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December 14, 2007

Meanwhile, back in the saddle… Chill afternoon here in Downtown Hardy. Big day in Eads, Fishertown, yesterday. Just east of Memphis. Garret said I trimmed 32 trees. There were red oaks, elm, blackjack oak, post oak, hackberry, all of these were decent sized shade trees, then I did numerous loblolly pine of smallish size, on to numerous pear, crepe myrtle, several variety holly and juniper. Short tough week shuts down nicely as I head to Willa Ford’s warm fire. Dry heat. Rib’s from Stan’s Barbeque in Imboden. Last night it was an awesome Johnny Cash type band at the Blues City Band Box. Beale Street was a rockin up and down, ya’ll. Starbucks. Petco. Ruby Tuesday. These are some places we frequented. Coyote Ugly sucked. Looks like an Oklahoma trip in the immediate works. Better pack some long johns. Rebelriver.com—a warm place.

December 12, 2007 

Nice rainy evening here in greater Memphis. We got the gnarly leaning oak done. One yard light the only victim. Yard lights should be outlawed. I do not like them. They complicate my mind, I have a low tolerance for complication. The simple life. We got wet, lined up some January jobs, and are set for a massive trimming day tomorrow. I may head to Oklahoma too, help folks hit by the ice storm. That’s a strong probability, gotta run

December 11, 2007

Nice Memphis night. A few games of pool, meeting folks with family in the Ozarks. Lot’s of that out there I imagine. Everbody’s folks went west. I got in the trees today in a big way. Three large shade elms in Cordova over the house or fence. Two large gum, over the house and parking. Tall dead gum gone now. Tomorrow it’s a tall dead red oak in Germantown. Rebel Tree Care—insurance certificate. We’ll finish the week strong out in Eads, plenty of trimming out there. I’m also picking up work for January. Life rocks when you do proper pruning. Proper pruning is important. So is proper mulching. Little things seem insignificant when you are a novice. Journal Veterans know the power of care.

            It just irks me when wise plans are thwarted by simple ignorance. You don’t pile mulch up on the trunk to stop Bermuda grass. Hacking trees any old way makes a huge difference down the line. Tree services should put in writing that all pruning shall be done in accordance to ANSI A300 tree pruning standard.

            Welcome Memphis Tennesse, to Rebelriver.com.

December 9, 2007

Icy rain. I was headed to Memphis tomorrow, looks like that’s off for another day. I have many trees to trim in Tennessee. Being the best for twenty years in Cherokee Village doesn’t really mean anything. Substandard work is often rewarded. Go figure. And UPS sucks. Kicking ass for them fifteen years means nothing. They called me a couple weeks ago, be ready. I found out a couple of days ago they hired someone else. Cheating bitches. Just kidding, it’s a relief really, now I can make in one day trimming trees more than a month of UPS. Another thing, they hired me in 88 for ten dollars an hour. I never made that. Whatever. Temporary workers should expect disrespect these days, even proven ones. I find myself quite impatient with most people I hire.

            Remember, science has proven that proper pruning cuts are a major factor in the health and safety of a tree. Once a cut is made, that record is permanent. Proof of substandard work by professionals is all around us. I’m talking about “flush” cuts. Industry professionals agree this improper cut is a common mistake. This usually occurs in tree services hurrying to make better money per hour, “production” type outfits concerned with wrapping up the agreed payment and moving to another job. Another time saver is leaving “stubs.” Improper power line maintenance is similar this substandard method rampant for years in residential work. Stubs and “topping” are faulty methods, proven so by science, and rarely if ever approved by a legitimate tree service. Climbing spikes are to be used only for removals. This method of climbing should rarely if ever be used to pruned trees. Violations are more frequent in the south I think, some progressive towns and New England seem to have a handle on substandard work. Has Rebel Tree Care ever violated standards? Often a client will request over pruning a tree, usually for a better view, and I will take calculated risks. The only topping job I’ve ever done I supplied three written notices of non-recommendation. I have never used spikes to trim, and each of the thousands of cuts I make yearly to trees in the Cherokee Village and Memphis area are made with care and diligence. I literally touch and feel trees, branch and trunk collars are usually easy to read. Old callous and scarring caused by abuse, cancerous growths started by easily preventable treatments, and grasses, erosion, or other unnatural occurrences in the root zone of the tree complicate an Arborist’s decisions.

            So much for the Opus. Time to jam.

December 5, 2007 

Warm fire. Chillin. Watching comedy, sports… TV. I hate commercials. I don’t want to be a hater, but the mold is cast in favor of commerce. Corporations tell Americans how to be, many other countries admire our freedoms and luxury. Some hail us as the great Satan, all they know is we rained orange hell fire on their houses. We are greedy arrogant and Status valued, other countries strive for that. Some just want a baloney sandwich. One time when I was a kid I put a piece of cold boloney on my shaved head and drove my tricycle in a circle on the carport until my mother stopped me. I guess she knew I was getting dizzy. And that shaved head thing, my eyebrows are still patchy.

            Massive mountain bike trips yesterday and today. Experiments of over twenty miles. Gellin. Stark forest over head, boulders strewn on leaf covered slopes of midsize oak. Shock of sycamore in roadside glades, sage bogs deep in a valley. Deer race along, choosing fence crossings carefully. Cold cold chill wind blasts. Quail coveys explode from a close fence line. The mail man may be the only vehicle I see this morning. Crows take casual interest a moment, horses prance alongside a while. Creek bottoms wind away. Did the Old Cherokee use this valley? Certainly Mill Creek, which runs through Sitka and off to Strawberry River, must have had important functions for the network. It’s name suggests heavy use floating logs in later years.

            So lead off. Fake bunt. Be the ball. Hit yourself. Iverson and Kobe are about to duel, and I’m gonna jam Mr. Player. Deer meat on tap, hot fire, gold fish, parrots, Geezer…Rebelriver.com…A good place.

December 3, 2007

Warm fire at Willa Ford.  Dry heat. But leave my sex life out of this. I get plenty. Sometimes. That’s what the police report says anyhow. Go figure. Beaver tales aplenty. Bring up my shortcomings Edith. No more cosmopolitan magazine for you. ERA, INXS, SUV, ASAP, ESP, ESPN, MTV, OK, Pat I wanna buy Vanna a vodka and I’ll take a P. Ever meet that guy, “I don’t drink. Well, just beer.” What he means is, “I drink. Two cases of beer every day and night.” Regularity. Try it. Ever see that commercial? Always a wise choice. Jack Daniels or whatever. Try watching a sporting event on television without a barrage a binge boozing enticements. Rebel river.com—what happens here gets out.

            Now the change to winter begins. Nights getting colder. Osprey eagles are visible all along inland creeks. Beautiful white and gray raptors. I guess they hit the woods for squirrel, fields for rabbit and quail. I’ve seen Old Cherokee ruins, developed new understanding of the escape and evasion techniques used by Old Cherokee here in Osage territory. Strawberry is the last Ozark River before White River traveling south. The interchange between river and cliff, trail and creek, connection of watersheds as Cherokee moved across the Southern Territory of Osage over a period of 150 years from 1721 to about 1860. Delaware and Shawnee joined, great leaders such as Shawnee seer Tecumseh sought a union of red tribes west of the Mississippi River. Just as this great Red nation was forming, with meetings of many tribes right here in Sharp County, and a vast network of family and clan stretching east to Kentucky and deeper still to Alabama, the earthquakes of 1811(The little understood New Madrid Earthquakes) stuck with devastating force. Intra tribal dissension in the immediately following years allowed whites to again dominate, The Trail of Tears soon followed, the Osage and Cherokee were to squabble over pieces of White River and Oklahoma for many years.

November 30, 2007

Chill Friday morning. Frosty. I’ve been hammering the back roads on my Trek, chasing hot chicks on horses. They pass me uphills, I pass them on downhills. If I make it to Willa Ford’s and back tonight and tomorrow It’ll put me up over 150 miles for the week. I’ve planted barberry shrubs, I’ve cleaned up old storm damage. Still waiting for the UPS call, for I will spring into action like a superhero, delivering the goods through rain and sleet yo. Looking forward to December, my stranglehold on November is lessening as the old boy has a  little fight left. I’m getting the good life. Sweet.

            The Democrat/Gazzette had an article yesterday about the lack of water quality inspectors. So many natural gas mines are opening in Northwest Arkansas that inspectors will never keep up. This does not bode well for existing problems. Looks like developers will have free reign to dump their dirt into the rivers. Muddy the waters. They’ll be dead before it affects the market.

            Look for my ad in the Villager. Peace.

November 26, 2007

Hey now. Black night holds chill promise. Hard mountain bike ride in the Ozarks done. I chased horse and rider over hill and dale. Spent myself. Scrub oak and wet gravel roads. I remember when they poisoned the forest. An airplane sprayed vile strong spit, I was hit with facefulls as a small child standing where I now live. I guess it was DDT. Anyway it killed twenty or thirty thousand acres of oak. The land burned a decade. Creeks that used to sport deep pool and long hole dried up. Now the oaks are coming back, squirrels are plentiful where there were none. Hybrids. Red and Gray. All the way. North and South. Yankees with a cause. Way well tonight, I cooked some birds. I have a fire. I feel the drain from my ride. Tomorrow will present a new challenge. Perhaps we will find Spring River.

            Life is cool. Even if life sux, life is cool, cause things that suck are cool. So have a glass of whine, Hardly Smashed Flat Area, a can of fear, a bottle of to kill ya. Kill the pain, forget the shortcomings and failures, then dwell on it. Breathing hard, mind exploding, scream… Haha, funny joke again, take me serious! Drink heavily kids, the ruby yacht only cruises your harbor once unless you’re a Bush.

GEEZER IN CORDOVA

November 22, 2007

Meanwhile, back at the ranch… Skate rides motocross like a banshee. Playstation. He’s killing hookers and chopping other riders to bits. I told him to use the cattle prod. Willa keeps a warm house, all is well. Bono Thanksgiving setting well. Way well. Serenity rules. But Geezer reacquainted himself with some road kill. Smelly bitch.

            Back to piddling and vehement maintenance this Friday. Riding hard, kicking it this winter. I am truly thankful. I am blessed many ways, but who’s counting? The only thing I count is my chickens before they hatch. I look gift horses in the mouth, and I begin long journeys with multiple steps. I put my pants on two legs at a time cause every cat has it’s night. This ain’t no pose-o-rama chump. Check your head.

November 21, 2007

Quiet night in the inner city. Silence reigns in this wee hour. Huge day in Cordova and Eads. I trimmed holly, cherry, crepe myrtle, pecan, willow oak, flowering crabapple, probably more this morning. Then it was removing cypress, leyland, they were diseased, and persimmon, I had no idea they made dogs puke on carpet. Then it was a mountain bike jam to Beale, and I pulled up lame with a flat just as I arrived. After all the crab legs I could eat and a few big ass beers I caught a taxi. Chocolate milk now rules, serenity overwhelms as the day sinks in. Another jam tomorrow to look at some jobs, then family dinner Thursday in Bono. Life rocks, ya’ll. And then you live. I can’t wait to show you a photo of four pretty women and an incredible large screen. Gotta go.

Rain. Hard and steady rain this dawn. It began slow as Geezer and I snoozed in the van. Infrequent acorns falling increases with steady rain drops. Quickly frequencies increased, full on rain, an inch in just over an hour. I’m thinking about packing it in till January. Stoking the fire in Highland. Yesterday was insane, I’m a missed potassium pill from severe charly horses. Biceps. Hammy. Gotta look at something south of the loop, at least it’ll be against the grain of traffic. Only a Bono thanksgiving could top the crab from last night. I can still smell it on me occasionally. Need a shower. Geezer stands in the rain.

Dusk in Jonesboro hosts vicious rain. Terrible winds moan, shaking the van, tossing from different directions making me nervous. Tornadoes don’t hit malls do they? There is in fact a tornado warning for the area. Hard wind bursts slam, again and again gusts of tropical storm strength sweep the parking lot of Bed Bath and Beyond. Across the way at Hot Wired the KFIN van flashes strobes, emergency vehicles scurry about, and the city twinkles in a complicated morse code that only aliens from planet Xenox can decipher. Moron that later. Geezer got a bath!

            Solid week of work lined up in Memphis for after Christmas. Dozens of trees to trim, some removals. Good solid Rebel Tree Care. I’ll be more than ready after the UPS gig. Ah, rebelriver.com. Just right. So all you cattle ranchers read up on some Best Management Practices instead of finding ways to deny your role in water purity. Contractors and builders, same thing, educate yourselves on Best Management Practices, implement erosion and sediment controls at each phase of the project. Lastly loggers, step softly, read and implement Best Management Practices, be truly selective in your repeated rape of the watersheds.

            Some of my best friends are ranchers, developers, loggers, and republicans. I don’t hold these things against them, just as I don’t hold a homeowners poor choice of substandard tree service against them. But for the grace of God there go I. And I do. The forest has chosen me to speak for it. Mother Earth has adopted me to shout and rage against the greed machine, the war mongers and the smug hypocrite status quo. So watch out ya’ll rebelriver.com is comin’. And I have an attitude.

November 19, 2007

Warm night in Cordova. I stopped off in Jonesboro, trimming holly, many variety, and redbud. Also removing poke and redbud. Poke is cool. Tall purple stems. A little poke does a body good. Beale street was jumping this rush hour, lovely Lubitska on the job at Blues City Café. Geezer got a rib! I went to talk to Silky’s wife about hiring MIKE for the patio gig next spring, but she was out. I was double parked so had to bounce. Looks like the Grizzly’s were getting ready to take on Seattle tonight. Tired.

            I’ll probably take a jam on the mountain bike late this evening. Maybe do errands on it tomorrow. The city bustles, slowly slowing. I’ll probably do the same thing I do at home, go to Wal-Mart.

            Looked at a hairy dead red oak. If I get the job, the trip will profit. My knees will shake aloft. Using certain techniques will lessen the risk. But the difficulty will remain high. A skilled groundman would sure come in handy right now. Tired. Need to relax a while before I jam. Peace.

November 17, 2007

Bright warm Saturday here in Highland. I’ve been doing small jobs all week, and riding hard, chasing horses up and down these rough Ozark hills. I’ve found some new Cherokee Indian places, places where placid lakes must have held fine long water, and ravines heavy with old boulders still clean from constant cascade of waterfalls in the day.

            Off to Memphis Monday, I should be able to post Journal updates from there this time. I’m gonna ride hard, keep honing the edge, and I’ll play Mr. Player(my acoustic bass). I’ve got good work, good help, good equipment, good outlook, it’s all good.

            Outside ladybugs attack by the thousands. Their bites cause no discomfort unless you are an aphid. Ladybugs are good for plants. I like ladybugs. Ladybugs are pretty.

            Leaves continue to accumulate. Each one will hold rain, flattening like a paper plate to protect and fortify it’s parent tree. Mulching leaves is  better than burning them, but allowing them to accumulate whole in the root zone of the tree is best. Free mulch. And if you have checked the prices on mulch, if you can get it, you begin more and more to see the wisdom. The epiphany is yours, journal veterans. Rebelriver.com.

            The Environmental Protection Agency busted a few Arkansas businesses and landowners this year. Not nearly enough. I read the Arkansas page of the Arkansas Democrat Gazette, they have environmental news almost daily. Like just a few days ago, they listed the top reasons formerly pristine streams are polluted—sediments from new construction,--sediments and other elements from cattle farms. The top problem with our streams is sediment. Bottom line. I saw the pathetic silt fence they put up at the Highland School construction. Looks good from the highway. But look deeper, across the back road, at the old outdoor class room, where they are carting much of the dirt. It’s pushed directly into otter creek, trees pushed down, others doomed by massive grade change and fill on the stems. Redneck city. Lake Navajo is in for serious problems from this little shortcut. Ironic, the outdoor classroom is where I first learned about aquatic creatures and such. John Katrosh was not only a great coach, building state championship teams in both football and baseball, but he was quite an eighth grade science teacher. If he was still around, maybe eighth graders could chart the degradation as clay mud moves surely down the creek, covering gravel and rock with dark red silt, filling meanders with clay, changing the ecosystem, killing out most life. And there on the Cherokee trail, where literally the tribe straddled the watersheds, needing only a drag of the boat to the other side of the baseball field to gain access to the strawberry river system. Of course the baseball field was not there yet. Wiles cabinet shop sits near where the boaters must have again gained the smooth water surface and resumed the natural movement of ancient man. Peace.

November 14, 2007 

Hillary flip flopped but Guiliani and Fox got caught in bed. Deer meat down the hatch. Strength and stamina now flow pure in my stomach. Speed. I butchered the animal. Cutting steaks across the grain, gleaning stew meat. Tenderloin. Venison rocks.

            Rain cut my landscaping short today. More Hollywood junipers and barberry in store tomorrow. Rain also cut off my bike ride, but I got a couple of miles in before I wussed out.

            Looking for a Mympho trip soon. And UPS will start up soon. Thanksgiving coming up. I try to be thankful for what I have, It helps fend depression. Not that that is a problem now, I’m living right and living well. Firewood. Venison.

            I want to ride Memphis hard. I need to ride Cherokee more. Watch for my ad in the villager. I was on the front page one time. I’ll show you someday. In Cherokee I take Algonquin to East Lakeshore. On the way back it’s Warpath. I need to trim a tiny blue rug in the town center soon. I guess I lost the town houses. Too bad. Substandard work is usually done when I lose the bid. Nineteen years almost I’ve used certified methods. I worked for Chuck-n-saw, a local certified arborist I often recommend for two or three years, then Craig Dunbar and I formed Ozark Tree Service in 92, in 93 I formed Rebel Tree Care. Chuck moved away, Craig got hurt. I felt like a real warrior for awhile, posers and privateers proliferated. But I was trimming thousands of trees a year and flirting with real money. My name has been on a general liability policy for sixteen years running. Rebel Tree Care—thousands of satisfied trees.

            Tornadoes of brown oak leaves swirl tonight as northerly winds chill. Today was a trip with the leaves falling and blowing sideways.

November 13, 2007 

Hard rain at dawn. Thunder booms. Sheets of cold rain continue some time. Geezer get’s to come in and snuggle. Now he has a dream, fearfully battling wolves on a prairie of jerky. Maybe a muddy ride in store, probably some landscaping this morning. So many choices, so many changes as melancholy leaves fall each day. Piddling and vehement maintenance rule. Planting. Planning. Sitting. Thinking. I am developing powerful muscles that allow me to sit for long periods.

            Now soft thunders roll far away. Rain slackens, more thunder away. Sounded like a hurricane when it first came in. Heavy sudden burst just pre dawn. A good cold storm may usher in winter, strip leaves away to reveal stark sky and leaping squirrels. Expose blue jays. Expose deer. And Mr. Magnum will bark.

            Lining up work for January. Gearing up for a Memphis trip. Work in midtown, East Memphis, and Germantown. Ready. To get ‘er done. Yo.

November 12, 2007

Nice rainy day preparing a landscaping job. I’ll be planting many Hollywood junipers and barberry. Why? Because I rock, yo. Words rock. I also got a good mountain bike ride in, keeping up with hot chicks on horses. They don’t cut me a lot of slack. I’m riding harder to keep up. Rough tough stuff on Turkey Creek. Rebel River adventures. I probably should jam. Need to work on DVD burning. Need to fix a waterbed. Skate got a deer! Maybe some wood splitting is in store.

            Good news for river lovers. The gravel mine ban is being enforced on Crooked Creek. Watersheds. Look it up. Freedom to pollute is under attack. Did you know that sediment is the biggest polluter of our streams? That’s right, it’s not drunks from Memphis, it’s the good old boy at the corner coffee bar every morning. It always amused me when people find out I’m a canoe outfitter, they are like, “don’t let them litter my river.” I’m like, “wow you really seem to care, what do you think of cattle farms with no controls, unregulated construction, and logging without Best Management Practices?” Ask around, you’ll find that here in the Ozarks of Arkansas’ lack of Government inspection makes us very similar to third world countries.

            When my father was a boy the St. Francis, Cache, and Black Rivers all flowed clear and green for swimming and fishing. Now they are milky mocca most of the year. At the present rate of destruction, Spring River is on course to become orange red from clay erosion, and not just during downpours and immediately afterward as now. Get out in the water in the rain, you’ll see orange veins of sediment laden water washing in to discolor the river. Ninety percent of the time, when you trace the source of sediment contaminated run off, you find harsh construction, zero sediment control, arrogant ignorance of Best Management Practices.

            I urge you to use the link at the top of this journal page if you suspect a commercial developer is ignoring sediment control at the expense of the river.

November 7, 2007

Pretty cool day here in Sharp County. After a morning of trimming privet and cedar, working up firewood and vehement maintenance, I’m ready to chill at Willa Ford’s warm house. I pay my couch rent and cable bill with wood. I got plenty of wood.

            Dick Cheney may get impeached! God above, I hope he gets disgraced and impeached before he’s out of office. That evil prick lied for Satan. H e got us into a war so his Halliburton and Enron buddies could laugh it up on the golf course. But impeachment seems to be reserved for presidents who have consensual, adult sex. What Cheney is doing to us constitutes sodomy. At least use some lubrication Dick. Tricky Dick. Trickle down. Asshole.

            And we spiral down to 2008. Soon Thanksgiving will usher in corporate Christmas, we see each commercial break what we are supposed to buy our children so they don’t feel poor. Or for men there is quadruple razor heads for dozens of dollars. For women there is the latest vacuum cleaner, wow it makes the supermodel happy as she uses the magic sweeper. Just buy a pack of white socks.

            I think I’ll get Geezer a cat. Maybe I’ll give the old van to my niece. I have some old batteries to give my brother, and broken concrete blocks for my sister. I’ll give my nephew a dead blue jay, my mom empty Gatorade bottles, and for my brother in law how about some five gallon buckets. I gave kids dead animals for Halloween once.

            Rebelriver.com—the voice of reason.     

November 6, 2007

Chill breeze blows as I piddle. This morning found me way up in a dead red oak. Soon the monster was slain, two more declining red oaks found new breath when I relieved them of dead branches. As always, I gained access to the trees to be pruned without spikes, I’ve never cheated in eighteen years, why start now. I strove to make perfect proper pruning cuts as outlined in ANSI pruning standards. Nothing fancy here,  just collar cuts. Not as common among tree professionals as you might hope.

            But enough about bad tree work, I’d rather bitch about pollution. Deforestation. The dead zone. Not the Steven King thing, the area where the Mississippi delta drains into the Gulf of Mexico. Watersheds. Against the grain. Swamps would be saving the planet if we had taken a softer impact angle. Aquaculture. I don’t think people see the Old Cherokee as swamp dwellers. But they were, I mean people see the trail of tears and walking with horses, this was canoe travel. This was the Laughing Place.

            Waterfalls rock. I have a special relationship with the rivers. I frequent four extraordinary resource waterways. I live less then ten miles from three separate extraordinary resource water ways. I take people mountain biking, then we canoe back. That rocks. No seriously dude—that rocks. Keep that heart rate up. I can usually fix flats, we might even mend a chain. Support vehicles follow, but it may be awhile.

November 5, 2007

Incredible afternoon here in Hardy. Soft wind bursts toss myriad yellow flurries of leaves. Elms leave elegant circles on streets, brown oak leaves fly sideways, red gum and sumacs dot and swirl scarlet. Easy job this morning, detailing a nice yard. Now it’s serious piddling. Unbelievable weekend jamming with BACKFLASH featuring MIKE GRAY. They toy with common melodies, sinking deep off chord on purpose, bending the blues as dancers sway and hop. MOLLY HATCHET, KENNY WAYNE SHEPHARD…

            Life rocks well. Enjoyment is key now. I must walk in freaking joy. Everything is all good. And Journal veterans know that I will tell you when it’s bad. Bad was a bad MICHAEL JACKSON album. He’s no PRINCE. B.B. KING either. He is a QUEEN though I’ll wager. Poor guy, he can’t even babysit if he gets broke.

            Get ‘er done, folks, you know I will.

November 3, 2007

Killer Saturday. I’ve been in two dangerous box elders. Ended up trimming a cedar and walnut also, and poison ivy, sumac, and hackberry. Other vines may never be identified. Then it was riotous piddling. Mulching crepe myrtle. Installing shapes. Raking bobcat work. Planning practical snow cone driveways.

            Topping and flopping, dicing dropping, chipping, raking…

            Tonight it’s Panadox in Highland. Grand opening of an auction house. Waterfalls on the building. BACKFLASH will rock Copper Feather again, we had a blast last night. Shooting pool. Dancing. Jumping, screaming southern rock: FREE, ZZ TOP, ERIC CLAPTON, SANTANA, ALLMAN BROTHERS…

            Peace for now ya’ll.

Fixin’ up. Most folks around know I live simple southern trailer trash style. I’m not particularly proud of it, I appreciate the freedom to do it. I’m anti corporate trendsetting, anti pollution with hard fitting specifics. I’m anti war with hard hitting alternatives. I’m not Anti Christ, I’m pro choice and pro life. I am all things to all People. Now have sex with me.

            Rebelriver.com is a complexity, problematic in nature. John Ashcroft would see pot smokers bare buttocks be smitten in the town square. Thank God that hypocrite asshole is out. Town constables sift evidence like a judge. Rancher barons tout freedoms, local control. Trickle down at it’s worst.

            It’s like Charlie Sheen in a Korean brothel with a bad credit card.

            Deer move near my home. I could legally kill one with a rifle fight now. Somebody needs to take a few. It’s dangerous to drive the roads at night with so many. I personally have to literally stop and allow them passage, near misses even with my quick eyes and necessary reflexes, standard brand coordination and a ruthless will to succeed. I don’t even swerve or tap the brakes for squirrels though. And they are really skinny this year, maybe the double freeze and drought have affected the acorn harvest, though I feel it is a revolving thing, I mean it seems like each species of oak is affected by a drought in differing years, for example white the next year, post three years later. I think red oaks are hit especially hard, most are in decline. Red oaks are getting shaky. Mulch helps that. Seems like we have a severe drought every year, too. I may get a spider lift. This awesome crane thing that puts an urban arborist safely into a tree. They are the future of urban work. Safety rules. Lawsuits. Insurance. Taxes. Groceries. Gotta go I figure.

November 1, 2007

Long day yesterday partially in a beautiful red oak over a home. I’ve been to a football game, the Highland Rebels beat the West Side Warriors. Tonight it’s over to Pocahontas, a big Senior High rivalry. Cold nights coming, I’m living right, piddling like crazy, winterizing, maintaining, cleaning…SAMMY HAGAR’S birthday is coming up, I’ve been listening to his rockin’ album 10/13.

            Donald Rumsfeld is in the news. Apparently he was urging colleagues to “keep elevating the threat.” Warmonger slut. Urinals are drying up in Atlanta. Probably going to get pretty smelly there. I bet the frogs have boils. Sounded like a joke.

            I need to ride, get wild on the trails. Need to jam, get wild on the wind. Spinning slowly, my equilibrium is fine. I am balanced, all things in moderation. I don’t wear a tie and I have long hair. I know that that is the personification of evil to some. I’m not evil. Get this: WAR IS IMMATURE. Huh. How about that? WAR IS IMMATURE. No, it’s not the name of a band. It is a mantra, a slogan, a phrase to live by. Say it. Aloud. WAR IS IMMATURE. WAR IS IMMATURE. Chant it together outside the state house. WAR IS IMMATURE! WAR IS IMMATURE! WAR IS IMMATURE!

            Peace now. Peace forever. True peace through simpler lives and humbler methods. Hold your sacred peace inside and out. Project peace. Walk in peace.           

October 30, 2007 

The air was electric as my bud and I strolled into Scott Trade Center. We were shocked to find our seats in the middle of 28 professional cheerleaders. The greatest rock band in the history of the world took the stage, EDDY in a sleek black kilt, shirtless, DAVE fit and tan  in floppy blues shirts or Sergeant Pepper jackets, he changed often. ALEX thundered shirtless on skins, and WOLFGANG, fifteen year old bass player showed mastery early on, but inexplicably stopped playing on just the third song in. After a side stage disturbance, DAVID said to the crowd: “any of you ****ers know Romeo Delight?” I know the song by heart, it is the soundtrack to my high school experience, so I hopped nimbly on stage and proceeded to slug through a few practice riffs. DAVE and EDDY exchanged glances and favorable shrugs, and there I was playing bass in front of sixty thousand people for the greatest band ever. Not really. They canceled.

            SAMMY HAGAR had more air time in Scott Trade Center than DAVE. Every time the St. Louis Blues  hockey team called a time out, MONTROSE rocked it out. DAVE did get plenty of play over at the Rams game the next day, old VAN HALEN songs permeated each kickoff and timeout for the winless team.

            I did a gig at the Drury Plaza. They have a cool lobby. Hard Rock and Hooters warm and inviting. I did my Christmas shopping at Hard Rock, they have an incredible gift store. I stayed there quite awhile, smitten with the aura of cool, struck by the sweet flava of the place. Quite a weekend, quite a welcome home. Willa Ford had a hot fire and big wet kiss for me.

            Rebel Tree Care is on tap now. Back to my world. Back to what I like, what I know, what I do. Peace to all you lovers of love. Peace to the flava children so dark, so pretty, peace to Korean girls and frustrated fans of freaky franchises, here’s to all the mugallottos lookin’ for a moonbeam, women lawyers, adorable children, hockey puckers, crazy funky freakazoids, alka seltzer ploppers, hell week hazers, miniscule egos, famous slackers, arrestors of development, immature warriors, servants of reality, masters of pretension…

October 26, 2007

Tough morning in a wet split dangerous post oak. Saul Goode now. I got the cable in nice and snug, the split is pulled back together well, and the tops are lightened of heavy upper branches, the tree looks great, natural. Rebel Tree Care. Time to wrap up some stuff, get into concert mode. Halloween sits leering like a gargoyle, patient, evil grin haunting.

             So recycle, ride a bike, mulch. Mulching is recycling. Save this eight ball, or we’ll all be like California: burning. Reforestation could be a start. I like the trees in St. Louis, proper pruning is the norm. They are a progressive city for Urban Forestry. Little Rock I noticed is making government buildings eco friendly. I doubt Highland is following that trend with the new Gymnasium or whatever they are building. Probably it’ll be the last government building built in Arkansas not eco-friendly.

            So hold the Arkansas fort, Journal Veterans. I’m headed to Yankee territory. I do not think it will be hostile. We bring baubles and coin. We will partake of ale and fine cuisine at Hooter’s. We will be melancholy Monday. And Tuesday we will resume our real lives. Peace.

October 25, 2007

Wet afternoon trimming cedar, plum, and holly. Holly is tough to trim because she really squirms around. The rain is nice, I like it cold and wet. But I like my women like I like my laundry, warm and normal. I have an emergency job, a thick old post oak with included bark has split, the homeowner chained it up with a come along. I’ve got some Extra High Strength steel cable, I’ll pull it together and install a proper cable. Certified methods.

            Gearing up for the ultimate party. Van Halen is hitting St. Louis. I’ll be there in full regalia. I saw them in eighty, Mid-South coliseum in Memphis, Tennessee. I won’t get into incriminating details, let’s just say that snow shovels were used to scoop thousands of cigarettes into full size trash bags, and they weren’t tobacco.

            Looking forward to a snug winter. Cold windy mornings in the trees, warm wood fires crackling. In the day I usually had January and February booked solid. I suppose I could again if I called folks more. Not my style. I’m too laid back sometimes. Just my way, I’m not a rah-rah corporate hair cut type. I’m a forest lover, not a rat racer.

            So beware of shabby, pathetic tree work by so called professionals. Save money on canoing by using me as a guide. Read radical, free wheeling, politically incorrect works, listen to quality music and experimental sounds, and please the eye with twinkling silent large screen video in odd places. Sound familiar? Rebelriver.com!

            Did you see the crows dive bombing the fat hawk sitting on a pole by Hardy Bridge? I jumped off that bridge. Think about it. And think about this, where I landed, I could stand up. My name used to be on the pillar, atop a list of friends. I had nothing to do with the painting. The second time. When Craig redid the fading black letters with new red highlights. It read to the best of my recollection:

Alan Williams

Craig Dunbar

Sandy Hall

Larry Fowler

Tod Dunbar

WE JUMPED 4/2/82

            ILM(In Loving Memory)was added to Sandy Hall’s name later, and Danny Taylor got his initials up there. It was all erased a few years ago for routine maintenance. I (heart) Becky adorns the water tower at Ash Flat still to this day I believe. Craig also did the eagle on the new tower in Ash Flat. He was helped on that with Kevin (Charlie Sheen losing an argument with a  hooker) Baggs. The worm. Moron that later.

            I used to literally make out a will on the eve of Halloween. Once KILL the rock star unleashed his metal fury hell hath no recourse. Even with BURN and PILLAGE gone off to careers and marriages, KILL welled forth each Halloween to ridicule preppies and insult wannabe sluts.       

October 23, 2007 

Winter has arrived. Cold rain, consistent. Two days ago I walked barefoot at dawn. I still had my windows open. Now I wear shoes, windows are shut. Wet morning dealing with a fallen elm in Ash Flat. I also removed hackberry, cherry, mimosa, more elm, and trimmed an elm. Showered and dry now, except for my hair, I lounge naked, animals competing for food in the front room, Work truck resting, stray chips and dust slowly washing off in the rain. Life is wonderful. Time to get in the van and take it over to Willa. I’ve got a load of wood for her. I’ll take that in the truck tomorrow, good weathered oak. Skate will be splittin’ like a good man, he has a new maul.

            So it’s the Red Sox and Rockies in the World Series. I hope it’s decided by heroes, not goats. Like Cleveland’s third base coach, that inexplicably held up Kenny Lofton. Cost the Indians the World Series. Kenny Lofton rules. Looks like Johnny Damon made the wrong move jumping from the Sox to the Yankees. Matt Holliday, the Rockies left fielder was set to be the goat in the one game playoff against the Padres. He muffed a relatively easy fly ball in the eighth to allow the Padres to tie it. He redeemed himself in like the sixteenth inning with a two rbi triple and subsequent winning score. The Rockies have won like twenty of twenty one games stretching back two weeks into the now distant regular season. But a special customer of mine is a Sox fan, I kind of like their story too. Should be a good series.

            The sweet sound of rain drops pelt infrequent. Grounds begin to saturate slowly. Hope this keeps up. Rain makes me feel crazy cool. I like to get grungy then clean up nice. I dig shelter. Shelter rocks. And warm dry clothes. That rocks too. Basics. Food is cool too. And water. Good clean water is underrated. Fire is important. Salt. Back Bacon. John Deere lawn tractors. Bradley fighting vehicles. 22 Magnums. Four wheel drives. Shotguns. A country boy can survive. If you don’t like the way I’m living, you just leave this old long haired country boy alone. Peace.

October 21, 2007 

Tough Sunday morning getting a red oak down. The beast was between three separate buildings. Winds clamored and moaned, clogging communication, complicating tactical decisions, worrying, delaying… finally the deed was done. My sister Debby helped, her knee tries to go out though. Long weekend draws down as I head to Willa Ford.

            Dennis Hastert is retiring. The Democrats must have some good stuff on that pork barrel lard ass. That whore must be on tape soliciting sex from a young Muslim boy.

            Geezer says hey. He says to tell everyone that he has assumed control. I have some post oak to chip, two nasty box elders to remove, a declining ash to prune, variegated privet…

            So dig a hole. Plant something. Mulch. Recycle. Speak fully truthful. See that which is obvious. Sacrifice. Choose a battle. Fight. Bring the troops home. Clean the water. I bet Atlanta is learning about mulch. Maybe they should bring a Zuni elder to speak. Atlanta folks probably want to water their lawns, I doubt the troops are a priority. Unless it’s a son or daughter. I wonder what the cattle are doing in Georgia? I mean it takes like a million gallons of water to produce an ounce of beef, not to mention the fossil fuels to move it, destruction of forest, pollution of rivers. I for one can skip the next few burgers. I’m with Oprah on this one. Wait the beef industry shut her down. But they can’t stop Rebelriver.com. Rebelriver.com is way too powerful for the puny beef lobby to stifle.

October 18, 2007 

Nice breezy late afternoon. Creekside had to cancel, low ticket sales. Melancholy now. I trimmed six or seven red oaks and a few white oaks today on Lake Thunderbird. Then it was down the road a few houses, removing redbud(I cautioned against it, Redbud is a favored tree for many reasons) but was promised a Japanese maple had been selected to occupy the prime spot. Also I trimmed an ornamental maple to allow parking space and street clearance. I’m good at that stuff.

            Tomorrow it’s landscaping: installing variegated privet and mulch badges. Urban scraping. I gotta make a living, I’m lucky to be doing something I believe in. Trees are my calling. I think about the others, who go years and years without making simple, elementary standard cuts, scoffing at believers of scientifically developed certified standards. The joke is on, homeowners. And it is on you. Trust only Rebel Tree Care.

            Maybe a mountain bike ride with horses tomorrow afternoon. Maybe a river adventure. I’ve got to contact UPS, they called me twice yesterday. Time for the rigorous drug and background checks I endure year after year. That’s cool, I kind of dig the job. Wouldn’t want it year round. I’m not a teamster. Moron that later.

            Shout out to all the shoulder chippers, boulder rollers, hog leg roasters, toaster stabbers, rebel yellers, red Lebanese, purple muslims, Kashmir weaver camel jockey gay black lesbo dago’s, all you cat dogs, stone faced criers, sleeveless hearts, genocide kings, Aces of bass, Milli Vanilli lovers, haters of hatred…

October 17, 2007

Lightning rips night skies. Thunder rolls up from the delta. Tornado watch for the whole state. Tornado alley. Runs right through here. You betcha. Rain sheets brief and occasional. Trees rain drops when cool wind gusts beat infrequent.

             We got nice crepe myrtles in the ground this morning. And installed over large black mulch “badges”.  Nice. After a Rueben at Lakeside, it was over to the lake and as I went up the ladder for the first tree rain bursts began to slicken. Rain out. I’ll prune the vista tomorrow. Where you goin’ for tomorrow? Where you goin’ with the mask I found?  Longings so strong. Needs. Lusts. Intense want. Stupid yearnings.

            Clean Water. Free thought. Rebelriver.com.

October 16, 2007

Incredible evening. Today was a declining sycamore. I cut numerous dead branches away, tied into the slippery sucker at about forty feet. Spikeless makes it a little more interesting. I won’t say dangerous, because it isn’t. It is more difficult without spikes. That’s why most tree services use them when trimming. Remember, spikes are fine for removals, but should not be used on a tree to be left in the landscape. ANSI standard. It was a late start, I had to wait for a dry spell. Chips now slow runoff on a horse yard. They may not last too long getting beat by horses, but it’s better than nothing. Horses are a trip, I had to wrestle one a little while a girl wrapped an injury on it’s leg. Scary. Twister, Lightning, Thunder, Geronimo…

            Big day on tap tomorrow, first it’s installing fine black mulch beds and planting crepe myrtle on Southfork River. Then it’s over to Lake Thunderbird, revisiting a vista pruning job from a year or two ago.

            Thursday will be busy with estimates and Creekside Loft. Friday maybe I’ll hit the river if it’s warm. I have to work Sunday next weekend, a huge dead red oak in a busy parking lot.

            Things are spinning now. The spiral tightens. I must choose my way carefully here. So many choices,  changes, reasonings and seasons. A long cold winter awaits the grasshopper. But the ant never sings. Peace.

October 15. 2007

Rainy today. Nice. We got a good job started, an ash in Cherokee Village was lightning struck, I topped and rigged, climbed and cut. We got the brush chipped in the rain, ash chips fine, also hackberry. Then we dropped the remainder of the trunk and called it a day. Looks to be wet more this week, I almost could have finished the job, planting crepe myrtle and mulching, but I have to trim one more sycamore, and it’ll be slick enough spikeless even when dry. That’s cool though, I can take chips to a friend here in Highland to fill a horse yard.

            I’ve rode my mountain bike with horses again. It’s cool. The horses think it’s interesting too. I like horses. Horses rock. And usually horse people are so tough and sensitive or whatever.

            So Thursday it’s BILLY JOE FRENCH at  Creekside Loft. Look for Panadox on the building again.

            So when life gives you lemons, don’t step on the cat. And don’t look a gift horse in the eye. Every dog has his style. Turn every stone, rolling along, sniff the roses, for Sharon is important. Orgasmic farming and Hemp, steady as she blows. Captains of industry giants, Commodores and BeeGees, Indians and Rockies, Apple Lake, Brain Pond, trifling off, follow threw, hollow thong tree, power pointers, reflection of mirth, lovely heaven, uncomfortable hell, still the album plays, skippity, skippity, skip. Remember cd’s. No skipping. Yeah right. Remember the first cable:? No commercials. Ha. Better go.

October 12, 2007

Nice bright awesome morning here in downtown Hardy. Night of food and music down the hatch, we fed and entertained fifty or sixty. LALA sang her pure little heart out. We had folks dancing  in the isles, it was a hoot. I had a funky hat on, the girls were after me, but I took it on home to Willa. Panadox lit the front of the building with action, I got lot’s of raves on that. We still need to up the attendance a little. Maybe BILLY JOE FRENCH will do that next week.

            For now it’s a mountain bike run—Rebel River Adventures. I may jam some Bass,--Erosion-- I’m getting awesome! Life rocks yo. And so do you yo. Have a frickin’ greatish weekend.  Get crazy, but be careful. Peace. Out.

 Creekside Loft

October 10, 2007 

Hardy bustles this evening. I sit in the parking lot of Creekside Loft watching Panadox. A ten foot high waterfall shimmies and flows, jumping, breaking, sparkle and swirl, white whips and blue green water bursting or calm. I love the scene, one hour of one of my favorite places in the whole world. People are like, put some dancing lights around it, change it, tweak it, make it to the music… I’m usually thinking, no, you do that. I like my simple white water, it is eye catching but not glitzy, it is earthy, heavenly, amazingly simple. It is Panadox.

            Today a massive dead white oak posed a challenge. I carefully weighed my options for safety and hazard, efficiency and challenge. Soon the beast was lying down, thus began the cleanup song. Dual Husquavarna chainsaws moaned and growled in harmony, no chipping today. My truck developed a limp, at home I discovered the loose vacuum tube. A change of oil and air filter, a little dusting off, and my buddy is ready for whatever I can dish out. I still need to grease it though. My dad taught me little common sense things that carry me today. Though I was formally trained by a Certified Arborist in my twenties, my dad taught me as a pre teen to bend my knees and get the chainsaw tip up, still today and most everyday that training keeps my back healthy and saw sharp. Bo Williams had a quick, businesslike pace, it served him well. RIP pop.

            Traffic eases here in Hardy. Another hour of white water and I will head for Willa Ford. She keeps a healthy home, young son full of wit and wonder, we bounce blues riffs back and forth, he on guitar and me on bass. We watch Ninja Warrior, Crusty’s Dirt Demons, and Rock of Love with Bret Micheals. I help him study, shouting answers often wrong, goading him to wash dishes. I’m no father, but I stay sober and patient. We’re about to see if he can split wood.

            Landscaping and artifact hunting on tap the next days, good solid Rebel Tree Care scheduled for next week. Life is well. Time for a mountain bike blast through downtown. See how the screen plays from back a ways. Rebelriver.com.

October 9, 2007

Busy day. Just a little landscaping, but lot’s of errands. Erosion control. Blackjack chips. I get to show my superiority trimming blackjack. It’s especially difficult. Combing the tree, using skills other tree services don’t possess(eightteen years certified methods), tools they will not carry(seventeen foot manual pole saw, ladder, chipper.) I get up high in the tree, selective pruning and deadwooding, working my way down with difficulty and care, patience and perseverance, leaving certain lower branches for taper and form… Two post oaks and two blackjacks will be fine for many years.

            Tonight Panadox will grace Creekside Loft. Cruise Hardy. Big screen will sparkle and slide. The show will entertain automobile drivers and patrons of White Oak Station. Thursday when the MIKE GRAY BAND featuring LAUREN performs the building will be alive with laughter and appreciation.

             Tomorrow it’s a dead white oak on Southfork River. Gotta go.

October 8, 2007 

Pre dawn quiet here in Highland. Saturday I had to top out and remove a sturdy post oak over a house. HDTV. Another scourge for trees. Have you noticed the huge oaks in Highland knocked down at the start of  a major construction project? I refused the job, I did not want to see the trees go. I pleaded with the owner to review plans for the project before killing them all. Even the one way over in the corner is gone now. Progress. Heat vacuum. Asphalt rules. Trees are nuisance. Kill trees. The guy won’t be parking his vehicle in the heat there, the minimum wage guy working at the new convenience store will. His windshield will crack from the heat.

            Off to do proper pruning this morning. Post oak, blackjack…

            Look for the MIKE GRAY BAND featuring LAUREN at Creekside Loft  this Thursday nite. I’ve a good feeling about this show. I’ve got the blues for ya. Check this out main street Hardy. Peace.

October 5, 2007

Hot Friday in Cherokee Village. I trimmed a pear, then topped out a red oak with a rotted base, dropping it, chipping it, cutting it up. Work is picking up, the door knockers always shoot themselves in the foot eventually. Beware of this industry, folks, trust only Rebel Tree Care.

            Bush warned Syria not to meddle in Lebanon. We only can meddle. We must establish corporate controlled democracy so that Bush’s friends can monopolize security and trading. We patrol China’s borders each day, they must not confront us as we police their borders. Did you see where Fred Thompson says that the Soviet Union won’t help Iran? Maybe that’s because they have been dissolved for sixteen years. Sure, I pick on Republican leaders, but there is also Joe Leiberman. Oy Vey. What a lame asshole. Gore-Kerry-Hillary—pablum for the masses. Corporate machines. Dole pineapple, Bush’s vegetables, Heinz catsup. We shovel it down our colons never thinking of the vast infrastructure of trucking and needless pollution. What’s the point? Local organic farms would ease our dependence on foreign oil. It’s all connected. Rally some gay muslim atheists to mulch and plant trees. Get the KKK and black youths together to establish riparian zones.  Cleaner water would result. Senator Larry Craig and Britny Spears could collaborate on a recycling project.

            Check out BACKFLASH at Copper Feather tonight and tomorrow night, 9 p.m. to one a.m. and beyond.            

October 4, 2007 

Hello. How ya’ll? I am fine. I’ve been busy talking trees, doing small jobs, spreading the word about proper tree care. And rampant fraud, inferior work. Crap work. Hacks. A bad joke that’s not funny. Standards. Scoffers go to hell.

            Bush vetoed the child health bill. That evil little maggot. He claims executive privilege to protect his secret leverage, I guess this is simply privilege. Ivy League, Skull and Bones privilege. Let the sick kids get out and work for it like his granddad did, let them create the culture of Muslim hatred like his father. Let them join the National Guard like he did. On paper. I’m sure Rush Limbaugh supports him, because Hillary started this mess in 93. Bill and Hillary caused the mess we are in. Eight years of peace and prosperity nearly ruined this nation. Rush, George and Dick. Smug polluting lumps of pure evil bloated twisted asshole. Traitorous whores.

            I’ve been mountain biking, from Highland to Williford and back. No small feat. Hope to keep it up, I rode with horses too, plan on doing that again soon. Fine tuning my body. Cross training my mind. Tempering my spirit. Strength. 

            Wanna make a difference? Check out this tv station I’ve been watching Linktv.org.

September 29, 2007

What? Wow, is it still September? Here at Riverside the Backyard Bash is in full throttle. Burn outs, loudest pipes, hot dog gulp, keg roll and more, all the games are contested. Thousands of people are here. Last night BACKFLASH rocked us twice, two awesome shows, one on the main stage for close to a thousand appreciative, dancing fans, then a later show on the River Stage for many hundred. PANADOX sparkled, waterfalls and oils, movie explosions, a little bit of chaotic color and action to accent the music. Tonight it’s the late show again, I’ll show more waterfalls and this time I’m going to run my best Kaliedoscopes. Food vendors offer great food at a fair price. Dancing areas for ladies are fenced off, they have to go through the stage to get to the stripper pole. BEN BRAND is a special talent, he rocked the main stage, then sat in with BACKFLASH a song or two. Tonight it’s SONS OF THE SOUTH and RICHOCHET, then BACKFLASH again. I’m tweaking the video preparation, having a beer in the sun as canoers and rafters roll by. This is my world, Spring River, MIKE GRAY and family. Poor Geezer, sitting at the house, oh well, I’m taking him arrowhead hunting tomorrow. Willa Ford will be missing me I hope. Welcome, Riverside’s Back Yard Biker Bash, to Rebelriver.com.

September 24, 2007

Yo. Quiet afternoon in Highland. Nice canoe trip at the High Falls area. Plenty of hot sunshine, good friends. We saved a little girl! Sort of, she was freaking out hearing the roar of High Falls as they prepared to shoot them. We carried her around. Hard swimming ruled, white froth and swirling currents tugging. I stretch out, kicking hard, harder, kicking more, turning to back stroke, back to front, flirting with hard currents, joining to fly away in an instant.

            Geezer rolled in the sand. Ancient cliffs stand solemn, ever judging, stone fortresses covered in cedar and chinkapin. Dead sycamores tower, live ones so ivory in the green canopy. Still the sycamore weeps, reaching blind search for lost love in flowing waters. Maple reaches to help search.

            And life rocks. FURTHER DOWN brought Hardy Gym to a boil Saturday night. Those guys are cool. I told their manager to find my Myspace, I told him to look through their friends, I was the guy holding a little blonde girl and a little black dog. With a straight face he informed me they have nine thousand friends.

            I’ve been rocking myself, jamming acoustic relentless. Rehabbing my hand. I love plugging Mr. Alvarez, my electric, in after much work with Mr. Player, my acoustic. EROSION. PANADOX will join on this main street Hardy gig in about a month. I plan on being ready. Preparation. H.

            Lastly look into mountain biking. It’ll make you feel good. It’ll save gas. It’ll be nice and quiet. It will rule. Trust me. Let’s ride, then go canoeing. $20

September 22, 2007

Tired this sunny day. This Saturday morning found me in a red oak over a house, numerous others toward structures, and a fine big white oak over the house. No serious mishaps or anything. It’s all good.

            Last night I remembered I was supposed to help out at Creekside Loft just in time. Debbie, Lauren, and Garret were in the midst of feeding eighty Boy Scouts of America alumnus and guests. I joined in and helped get it done. I don’t do it for the money. I do it because I want my sister to succeed. She has busted her ass for thirty odd years building a solid business. Hardy seems to be embracing her. She grew up on main street Hardy, now she has returned. Debbie Gray, formerly of Pocahontas, with Petals N Lace, formerly in Pocahontas and Jonesboro. She was Debbie Williams back then, known as stretch, because on the basketball court she was unstoppable. With her left handed hook shot she poured in incredible points sometimes. A member of the State Championship team. Go girl.

            Tonight it’s FURTHER DOWN in Hardy. One of the best bands for a long ways around right here again. Look for BACKFLASH at The Spot in West Plains Missouri afterwards.

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