french fries in the bottom of it. Upon closer inspection there were several Sonic bags on the floorboard and a toy truck caked with mud in the back window. Yes!