Boys and Girls in America

I'm appalled it has taken me 26 years, 2 months and 12 days to finally read On the Road. I won't retread any old ground that has previously been well traveled by literary critics in the 50 plus years since the publication of On the Road, instead I will simply recommend you read this cornerstone of American literature. This is one of those works where we, the readers, find ourselves in one of the main characters, or we recognize we could never be one of them, but still we find inspiration in these men of a lost generation (not to Hemingway's The Lost Generation). I will do my best to work in generalities for those of us who have not had the pleasure of reading the work of 'ol Jack.

I wrote that initial paragraph over a week ago. So many things have changed in this time, and those changes have occurred primarily within the confines of my own mind. I really just need to get some quick and dirty posting here to get myself back in the blog-a-verse. I had a long pedantic Kerouac rant on tap at some point, but I've lost that train of that 79 beers ago. I have decided to just adopt the 'ol Jack lifestyle...the only thing I lack is a piece of classic American literature and then its one way train to booze town.

Don't ask me what comes after today.

The Righteous Blog

Trying to keep focused on the righteous blog as well as focus my eyesight enough to read the words I am typing.

How awesome does it feel to finally hear a song that mentions some drug the singer has taken and be able to say "Yeah! I've totally done that too Patterson Hood!" It's not a awesome as I had hoped. I continue to have no frame of reference for rap "party" songs.

This blog has officially returned, in lieu of making a triumphant return post, let's outline the future of this noble pursuit. I will write about the mundane details of a twenty-something, having an early life crisis living in his hometown and trending steeply towards alcoholism. At times I will make clear and cogent points about a wide range of topics and the remainder of my time will be dedicated to angry, drunken ramblings. You're welcome.

Rebound.

Things have certainly been on the upswing here in Surprising Suffolk. Let us recount the many things that have gone right in recent weeks through no fault of my own. As stated in my previous post I landed a fairly well paying job with the City of Suffolk that I applied for on a limb. The city government has become warm, inviting womb of employment that I return to when the rest of the world's businesses turn their backs on me. I hope that perhaps this one day will pay dividends in the form of a position that has a long title, short hours, free time and money by the boat load. As many of us know, no local government job promises many in large stacks, but a relative increase is all this guy looks for. As my brother and I have discussed recently is how much we need to survive. He has published his own list of essentials over on the militant wing of the Johnson family blogs, so I will spare you those details. It goes without saying that I am slightly more interested in material goods than my brother who lives in his truck, but I would like to defend my inclusion of a large television that receives satellite feeds of all major sporting events to my list of necessities. No, I don't think I will defend it. This is my list after all. I want a big ass TV that plays some fashion of football every hour of every day, no matter the season.
Alas, dear friends, I have just received a call from the patriarch who has invited me to a lunch of Mexican deliciousness. For those of you who know, and even those that don't, this is not an opportunity one passes up casually.

Salt of the Earth

For those of you who were unaware, I now occupy a new position with the grand old City of Suffolk. My title is something along the lines of Advisor to the Tourism Department. This means very little, except that unlike my previous jobs with the Parks and Rec Department, I have a desk, phone number, computer, and office (with window!) all to myself. Mostly. I am the only man that exists in this whacky land of estrogen fueled cackling and merry-making (very little actual work). The ladies that preceded me here have an unofficial "mascot". It is a chihuahua named Peanut. This varmit is about the size of my left foot, which is a rather serendipitous coincidence since I plan on using said foot to boot it from the third floor of the office building. A big plus to this job is the sweet office located 2 minutes from my house in downtown Suffolk. It is a restored historic home from the early 1800s and has wonderful fireplaces and architecture. Alas, my fireplace is occupied by the company safe, which is both a source of pride and concern. My office was cleaning up nicely until it was decided that a Christmas tree would be necessary in the office to promote seasonal cheer and tourism, apparently. Well, I was the only person qualified to connect the lights on our tree, which was admittedly a difficult procedure. The box for this piece of evergreen Christmas spirit now occupies most of the area where my chair used to roll behind my desk. This unfortunate setback has not damped my spirits however. What exactly did I accomplish today to further Suffolk tourism you may ask? I myself am not certain. I did order some brochures and tried to convince people to check out the Peanut Capital of the World. Beyond that, who knows. All I know for certain is, "It's a good time to be in Suffolk!"

Suffolk News Herald

Yesterday's front page was dedicated to a fire that broke out in the macademia nut roaster at the Planter's Peanuts factory.

My New Blog

My new blog will be dedicated to crappy concert reviews of shows I attend and to my rambling thoughts on a hick town that I should have moved away from years ago.

Surprising Suffolk

Suffolk, Virginia is a city on the rebound. She is now proudly referenced as a city by this author after being officially titled as such for 35 years. However, it was not until my most recent return to the place of my birth that I felt necessary to refer to it as such. Main Street is lined with bright restored homes, the leisurely lunch break wanderers and the occasional shopper. Most of the the bustle comes from the roofs overhead where the city's facelift continues on countless structures left hollow by years of misuse. As George Clooney once declared in the final scene of Oh, Brother Where Art Thou?, "Yessir, we are indeed heading into a veritable age of reason". Such praise might be a little lofty at this stage in development so I instead defer to my dear brother in describing Suffolk's progress. One morning when I picked up that morning's Suffolk News Herald I discovered that he had penned over the front page, which declared the erection of our new Wal-Mart Supercenter, the phrase "Livin' in the Future!" While our city is not started running on solar panels and electric cars we have encountered the future by embracing the past. Finally, the powers-that-be have realized that Surprising Suffolk will never be the new frontier of culture and trippy internet cafes. We as a people have come to realize what we are, simpletons. Yes, I include myself in that accurate estimation of 80,00 individuals. We are The Moose where my grandfather and dad have a table and names, we are Baron's Pub where the last ten years of my high school's alumni gathers to drink away the dramatized boredom of our fair city and we are the Annual PEanut Fest that once won a legal battle against the Dixie Chicks because the Chicks became famous and refused to play at such a redneck, two bit festival in a long forgotten town. Yes, the Dixie Chicks are our bitches, and I am here to tell you why.

In Suffolk, winning isn't everything, yet it is at the same time. Also, everyone knows and shares the gleeful news when you are losing. The seedy details make Blue Velvet feel like a warm down blanket you would snuggle up with at night. Although they are tiny seedy details, they are strewn about like the soy seeds which fuel this blessed agricultural economy. In the minds and mouths of our citizens these seeds blossom into rows upon rows of stories that you can could drive past for hours without ever leaving the sprawling city limits.