Fortuna's Reel

Nothing to see here

2006-09-29T04:12:00.000-05:00

Since I started using Flickr, I've really not had much use for a photoblog. So, head on over to where the good stuff is.

Family day out

2006-05-01T02:01:00.000-05:00

My parents came to visit for the day. We went out to eat, my mom and I got a little drunk on some wine, and we tooled around downtown and Mud Island for an afternoon. The weather was gorgeous and everyone was in a good mood. Perfection!

These are my folks: Steve and Fran. He likes NASCAR and her favorite color is green.

This is a statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest and his horse and his horse's giant genitalia.

Someone scrawled his or her feelings regarding Mr. Forrest on the base of the monument.

Inside a steamboat replica.

Coming up to the captain's steering room. Or whatever it's called.

This is a topographically accurate concrete replica of the Mississippi River. Wheee!

My 'hood, in concrete-and-metal relief.

Me and dad.

Heh.

More photos here.

Cannons-boro

2006-03-09T13:54:00.000-06:00

Before there was Murfreesboro, there was Cannonsburgh, a settlement named for Newton Cannon, the first Whig governor of Tennessee.

Murfreesboro houses a small tourist trap called Cannonsburgh Village that's a small replica of the original settlement. During the 4.5 years I lived in Murfreesboro, I never once visited the place.

I remedied that recently.

Welcome to a little slice of pioneer heaven.

Bridge over complacent water.

It's always odd to see 1800s buildings beneath a canopy of electrical wires.

The windmill's shadow, as noticed by Phil.

The windmill in its backlit glory.

No idea what this is.

I can say with confidence that this is a wagon wheel.

Another wheel.

Had I been alive during the 1800s, I would have lost all my limbs for sure.

I can't help but be grateful for the sterility of modern doctors' offices.

This doctor's office is a little creepy.

Horse pills for people.

This is what people think about when they think about Cannonsburgh. Unless they think of the poor bucket.

It would be sort of nice if this thing was on a real creek or river or whatever so that it worked.

Some magnificent moron torched the World's Largest Cedar Bucket last summer, and the poor thing sits charred and lonely behind the confines of a metal fence.

For the whole family.

I'm all turned around!

Yes, photo subject double-dipping.

This little guy was tired.

Capt. Phil.

King day

2006-01-18T00:55:00.000-06:00

The line was really, really long. We waited for probably an hour to get in the museum, and took about three hours inside, and that's not counting the last half of the tour, across the street, which we sat out because it was rainy and late and we hadn't eaten and Joey and Marie had to drive back to Murfreesboro.

The Lorraine Motel.

The balcony where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed.

Some woman is protesting the museum because she says it desecrates the memory of Martin Luther King Jr. I don't get it, either, but she's been protesting for more than 18 years. I'm not sure if she's even in this picture, but her camp is.

Brandon, Marie, Joey.

I'm not Native American and he's not Jewish, so quit asking.

Marie and Brandon.

An afternoon with the nephews

2005-10-13T00:46:00.000-05:00

As soon as Casey saw me get my camera out of my purse, he came running so he wouldn't miss out. Patrick, meanwhile, just posed as a homicidal maniac.

Patrick tried his best to kill the shrub.

I don't know if you can make it out, but the best part of the photo is the orange Kool-Aid mustache.

Oh, cute.

Casey, waiting on the trolley. See that fabulously spiky hair? He did that himself, using my hair gel.

Patrick, up close and personal.

A view from the trolley.

Patrick peeking.

The Pyramid.

Another of The Pyramid.

Under the overpasses.

Patrick, stretching out.

At the zoo, checking out this ape that was whooping it up.

He looks like he's about to head out on safari or something.

Nap time for the killer.

Modest matrimony

2005-10-12T13:45:00.000-05:00

My sister Krissie married Keith White on Oct. 8. It was a small gathering of family and friends at my family's church, Saltillo United Methodist. I was the maid of honor, so I didn't get to take any pictures during the ceremony, just before and after. So, without further ado, Wedding Mania '05.

The entrance.

Casey, waiting for his mom to come outside and prepare to walk the aisle. He and Patrick, instead of my dad, gave her away. It was really sweet.

Patrick and his cousin (?) Dylan (?) waiting for the ceremony to start.

This was taken after the ceremony, while everyone was taking pictures in front of the altar. The flower petals were dropped by my sister's step-granddaughters, one of whom ran out of petals halfway down the aisle and ran back in embarrassment. I'm not really sure whose shoe that is.

I wish this one wasn't so blurry, but all my photos are blurry. Anyway, I think it's cute because my sister is covering her mouth so she's probably laughing at something inappropriate.

My dad cozied up to the radio to eat his reception food so he could hear the UT game. They lost, but it didn't really dampen his spirits, as you'll see later.

Cutting the cake. No cake was forcefully crammed into any mouths, surprisingly enough.

My brother made up a little tune he called "The Wedding Song," and my dad wandered in and made up a little dance for it. It was hilarious. I'm not sure if the hilarity translates in these photos. Just trust me.

It reminded me so much of David Brent's improvised dance, only my dad's dance wasn't horrifying and embarrassing and we were laughing.

Hee.

Still not sure whose shoe that was.

Birdseed to hurl at the happy couple. My sister got off a lot lighter than at her last wedding, where we pelted the couple with rice and sprayed them with SuperSoakers. We had also piled baby powder in front of the car's vents (it was June, so the AC came on and poofed it in their faces) and we tied cans to the bumper and wrote all over the windows. Oh yeah, and we greased the door handles.

This time around, no one had come prepared to vandalize their truck, so as the couple was getting ready to come outside to leave, my brother went next door to the convenience store and bought some shoe polish. As he was writing all over the truck, they came outside and caught us cheering Evan's vandalism on. That's when we pelted them with birdseed and they sped off into the night.

What I miss the most

2005-10-05T02:29:00.000-05:00

The weekend in Nashville/Red Boiling Springs/Murfreesboro was nothing short of fabulous. These aren't all the photos, of course, and if any of you want copies of these, let me know and I'll send you larger files or photos that aren't included here. Somehow, however, I managed to not snap a single picture of Amanda or Adam, though I remember stumbling out onto the smokers' porch to do just that. How did that happen? How will Amanda and Adam prove that they weren't at the scene of some crime when the cops force them to provide an alibi for the night of Oct. 1? HOW?

Quite a crowd at the Vandy-MT game. I inadvertantly hit old people in the head with my purse so many times they I began to suspect I was doing it on purpose.

The Band of Blue, playing a Lionel Richie song.

Amber and Robert E. Lee—I mean Patrick.

She's crushing him!

The lads from Hendersonville.

$5 funnel cakes.

Kristin and Nick.

Kristin and Amber.

Chad and Cox.

Winning rules, as we found out.

Weee! Winning.

Donkey noises?

Aw, Cox and Amber.

Wendy, preparing to nap?

Chad, preparing to continue napping.

Joey, giving me a go to hell look.

The fabulous Nashville skyline.

Amber snuck that sign in inside her purse despite a ban on all large items and signs, and it gave at least a few onlookers a thrill.

Amber and her dad, who hid his sheer amazement at the cleverness of her sign.

Two football games in two days is quite the record for me.

Piles of smiles.

The birds, they are flying.

So long, Nashville. I'll be back for my heart later.

Freaks and Geeks

2005-09-18T17:05:00.000-05:00

I didn't get to spend much time at the Cooper-Young Festival, so all these shots were taken while walking, of things I saw in passing. In other words, they're not very good. Maybe next year I can stay longer and get some better shots.

People.

Walking. People.

Scarves with pretty colors.

We didn't have time to stop and buy any, unfortunately. Whatever "gay fuel" is.

This is the piano man. We got stuck behind him for a while and I overheard him talking non-stop about root words, in a Rain Man sort of monotone voice.

I was amused that this guy felt the need to wear all black and long sleeves. It wasn't exactly sweltering outside, but it wasn't exactly all-black long-sleeved lycra shirt weather either. I guess it's possible that his body is covered in horrible burns or something, so I won't make fun of his fashion choices.

I forgot what this type of drum is called, but the one that kid is playing was selling for $200.

A tourist's view of Nawlins

2005-09-04T12:34:00.000-05:00

I dug up my crappy snapshots of New Orleans taken back in October of 2001 on during a College Media Advisers conference. I thought I had a lot more than I actually do; without photos, I'll have to work extra hard to retain the memories of that city, since it will never be the same.

I'll add more to this collection as I recover them from my old hard drive.

We had a corner hotel room at the Hyatt Regency (which looks like this now), so I got several good shots of the city from our room.

I imagine most of this is underwater now.

You can see the Superdome over there, peeking out. And the black building to the left is the other wing of the hotel.

The Andrew Jackson statue in the famous Jackson Square.

We took a haunted history tour from this guy, which turned out to be excellent instead of corny. We heard lots of gruesome slave tales and voodoo legends and I spent a good deal of time genuinely creeped out, walking those historied streets at midnight.

I thought it was interesting that a lot of the homes in town were surrounded by high walls topped with glass jutting up out of cement along the top — to keep out intruders.

These guys were actually the College Publisher representatives, drunk and clamoring to see young, nubile nipples along Bourbon Street. Shudder.

Pam tried out for Street Smarts and actually did a good job playing some sort of airhead role, but she didn't make it. The best part about this photo is the baloon animals on the guy's head in the background. Ah, New Orleans, your drunken tourists salute you.

Pink socks

2005-09-04T02:42:00.000-05:00

The two best things about this photo:

1. The stone-washed cap hanging on the chair.
2. The She-Ra castle glistening in the background.

Baby Kramer

2005-08-04T13:05:00.000-05:00

Rylee Ann Smith, seven months old. You can't really make it out in this photo, but she has a hilarious and cute combover that curls on her right side, which has earned her the nickname "Baby Kramer."

Phil, breaking out the harmonica.

And the keyboard, which she really loved to pound with her feet and hands at the same time. Sort of like Jerry Lee Lewis.

Baby squeals!

Aw.

Who's smellier?

You sort of look like Tom Cruise

2005-07-18T22:58:00.000-05:00

These things should not crawl up out of your drain.

At Dyer's on Beale Street.

Outside Peabody Place.

This is fairly self-explanatory.

The confrontation.

The rejection.

Phil and Ringo.

Hey, I've seen those guys before!

Junk.

More junk.

It goes on forever.

Fourth to be tied

2005-07-06T11:27:00.000-05:00

Every year we ruin my grandmother's roof with falling soot and her grass with burnt fuses. But we always have a really good time. But first, we eat.

There are no vegetarians in my family, obviously.

Explosions for the whole family!

Ooooh! Ahhh!

I love how my mom is looking up at some fireworks like a little kid, while the little kid, Casey (my sister's future step-grandaughter) just wants to get her hands on some sparklers.

Patrick twirling some sparklers around.

Looks like magic.

Casting a spell.

This one looks like a giant paranormal orb or a portal to another dimension or something.

Hold on to that feeling

2005-06-21T01:04:00.000-05:00

Random shots taken between then and now.

Phil and his little brother Rickey, who share gaits, syntax habits, and profiles.

The cast that encloses Rickey's righteous arm breakage, decorated with Phil's Led Zeppelin symbols (in red) and my depiction of the ferret friends. Rick spent the night a few days ago and spent his time playing "The Suffering" (some crazy violent video game) one-handed.

A fun subdivision near Lakeland, just outside of Memphis.

Some parked 18-wheeler in Crump, Tenn., near the flea market.

Biscuit and Johnny Reb, two of the growing family of pups at my parents' house, which has been largely dog-free for a couple of years since all our dogs were poisoned by some sick bastard during Christmas.

Johnny running with Nickel, the newest addition to the family, given to my brother Evan by his girlfriend Nicole for graduation. They were so fast I had a hard time getting them in the frame.

Mmmm, puppy breath.

My nephew Casey and my sister Krissie, driving to Lowe's in Florence, Ala., to pick up a shower door for the bathroom in their new house. Casey insisted on listening to Journey in headphones the whole way there, but he draped them around his neck and cranked up the volume real loud so we could all enjoy.

My nephew Patrick hamming it up. I swear, these kids crack me up. They are too much fun.

Stuff and stuff

2005-05-30T00:21:00.000-05:00

I got camera happy, but realized I was subjectless with Phil and the ferrets asleep. For me, that always leads to photographing any inanimate object (and a fish) I come across while walking around the apartment.

Memphis musings

2005-04-09T14:45:00.000-05:00

Random shots taken since moving to Memphis...

This is the area directly behind Phil's clinic.

Here's Phil, walking one of the dogs at the clinic.

My workstation.

Gonzo

Felix

The darndest things

2005-02-13T02:59:00.000-06:00

My nephew Casey wrote a speech for 4-H and was selected to move on to the area speech competition for kids in his grade. He didn't win, but he did a really good job and he and Patrick provided me with much amusement.

My mom, who's normally behind the camera.

My sister, looking incredulous about something.

Patrick, the prankster.

Casey, the reader.

One of my favorite photos of all time.

Movers and breakers

2005-02-13T02:31:00.000-06:00

The good news is that we are mostly unpacked.

The moving process begins.

Lots o' crap in good ol' Havenwood A-13.

Amber, Jamie, Billy, the moving crew. Billy and Phil only broke a lamp and the door on my dresser. Not too shabby.

This is the entrance to the new aparment.

What will eventually be the dining room, full of junk.

The living room right as you enter it.

The living room as you head back to the kitchen.

Ferrets have love/hate relationships with suitcases.

And cameras.

The view out of the spare bedroom window. Someday we'll have grass.

A baby story

2004-12-28T02:50:00.000-06:00

Brooke right before the delivery. She had been lying down for hours, numb from the waist down, dilated at 4, when the nurses realized her IV (the one that softens the cervix and dilates you quicker) hadn't been dripping. They fixed it and she jumped up to an 8 in no time.

She was in good spirits right after the delivery, and Rylee was very calm and content, even while being passed from person to person.

Here's Phil's mom Lila, a first-time grandma.

And Phil, a new uncle.

All everyone talked about was how much hair she had.

BJ, the dad, was so nervous he was going to hurt the baby. His hands were all trembly.

Brooke's boyfriend, Cole, with the baby.

Phil offering Brooke his praise and comfort. He was so amazed at how well she did.

Presents from the hospital gift shop: a little doll and a ceramic owl (to represent wisdom, Phil said), and some gum cigars.

Shilling for the J-School

2004-12-14T16:15:00.000-06:00

My first dive into the murky waters of PR turned out pretty well, I think. These will be posted temporarily until I can upload the PDFs onto my portfolio page. Use that underworked imagination of yours to imagine the spreads (2-3, 4-5, 6-7, 8-9). Also, my printing specifications call for a lightweight cardstock, staple-bound. The actual size of these pages is 5 inches by 5 inches, the size of a CD liner booklet.

Bloggidy blog blog

2004-12-12T08:52:00.000-06:00

Just like Kristin and Cheryl, I've got photos to share with the masses.

Xmas party at Nick's, December 10

Jason provided bongo beats for Joey's rendition of the "Taxi" theme song.

Is this intentionally obscene?

Kristin trying to peek in the keyhole of Nick's bedroom, but missing by several drunken inches.

Joey throwing caution to the wind and lighting up a nice, satisfying cancer stick.

Nick and Marie, in his bedroom, pre-coitus. Or whatever. Is all that hair mussed from the wind?!?

Outgoing editor and incoming editor, all mushy and sentimental. Aw!

Joey looks a little flushed after his own encounter with the holiday mystery punch.

Keller celebrating the finer clientele of Hell.

Kristin staving off the DTs by chewing on her cup.

Coxxy, Nick, and Marie, all piles of smiles.

More of Keller pontificating on his doomed soul.

Manda and Matt, laughing in the kitchen.

Cox and Marie, who was wearing (look closely) an American Eagle hoodie – a fact that distressed her greatly.

Joey's semi-semitic profille. You look like a writer, man!

Nick showcasing his festive sweatshirt.

Kristin and Joey, huddling for warmth on the porch.

Jarred (sp?) recovering after a brief wrestling match.

Matt Anderson, a writer, and his girlfriend (or girl friend; I'm not sure which) arrive to the party in plenty of time to witness incoherent co-workers babble on about nothing for hours.