Tuesday


14
Jul 26

Evening sounds

Poison ivy update: today marks three weeks from my careless self-exposure. Tomorrow marks three weeks from the first itchy symptoms. I am much improved — which is to say healing, not healed. Eventually I worked it out to alternating between Calamine and cortisol. I also had a few very long oatmeal bath soaks. Now, my skin is mostly dry, itchy, flaky, or some combination.

Also, I found some on a tree while puttering about the yard. I dealt with that one in a much more sensible manner.

In short, I will survive, but the ivy probably will too.

The actual poison ivy vines I plucked, meanwhile, have surely returned by now.

Enjoy a nice little solo ride this evening. My lovely bride was off doing a workout elsewhere and that let me visit some lovely little roads at my own pace.

I made some new sheep friends. They couldn’t even be bothered to look up as I soft pedaled past their evening graze.

The corn is coming along nicely. Took me three tries to get this photo, and it wasn’t quite what I wanted.

The chores never end in farm country. I wonder what else this guy could be doing right now. I wonder if he’d rather be pedaling around, like me. I think most people would rather be riding a bike than doing evening work. Then again, combines aren’t connected to bikes.

Sometime after that I dropped a water bottle — a fate worse than dehydration. So I had to turn around and fetch it. Stop, put your foot down, wiggle the bike around and coast a few feet the other direction. Then bend waaaaay over to the ground without hurting yourself. And then you stab yourself with greasy gears.

I have joked that I should just get that as a tattoo and save myself some time. I won’t, but then again it has been a while since I gave myself the ol’ grease tattoo, too.

I wore a new jersey today, a loose fitting number, which was perfect for one of those days when it didn’t matter that everything clung to me. And on the back of the tag …

Sure, now you tell me. Good thing it fit.

It’s actually too big, but I took that tag off.

One last clip from the Guster show, last Friday. Their alt-breakthrough, now 28 years old (that was a great time to be listening to 99X), somehow, fell off the live show list for a long time. I guess you get tired of playing the same things every night at some point. Also, the ping pong balls were probably becoming a problem. (People used to throw them onto the stage at the end of the song. It makes sense with the song, moreso than having to bring the things into venues, I’m sure.) Also, you have other things you want to play. Or maybe you’re just looking for ways to do old things. I think they called this version Airport Song 2000 for a while. It has an entirely different feel.

  
I wonder if they’ll have another re-instrumentation for the 30th in 2028.

Anyway, great show Friday night. I’ll put up a little clip of a DMB song from Saturday’s show tomorrow. Also, we’ll be talking about generators.


7
Jul 26

A read to chew on

I bought this book online last summer and finally got around to reading it. By the time I finished the foreword I was already thinking of who I could get to read this with me. I got one taker. The rest, frankly, were missing out. Carry Me Home is a book about home, and every page is about a place I know. Sometimes it’s about a person I’ve heard about, or a person I reported on.

I’m learning all over the place. I think I also said that right from the beginning, and I’ve said it throughout. Also, I’m still reading.

Diane McWhorter grew up during the Civil Rights Movement era in Birmingham, which is to say she was a child and it was above her head at that moment in her life. She grew up over the mountain, which is to further say about six miles and a whole culture away. None of this is a criticism. We are from where we are from, and she would later spend 20 y ears on this book trying to understand her place, her people, and her father. Some of that she gets to better than others in this book, which won (and deservedly so) the Pulitzer Prize.

It’s a bit clunky sometimes, a bit dense sometimes, but it is a terrific and eye-opening read. I can’t recommend it enough.

Currently reading “Carry Me Home Birmingham, Alabama: The Climactic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution,” by Diane McWhorter

www.simonandschuster.com/books/Carry-…

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 2, 2026 at 9:32 PM

McWhorter was thorough and unsparing.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 2, 2026 at 9:59 PM

Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth is at the center of all of this, as he should be. A fascinating, critically important leader. He was assaulted, bombed, beaten and while creating a Movement.

He also had a saying,“If the Klan don’t get you, the police will; and if the police don’t get you, the courts will.”

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 2, 2026 at 9:59 PM

This tale is full of curious and odd and frustrating little circular ironies. That was by design, of course, even on an ad hoc basis.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 5, 2026 at 12:36 PM

This part fascinates. I had never heard of this audit. (I mean, why would you?)

But growing up and working there, I’d always heard people stewing in that outside perspective and wondering how to overcome it.

Smyer commissioned this, waited ages for it, and then fired the firm that sent this in.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 5, 2026 at 1:19 PM

If it feels familiar that’s because it has been used before. If it has been used before and used again that means it works.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 6, 2026 at 4:47 PM

John Temple Graves II considered himself “a professional southerner” which had a particular cheerleader meaning at the time.

time.com/archive/6604…

He was a regionally syndicated morning columnist for a while, but found his copy dated by the afternoon. The timing of his death was something.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 6, 2026 at 4:56 PM

Sometimes it’s just human and wryly funny.

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— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith.org) July 7, 2026 at 1:12 PM

I’m coming to parts of the story that more regularly entered into the wider historical context. This has long since become a story that reminds readers that the compression of history necessarily leaves so much of the story on the sidelines. Soon, we’ll get to the parts that everyone remembers, the Children’s Crusade and the Sixteenth Street Church bombing, and so on. Almost with every page now I’m wondering if the next person that is introduced will be someone that I met or knew or covered. The last one, for certain, is going to happen.

It’s a great book. I’m learning all over the place.


30
Jun 26

Everything about this post is a classic, even the cliches

I rode my 25-mile time trial route today. This is the 13th time I’ve done this route, and that doesn’t matter. My time today was right in the middle of the 13 times, and that doesn’t matter. Top half by 16 seconds, and that doesn’t mean anything. It could have been the wind or a little better fueling or I just sat up a few seconds earlier on one day than the other. It doesn’t matter.

Maybe I took one less photograph this day than that slightly slower day that separates the two halves of the sample.

That’s about halfway through the route. I just like the way the road dips into those trees, how they carve a bit of darkness out of the brightness of day. Each time I’m on that road I imagine the next little bit to be something like spelunking on wheels, but it’s just a patch of trees, a good canopy that will soon open back up to the sky. Too soon, on some days, like today.

It is official, heat is hot, and right now heat is bad. Also, it’s going to get hotter.

When your skin is under siege — and urushiol is a siege — heat isn’t especially pleasant. The cab of this tractor is air conditioned.

My bicycle is not. But maybe if I’d gone faster? Maybe if today’s ride had found its way to the top of the spreadsheet.

May as well start digging out from this stack of CDs I’m under. I was doing something here I called the Re-Listening Project, where I was playing all of my old CDs in the order of their acquisition. More or less. When last we did this I was in a batch of CDs that replaced some that had been stolen. It’s a weird bit of decades old nonsense that serves only to confuse me for something that only interests me, but, hey, my name is at the top of the site. Also, I’m probably way behind in this little effort which, again, is a singular indulgence. The point was to put a few songs from each disc here, maybe think up something interesting about them. This never was a review, because no one needs more of those.

At this point, I’m just trying to take some discs out of the Re-Listen To Do pile and put them back in the old books. It’s a big stack.

Daylight was Duncan Sheik’s third studio album. (He’s up to nine, now.) It was released in 2002, and I probably bought this soon after. (Shame on me for not clearly remembering that detail.)

This was a single, and found its way into a movie, a teen comedy few remember.

This one sounds romantic. Has great imagery. And even the narrator knows that it is in no way true. It was, and remains, my favorite song on the album.

For a long time I played this CD on my way into the studio, because singing along, I thought, might just lower my speaking tone a bit for the day. And during that time part of this song fit the vibe. A sarcastic sing-along was, I thought, just one of the most clever things you could do in a deep cut.

There might have been a breakup right around that time.

The next one is Deuces Wild, B.B. King’s thirty-fifth studio album, which was released in 1997. Each song features a second musician, and so this was one those homage-slash-gimmick records. Also, it is quite good. With appearances by Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Mick Hucknall, Bonnie Raitt, D’Angelo, Jools Holland, Dr. John, Marty Stuart, Dionne Warwick, Paul Carrack, The Rolling Stones, Zucchero, and David Gilmour how could it not be great?

Also, it had these three tracks, which are automatic favorites for a variety of reasons. The first being Tracy Chapman, because Tracy Chapman is absolute dynamite in everything she does.

And this one, because the idea of Heavy D seducing Lucille is too hilarious to overlook. Plus, the entire concept is fun. There’s just enough mirth in King’s voice to allow this to be nearly timeless.

Speaking of. This song was released in 1960. King played it as far back as 1967, at least. King and Willie Nelson did it way back in 1984, at least. As a duet, the two of them have had it in their repertoire since 1984 at the very least.

I remember hearing this track for the first time and thinking it felt like something as a sad dirge. This could be the last time and all of that. But King played for another 17 glorious years after this was released. I’d been in crowds at concerts where the audience had serenaded Willie Nelson on his birthday. More than once, as I recall. And he marked his 90th birthday, in 2023, with two concerts at the Hollywood Bowl. He’s timeless, so is King. So is this. Enjoy the man hailed as the single most important electric guitarist of the last half of the 20th century and one of the greatest troubadours and musician of his, this, or any generation.

That song is 66 years old, and a timeless treasure. Willie Nelson was just 26 or 27 when he wrote it on the road. Looking back, I don’t even think I could understand, truly understand, the song at that age. While it is amazing that he could right something that would persist as this has, we’re all just fortunate that it has stuck around for each of us, when we’re ready.

And, with that, I am something like 35 discs behind.


23
Jun 26

In the weeds

We had an electrician out today. His job was to address something brought up by a previous electrician. I wish the first guy was still here, instead. But you get what you get. Also, the issue did not get addressed. But, my, how we can pass the buck.

The good news, I suppose, is that I discovered a whole lot of weeding to do. I pulled up stuff for hours, making a considerable dent, and filling the last of my yard bags. I need to buy more. So that I may do more weeding.

Some people find that relaxing, I suppose, but I have other pursuits. Or I did, before today.

Anyway, that was the biggest part of the day. Here’s a little video I shot in South Africa. However short it is, it is better than my discussing the root systems of the various things I encountered today.

  

I was, initially, a bit ambivalent about the idea of a safari, but found myself won over on the first day. The views were lovely, the animals we encountered were outstanding and each one felt unique, and our guide was top notch. The entire experience was stress free, aside from early morning wake ups. If we ever find ourselves in South Africa again, and going on a safari again, it’ll be with Wild Wings. If you’re considering doing such a thing, do it. And book it with Wild Wings. They were terrific.


16
Jun 26

Reunited with the kitties

We arrived last night, having been American again for about 55 hours. I find that the older I get the more time I need to reset. At this rate, my whole reset thing may take months. Sometimes circumstances don’t allow, though, which is probably for the best.

Anyway, we’re at my in-laws, picking up the kitties. They’ve had a great time here. Poseidon adjusted to our return pretty easily and, by today, he’s been eager for pets and to tell us about the fun he’s had.

He’s easy to win over. Give him a little attention, a good pet or two, and all is forgiven, or you’ll become famous friends.

Phoebe, on the other hand, takes a little more time. She has a lot of closets and hiding places here and she’s not ready to forgive us just yet.

She’ll come around. I’ve learned that you just have to let her do it in her own time.

And, in the meantime, I helped out a little bit. My mother-in-law has this huge holly and it needed some trimming. So I brought the shears and the pruners and a few other things and went to it this morning. There’s a bird nest in the back, but no one was home. Happily, I was able to leave it undisturbed. I cut back limbs from the house, cleared a path to the water spigot and cleaned up around the dryer vent. It was a productive morning. Here it is before the final trim.

Only after that did she come out and tell me the story of the bush. It was a special gift, and I’m glad I didn’t hear all of the details beforehand, I might not have cut a single leaf off of the thing.

My lovely bride went fishing with her father today. So after I did my part helping out around here, I petted Poe and read awhile. My mother-in-law and I went out for dinner. I drove us to one of their regular haunts and she told everyone she knew there that she’d traded in for a newer model. Had a delicious burger, lovely conversation, and now back here, waiting to hear tall tales of the big one that got away.