It's what the Doc said...

I went to the gym today.  I go every day except Saturdays and Sundays and some Wednesdays.  Some Wednesdays are "Fritter Wednesdays".  Some friends come over for apple fritters, and we gather around the kitchen table, eat fritters, drink coffee, and offer alternative solutions to the world's problems. They are Dunkin Donuts fritters which aren't  as good as the ones from the coffee house in Oakland, but much closer.  On other days I'm at the gym.  The doc says,"Get exercise!" But the gym I go to isn't like Rocky Balboa's or like the one that girl on TV frequents.  Nope, it doesn't have those finely toned bodies and those guys with rippling muscles and  six packs    I haven't seen those yet. Although visions of finely toned female forms could, or rather would, appeal to my more primitive interests. But, alas, they are not there.  The people I see at the gym are older.  Some of them use walkers and pull little carts with oxygen bottles.

I usually start my routine  on a recumbent fixed bicycle.  It's kind of relaxing and is right in front of one of the many televisions.  All the televisions have subtitles  and no volume, that way the television sound doesn't interfere with 105 the Weasel coming form the overhead speakers. The televisions are nice, but I don't see well enough to read the subtitles, so I read a book instead. The book I'm currently reading is Lewis Grizzard's "Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You or A Good Beer Joint is Hard To Find and Other Facts of Life." I have my own mp3 player. My tastes run from rock to opera. I can usually kick up a notch when listening to Freddie Mercury singing "We Are The Champions".

Sometimes you see some rather amusing things at the gym.  I don't know why the people insist on pushing on the I-beams that hold up the roof.  Don't they know they can't move them.  People have pushed on the iron railings so much that there are now "Keep Off the Railings" signs.  Most people are rather quiet while exercising.  They either listen to their music or engage in quiet conversation with a friend.  Some sing along with their iPods or repeat phrases of a foreign language. But then there are the grunters. They are usually participating in heavy exercise like lifting weights.  They're not soft grunts like those of a constipated  baby, but loud rumbling grunts that vibrate the walls. Does a grunt help move the weight?  I don't know.

I have a simple exercise routine.  After twenty minutes on the exercise bike, I walk two miles. (At one time I walked three miles, but that got in the way of watching reruns of Perry Mason.) Some people walk carrying dumbbells. I don't.  If the good Lord had meant for me to carry dumbbells he would have attached them to my arms.  I just carry my two hundred plus, plus, pounds.  I once did crunches but I gave up the exercise crunches. Captain Crunch is more my style.

Wow, tomorrow's Saturday and I don't have to go to the gym!

Rollin' on the River...but No Tina!

We crossed the 14th street bridge, and I said to Claudette, "There she is" referring to the steamboat, Delta Queen, moored below in the Tennessee River.  "Angie will tell us how to get there," she said. "Angie" is the name I bestowed on the distinctly midwestern voice of the Acura navigation system." Turn left on   Manufacturers Boulevard," said Angie.  A few more turns and we were there, looking at a true paddle wheeler on the river and our lodging for the nest two days.

Since my boyhood days of reading Twain's Tom Sawyer I've had a fascination for riverboats, so when the opportunity came to spend the night on one, how could I say no? And here it was.

The Delta Queen is a steam powered paddlewheel riverboat of 285 feet in length and 58 feet in width, and it weighs over sixteen tons. I was surprised that it was built in 1929 in Scotland and shipped in sections to the U.S. It was assembled in California and plied the Sacramento River delta.  In fact, her sister ship, the Delta King, is moored in Sacramento, California. Somehow that twentieth century history kind of takes away some of the romance of riverboats of film and television.  Those were the days of Yancy Derringer and the Maverick brothers, fancy ladies and fast talking gamblers. 

While in the lounge I heard the sound of ice cubes in glasses and pure Kentucky bourbon being poured. I was looking over the screen of my laptop, which could have been a poker hand, and I thought I heard someone say," Cards, Mister?" The lounge, dining room and lobby rekindle this romantic era with lush period furnishings, crystal chandeliers and lots of polished brass. Did I see Jodie Foster in period dress?

We did not have a thrilling dining experience, the food was good, but not great.  However, the buffet breakfast was a redeeming feature.  I'm a grits 'n' gravy kind of guy and the piles of sausages, bacon, eggs and biscuits we the right thing for me. I think Claudette even found some potatoes on the buffet.  Our cabin had a queen size bed, which eliminated space for a chair.  The dresser was an antique from the Federal period.  One caveat: headroom is at a premium in the shower. 

I enjoyed wandering around the boat, noting the giant 30 ton wood and iron paddlewheel and the calliope. Cabin number 340 had a brass plaque stating that President Jimmy Carter had stayed there. As I wandered about, the sound of Tina Turner singing "Rollin' on the River" echoed through my mind.

For a good video tour of the Delta Queen
Maverick trailer


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On another note: Does anyone have a good name, female, of course, for the voice on my smartphone's navigation ap?

Billy Sang the High Notes

We crossed the Tennessee River on the 14th Street Bridge and turned onto Market Street to find the restaurant for dinner.  It had been a heavy day of sight-seeing, and we were ready for a relaxing dinner. We had input the restaurant's address into the Acura's navigation system as well as the smart phone.  It became rather amusing hearing two female voices giving directions using different descriptions.  I expected that any minute they might get into an argument. The address was 1400 Market street, and we managed to pass it by but took the next left and found ourselves in an alley. I noticed some people in waiter clotting puffing on cigarettes and surmised that we were near an eatery. As we entered Market from the alley I noticed "Station House" on a sign and knew that we had found the place. But, alas, signage said, "For Hotel Registered Hotel Guests Only" and Claudette would not park in an unauthorized space.  Behind the hotel we found a friendly fellow on a golf cart who said that the restaurant was right behind him and that we could park in the lot behind the hotel. 

We alighted and found ourselves near a number of old railroad cars of various vintages. There were dining, pullman, and regular passenger cars.  There was a multi-colored  nineteenth century steam locomotive and a streetcar from the same era as we followed the signs to the Station House. We entered and a pretty girl in black asked if we would follow her to our table.  I actually would have followed her anywhere, but, of course, I was not alone. It was a huge room and quite dark.  I thought to myself, "This is another of those places where they don't want you to see what you are eating". The room had once been the baggage handling area for the railroad station. You could see flashes of polished brass and light from the neon beer signs and stained glass lamp shades.  There was a large bar in front of us with a bandstand behind it, and I thought I heard a bit of "Sweet Home Alabama" from an electric guitar. (This place was looking good!)

Our waiter announced, "Welcome to the Station House, I'm Billy, and I'll be taking care of you". We ordered a couple of sweet iced teas and headed for the all-you-can-eat salad bar.  It wasn't anything fancy but was fresh and with a lot of variety. There were mounds of peel-and-eat shrimp which I noticed most of the blue jeans and baseball capped customers did not eat.  We ordered our entrees: New York strip for me and prime rib for Claudette when Billy returned.  About halfway through our salads one of the waitresses took off her apron, grabbed a microphone, mounted the stage, and commenced to belt out a great version of Aretha Franklin's "Think". In one of the next songs Billy joined the back-up singers and hit the high notes.  For each song selected waiters and waitresses would remove their aprons, mount the stage, perform, and put their aprons back on before grabbing platters of food to serve hungry customers.  Three girls did a great job on Wilson Phillips, "Hold On", and Claudette got serenaded with a version of, "Jailhouse Rock" by the first performer to leave the stage and continue singing.  Billy, our waiter, brought our food and was summoned to the stage to sing lead in the Hues Corporation's "Don't Rock the Boat'.  We heard quite a few songs from the sixties and seventies and the Andrews Sisters' "Sincerely" from the forties in perfect harmony. We finished up the meal with some apple cheesecake.  The band finally played the obiligatory "Chattanooga Choo-Choo", and we had had about as much fun as we could handle.  We left and crossed the bridge for another night on the steamboat. 

 The Station House has the recipe for good fun and good food.

Film Noir or Not?

I've always been a fan of film noir motion pictures and television shows. Actually, I was a fan before I knew what the term film noir meant.   The literal translation is "black film". Usage started in the press by a film critic back in the 1940s who used it to describe a certain kind of film. Fritz Lang was one of the first to use these techniques for telling stories with motion pictures. Is it a genre?  I don't know.  I suppose it depends on who you ask. I say it is. In the 1940's through the 1950's there was a type of film produced that could be recognized by certain characteristics and these characteristics identify film noir... 

• Low light 
• first person voice-overs
• characters of questionable morals
• protagonists who are the unfortunate or downtrodden 
• unique camera angles
• locales are urban 

Many film noir movie's lighting is so low that the actors are frequently seen in strong sidelight.  And, who can forget  how the shade from Venetian blinds gives the effect reminiscent of prison bars. Camera angles are used to create that special mood.  The villain is much more threatening when viewed from a low angle. The "Dutch" or skewed angle is frequently used as well. The voiceover by the main character not only tells you the back story but lets you know what he's thinking.  Most likely the locale is a big city, and the seedy part of it.


Film noir movies are usually cast with seedy characters. The protagonist is most likely a hard-boiled private detective. Many of these scripts are based on pulp fiction of the forties and fifties; characters like Raymond Chandler's Sam Spade or Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer.  A more modern version of this character can be seen as John McClane in the "Die Hard" films, although these are hardly film noir. The character is always flawed, but has a heart and is usually the good guy. The leading lady was hardly the virtuous sort either. The film noir genre ventured into television as well. Such films as "The Maltese Falcon, Double Indemnity, Night of the Hunter, Sunset Boulevard, and D.O.A. really identify the genre.   In recent years film noir techniques have been used successfully by some directors.  Some examples are Rodrigues's "Sin City", Tarenteno's,"Reservoir Dogs"and Mann's, "Collateral".  One of the more interesting uses of the film noir "look" was in Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner".  Science fiction film noir. 

 What's not to like about film noir? The overuse of flashbacks can be annoying and confusing sometimes, but otherwise, make that last shot a double, grab your best broad, and head on down to the Regency for a double feature!

Whose Blood Runs through My Veins?

Pvt. Samuel Oliver Young, CSA

When I was in the eighth grade I became interested in my ancestry. For a boy of that age there was no better discovery that to find that your great-grandfather was a soldier in the army of the Confederate States of America.  I had been a big fan of "The Grey Ghost" television series and imagined that my ancestor had ridden along with Colonel John S. Mosby, the Confederate cavalry legend.  But alas, I first found out that my great-grandfather was a prisoner of war.  And where I come from being caught and imprisoned by the enemy is hardly the stuff heroes are made of.  I sort of lost interest in the project.

Many years later while visiting a local South Carolina cemetery I noticed that my ancestor's grave had the Maltese cross of a C.S.A. veteran and a marker that said, "Company G 14th Regiment of South Carolina Infantry".  Such information would be a great start for my research.  One of the best books I found was James F. Caldwell's "A History of a Brigade of South Carolinians: Known First As Gregg's Brigade and Subsequently As McGowan's Brigade".  This book was a great help in determining which battles my great-grandfather was in.  He was at Chancellorsville where  great "Stonewall" Jackson was mortally wounded and Gettysburg in which over 50,000 men were lost in one day.  His company was in  General A. P. Hill's Second Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia when they chased General George Meade's U. S. Army across the  Rappahannock  River in October, 1863.  This concerned me a bit.  Actually, it concerned me a lot!  My grandfather was born in June of 1864.  How could this be? Who was my great-grandfather? I soldiered on... I continued my research and found many interesting facts about the various battles and the heroics of the combatants. One of the most interesting sources was a collection of volumes of Confederate Military History.  These accounts of the war were written by surviving Confederate general officers of the conflict.  As you would imagine there was an inherent bias in the descriptions of the events they witnessed.  

Some of my extended family members had photographs of my great-grandfather and my grandfather. Did they look alike? Well...they were both bearded  men of Scots-Irish ancestry.

While I was studying the war in something of a chronological manner I found that on the day of Lee's surrender all Confederate soldiers became prisoners of war.  Printing presses were set up at Appomattox and POW paroles printed on the spot.  My ancestor was never in a Federal prison and was not captured in the heat of battle.  

Perhaps the most important fact discovered was in a copy of his pay record I received from the S. C. Dept. of Archives and History.  According to the pay records my great-grandfather had been at home on sick furlough during October, 1863! I know whose blood runs through my veins!