Big Orange, Elvis, and 'Anything Goes'

Here we go again.

UT's football team will trot out the "Smokey Gray" uniforms when they suit up against Florida on Saturday at Shields-Watkins Field. The last year they did this, they lost to Georgia (and Vanderbilt).

(Correction: Macon Vol buddy Dewayne Lawson reminded me that the Vols wore the alternate gray last fall and won. I was unable to watch much of the last two seasons due to illness. Thanks, Dewayne!)

This kind of thing bugs me, but then again, I still wore a tie, or at least a sports coat, when I was a regular in Section NN, south end zone, upper deck. So I'm probably not the best one to ask.

(Even Elvis knew about orange and white while he was here once...)

But, I can face facts. I'm not in the target demographic. Continuing a trend, Tennessee (and a lot of other schools) are directly playing to the iPhone generation. And, to quote Johnny Carson, "a dollar is always a dollar." I guess they think this also helps recruiting.

I know winning football games will. Autumn afternoons at Neyland Stadium do not need PR spin when all is well on Rocky Top.

This has been a strange year. Tennessee is 3-0 and ranked higher than Florida. That should be good news.

But they've looked bad for the most part, especially on offense, in close wins against Appalachian State and Ohio University, and fared a little better in the Barnum and Bailey show at Bristol. But it took awhile.

Ah, but again, this isn't a normal year. Florida's backup quarterback has to start Saturday. Tennessee is also missing players at key positions. Josh Dobbs is running for his life. Nobody can hang onto the ball. But the defense is doing well, all things considered, and the Vols go after the Gators at home. 

So who knows.

I miss a lot of Tennessee traditions. I miss the walking horse. I miss John Ward and Bill Anderson. I miss anyone with institutional knowledge.

(I don't miss "Third Down For What.")

But, in my quieter moments, I know it's all soap bubbles. Gridiron games no longer make nor break my weekends. Going through a chronic illness and living to tell the tale puts things in perspective.

I do think Tennessee should wear orange and white uniforms at home. Maybe they can get away with wearing all orange once every 10 years. I did like that one-shot black and orange jersey on Halloween.

Ah, well. To quote Cole Porter, "But now, God knows, anything goes..."

And let's be honest: If UT ends this 11-season losing streak, few will care, nor remember, what they were wearing when they did it.

(But that still doesn't mean I have to like it.)

New sound, no silence; Garfunkel shines in Knox

Anticipation mounted.

You knew it was coming. The only question was when. And then:

Hello, darkness, my old friend;
I've come to talk with you again...

I hit my knee with my hand, not to keep time, but to reassure myself that I was six or eight rows back from Art Garfunkel, hearing a song that has long haunted my life.

He was here in Knox Vegas last night at the town's best acoustic venue, the intimate, inviting Bijou Theatre. And, oh, how the memories quickly mounted.

Even without Paul Simon, Garfunkel was great. More than great. He was grand, and I'll tell you why. Art Garfunkel has recovered from a vocal cord problem. That voice, the soaring voice that took us on the "Bridge Over Troubled Water," was nearly silenced.

No, no. Art worked hard. It healed.

And he went back on the road. It's just him, a guitarist, and occasional appearances by his son Art Jr. When father and son sang together, oh, boy. Oh, boy.

In between songs, he interspersed pieces of poetry he's written. So, when he took questions, I asked him which poet inspires him. His answer? Dylan Thomas. Makes sense, doesn't it?

Somebody told him that Phil Everly, whom we lost last month, went to West High School. He didn't know that, liked it, and paid homage to Phil and Don, whose harmonies influenced everybody from Garfunkel and Simon (I feel like reversing that order for once!) to John, Paul, George and Ringo.

Time marches on, as it must. Garfunkel looks like an accountant who's nearing retirement. Gone is the big hair and the tall, slender physique.

But that voice? It endures.

Garfunkel got standing ovations for "The Sound of Silence" and "Bridge."

No, he didn't go for the gold at the end of the latter song. That's OK. He didn't have to.

He's already been there.

'Lolly-Madonna' director dies

Richard Sarafian, who among other things directed "Lolly-Madonna XXX" (not an adult movie), filmed in Union County (Tenn.) in the summer of 1972, has died.

Sarafian is perhaps best known for the cult classic "Vanishing Point." His fans included Warren Beatty and Quentin Tarantino, according to the Associated Press.

Here is the AP story.

P.S. If you are Kathy Watts (Knoxville Central High School Class of 1971, who appeared in that film), please call me at 865-922-4136. I would love to interview you for the Shopper-News or even talk informally.

A burger fit for a king (and Dolly's still the queen)

Well, I was in a bit of a pickle for about 15 minutes last night. Meeting friends at a new (to me) restaurant on Market Square -- The Stock and Barrel -- I noticed the specialties were burgers and bourbon.

I'm a beer guy when it comes to potent potables, so that was no problem. But did they ever have a selection of burgers.

"What shall I get?" I said to myself as I scanned the menu.

And then I saw it.

Peanut butter. Fried bananas. Bentons' bacon.

I know what you're thinking. And you're right. The burger is called The Elvis.

I did a double take. Too good to be true. But no. It was there.

I came. I ate. I conquered.

Next time you're downtown, stop by. The service and food are superb. And, chances are, you'll find a burger you will love, whether it's The Elvis or The Billy or even the Free Bird.

Oh, and by the way: in case you missed it, my buddy Bradley Reeves had a fantastic show last night on WDVX-FM. Boy, howdy. The highlight of the evening were RARE Dolly Parton recordings, including a live performance from 1960 on a Maryville, Tenn., radio show and some other goodies.

Do not miss this one, y'all. The program will be archived for two weeks and can be found by visiting the WDVX website, clicking on Archives, scrolling to Thursday, Sept. 5, and beginning with the 10 p.m. hour "East Tennessee Quiver." The rare Dolly recordings begin about 11 p.m.

Wait until you hear Dolly sing "Making Believe." That's country music, y'all.

Kicking off Elvis Week

Hi gang.

Sorry it's been awhile since I've pulled up a chair. Had some fun with sciatica (insert your old man joke here) and a killer migraine that didn't want to quit.

Tomorrow kicks off Elvis Week. Nope, I won't be walking in Memphis, but I am going to commit to blogging something about The King for seven straight days, culminating with the special show that Brad Reeves and I will be doing on WDVX-FM at 10 p.m. (Eastern) Thursday, Aug. 15, that will include a tribute to Elvis. Don't miss it -- 89.9 FM or 102.9 FM in Knoxville, TN or online at www.wdvx.com.

This photo is from Elvis' March 15, 1974, concert at Stokely Athletics Center in Knoxville. Somebody had given him an orange and white "guitar." Go Vols!

Happy Elvis Week. And hail, hail rock and roll!

'Once Upon a Summertime'

There we were, together again, me and Mike Finn, The Square Room, downtown, Robinella, Jazz Lunch.

Mike and I spent most Sunday nights together for several years, listening to Robin sing, back in the good ol' days. Mike is celebrating his 70th birthday and invited some friends and coworkers out for lunch. It felt good.

Robin performed a tribute to Blossom Dearie, the dearly departed jazz singer and pianist, one of the last of the great New York supper club singers. She opened with "Once Upon a Summertime," and weaved her magic web around everything from Charlie Chaplin's "Smile" to Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Surrey with the Fringe on Top."

I floated away, to that place I go whenever my buddy Robin makes her music, a destination I like to call "stop-time." Because time stops. And for an hour or so the whole darn world makes perfect sense. The colors faded to glorious monochrome and all we needed was a slow-moving ceiling fan and a wisp of cigarette smoke.

Her band today included the fantastic Justin Haynes on piano, trumpeter Vance Thompson, bassist Clint Mullican, percussionist Nolan Nevels and a great guitarist whose name I didn't catch. She closed with "Moonlight Saving Time" and I floated out the door.

Robin has a new CD coming out this month, one she recorded with jazz guitarist Frank Vignola in New York. Stay tuned.

One thing I noticed as I walked back to the car was the hustling, bustling scene on Market Square. Vendors were selling their wares. Kids were playing in a splash pad. If you haven't heard the news, y'all, downtown Knox Vegas is filled with life.

And so was I this afternoon, my belly full of food and my mind mad with music, sweet and simple and sad, once upon a summertime.

Just in time for the 30th anniversary...

...I bought a complete set of the infamous 1982 World's Fair Beer.

Well, why not? You only live once, right?

The beer isn't exactly considered a classic -- that is being kind -- and you can't drink them now.

But, it is a little slice of Knoxville history and memorabilia from our city's magic moment. In a way, it still seems like a fairy tale, or a chapter from someone else's life.

Tangible trinkets prove otherwise. My World's Fair drinking glasses from Wendy's, for instance. Or my "I Was There On Closing Day!" campaign-sized button. And, now, the beer.

Think also of how the Knoxville skyline would be different without the Butcher brothers and the fair. No Sunsphere. No Holiday Inn. No amphitheater. No glass-paneled bank building. Or that other skyscraper beside it, the former Southern Industrial building. Dare I say it: we might still be a scruffy little river city....

Has it really been 30 years?

Central Avenue, Rainy Day

Sick gift from my wonderful wife.

Yep, it's a Jim Gray print of a section of what is now called The Old City in Knoxville, looking toward the old Patrick Sullivan's saloon.

"Central Avenue, Rainy Day."

I am a lucky feller or what?

Coming attractions...

Coming soon to Pull Up A Chair...

A piece of gonzo-inspired journalism, entitled...

"Fear and Loathing: In Knox Vegas"

A smile would have sufficed...

I fear I am becoming Andy Rooney in my old age (minus the talent, of course), but here's a little rant for today.

What the heck ever happened to manners? Especially by someone in a service-oriented business.

Take the post office for example.

One can't make generalizations. The gentleman that used to deliver the mail to my house is a fantastic, conscientious guy. He once even delivered Christmas presents I had shipped to my house to my office because, he said, "Thieves are stealing packages delivered to doorsteps left and right."

The same can not be said for the guy that delivered the mail today.

I went hobbling out to the mailbox (sprained knee) trying to get an important piece of mail in the post today.

"Just my luck," I thought. "The mail carrier is still here."

He was parked beside our centrally-located mailboxes, feet up, reading a magazine. I guess he was taking either a lunch break or a break.

"Hello, sir," I said. "I have an outgoing package for you."

The postman looked pissed that I had interrupted his lunchtime pause. (But he wasn't eating.) Without smiling and without acknowledging my greeting, he took my package, said a weak, whispering, "thank you," scowling the entire time, and went back to his periodical.

The post office is in trouble. Jobs are up in the air. The guy was on break. I get all that.

But his lack of simple, everyday manners, ones you would give to servers, attendants, or a stranger while holding open a door, made me hope this guy is the first person the post office sends packing.

When it's fourth down and 15, and your job is literally on the line, sometimes you don't punt the ball. Sometimes you go for it. Sometimes you even throw a Hail Mary.

Didn't need all of that. But a simple smile would have sufficed.

Addendum: Since this post went up, two friends made great comments. One said -- and this thought did go through my mind -- the guy might've been having a bad day. "If he does it again, kill him with kindness." Good advice. I did do that today, in fact. Smiled broadly and thanked him. Still wish he hadn't taken out his bad day -- if that's what it was -- on a customer.

Another said, "How could anybody (working for the post office) smile today?" Good point, too. Guy might be scared to death he's going to get canned. Still, I think I'd be bending over backward to do my job to the best of my ability if this were the case. Sometimes the best defense is a good offense.

I am happy to report this guy is the exception to the rule -- in my experience. The postal workers at the Halls and Fountain City branches have gone out of their way to help me, each and every time, as has every other delivery driver with which I have dealt.

Does anybody know someone named "Kristi Isbel"?

OK, I'm finally going public with this because I'm getting tired of it:

Starting a few years ago, I've been getting emails addressed to a "Kristi Isbel." It went so far as to also list in some of them what turned out to be a bogus snail mail address on Beeler Road in North Knox County.

Does anybody know whether there is a real Kristi Isbel? If so, she and I might be victims of identity theft.

Please know that I am doing whatever I can to determine who has done this and will fund an identity theft investigation if necessary.

Where were you in '82?

World's Fair. Knoxville, Tenn. My hometown. Thirty years ago.

Going to the 1982 World's Fair isn't my first memory. But it's one of the highlights of childhood. My dad to this day says all I talked about that year was wanting to go to the "1982 World's Fair."

Remember the TV commercials? "You've GOT to be there!"

What I remember is walking past a gate, Dad holding me while we went into the Sunsphere (which I thought was HUGE at the time), eating Chinese food for the first time, and seeing my cousin, Sheila, who worked at the fair.

The large Rubik's Cube (the popular toy was introduced at the fair) now resides in the lobby of the Holiday Inn next to the Sunsphere. I saw it by happenstance last Saturday. My friend Dean Harned tells me the Ferris wheel that was here is now in New York.

The fair was former Knoxville banker Jake Butcher's triumph. And, with Shakespearean irony, his family's banking empire began to collapse the day after the fair closed that October. The reason? Bank examiners couldn't book hotel rooms.

The "scruffy little river city" showed it could do it and, yep, that fair actually made a profit. The USA has only hosted one other World's Fair since '82 (New Orleans in '84.)

Sadly, the city of Knoxville neglected the World's Fair site for many years. The U.S. Pavilion was imploded in 1991. The Sunsphere itself was closed to visitors until then Knoxville Mayor Bill Haslam reopened the observation deck to the public in 2007. (Oh, I forgot to tell you: I did eat in the revolving restaurant up there in 1983-84.) For years and years, the fair site's amphitheater was used as a storage area.

The 1996 episode of "The Simpsons" that spoofed the site was dead-on in some ways, even though the Sunsphere never did house wigs. Heh, heh.

The good news is all that has changed. The Sunsphere, as I mentioned, is open. The amphitheater is no longer storing boxes. The World's Fair Park has a splash pad and is usually filled with folks on sunny, warm days.

Ahh, what memories, 30 years ago. Can't believe it and part of me still can't believe Knoxville did it.

But did it Knoxville did!

Good story on Jon Frid from the 'Telebuddy'

Knoxville.com and Knoxville News Sentinel TV columnist Terry Morrow has written a great piece about the late Jonathan Frid and Jon's portrayal of Barnabas Collins on "Dark Shadows."

It can be found here: http://www.knoxville.com/news/2012/apr/24/terry-morrow-in-the-end-barnbas-collins-of-dark/

He mentions that Lara Parker, who played the witch Angelique on the '60s ABC-TV daytime series, was born here in Knoxville. I did some research; she was born as Mary Lamar Rickey, but I have no idea how long she lived here.

The Telebuddy says it better than I did, folks.

Straight from the heart

Days like today make me want to set sail for the South Pacific and never look back.

Since that's only going to happen in my dreams, at least for awhile, I'll take what I can get. Today, that meant a smile and a story at the Northside Kiwanis Club from the one-and-only Bill Williams.

For those who don't live in Knoxville, Bill Williams is our version of Walter Cronkite. He anchored or co-anchored the WBIR-TV news from 1977 until his retirement in 2000. (If I have those dates mixed up, Bill, I apologize.) He returned briefly in 2006 -- to cheers -- when anchor Ted Hall took a job in Atlanta.

We've known Bill and his wife, Wanda, since back in the days when my dad and uncle coached football at Halls Community Park. I am quite proud that, after living on the lake for awhile, they both now live in Halls.

Bill was everything a news anchor should be -- honest, trustworthy, fair, an active member of the community. He plays the piano. He tells a good tale.

Bill founded "Monday's Child," a long-running segment on WBIR that helps children with special needs find a home. He has also lent his considerable talents to Mission of Hope, which aids residents in rural Appalachia. Bill is the real deal. Straight from the heart, you might say.

He has long been an inspiration, both as a journalist and as a human being, and seeing him for a few minutes helped chase away the rain.

'A Walk in the Spring Rain'

Tonight I am watching a movie that was partially filmed in my hometown.

The picture is "A Walk in the Spring Rain." It was shot in Knoxville, Cades Cove and Gatlinburg, Tenn., in 1969 and stars Fritz Weaver, Ingrid Bergman and Anthony Quinn. Aside from getting to see a beautiful Bergman in the twilight of her career, and glimpses of what several familiar locations looked like 40 years ago, there's not much to say.

This movie could have been something of a classic. According to the Turner Classic Movies website, Bergman was intrigued by the film because she liked the story, wanted to work with Quinn again (they'd starred together in "The Visit" five years earlier) and had complained that few film roles were then being written for women of her age (she was 54 at the time).

The film focuses on a professor (Weaver) and his wife (Bergman) who travel to the Great Smoky Mountains so the professor can write a book during a year-long sabbatical. Quinn plays the man who rents the couple a home. He also falls in love with Bergman.

"A Walk in the Spring Rain" is an old-fashioned film even for 1970. In an era of raging sexual revolution ("The Graduate," for example, looks like soft porn compared to this), the film treats the extra-marital affair rather conservatively. Bergman was radiant even in middle age and Weaver and Quinn do the best they can. But the movie suffers from a weak script and careless direction by Guy Green, best known as being the cameraman for David Lean on "Great Expectations" and "Oliver Twist." One neat cultural note is that actor and martial arts legend Bruce Lee choreographed the fight scene between Quinn and his "son" (Tom Fielding, aka Tom Holland).

Gatlinburg was already beginning to become cluttered with the touristy clap-trap for which it's famous (yes, the Old Smoky Candy Kitchen is still there) and Ayres Hall on the UT campus looks exactly the same! (I wonder if the heat and air actually worked back then.) The Smokies are beautiful in any decade.

"A Walk in the Spring Rain" premiered in Knoxville at the Tennessee Theatre on April 9, 1970. Bergman sat next to Rachel Maddux, the author of the novel on which the film is based. Bergman later remembered that Maddux kept saying things like "What is this?" during the screening and at one point went to the restroom and cried.

Bergman wrote in her memoirs: "I went after her and tried to comfort her...The film had been a good try. We'd started off with such high hopes. I thought maybe we could do a film with that elusive feeling which 'Brief Encounter' [1945] had. We'd worked hard. We'd done our best and at the end of it we'd made Rachel Maddux cry."

I have had a crush on Ingrid Bergman since I first saw "Casablanca" as a kid. This film could have been so much more, a touching tale of broken dreams and middle-age regret. But as it is, it's a wasted opportunity, a classic example of a director biting off less than he could chew.

With this cast, he should have had a goldmine. Instead, he fell down the shaft.

Black Lillies triumphant at Bijou

Every now and then, if you're blessed or just plain lucky, you'll find yourself in a theater filled to capacity. The atmosphere? Electric. The music? Magic.

It happened last night at the Bijou with the Black Lillies. Sold out. Super.

I was in the Old City nearly two years ago when I first heard Cruz Contreras (nee of the CCStringband fame) open up his mouth and sing. Having only heard his picking from his years leading the band for Robinella, my jaw dropped and my butt nearly hit the floor when he began his unique country crooning.

Oh, it's country, and then again, it isn't. This is Americana at its finest, music that needs no label, songs that stand alone.

You can read elsewhere about the band's history and personnel changes. Here, I will talk about last night, which will last with me for a long, long time.

It was a concert and a celebration, a release party, in fact, for the band's new CD, "100 Miles of Wreckage." Oh, how they jammed, Cruz and Jamie Cook and Robert Richards and Trisha Gene Brady and the terrific Tom Pryor, who plucks that pedal steel like nobody else. Cruz's brother, Billy, stopped by, too, to rosin up his bow.

Cruz and Halls High grad Trisha Gene weaved their harmony into a tapestry of tunes, Appalachian in its honesty. Jill Andrews (nee of the Everybodyfields) popped up, too, to sing her duet "The Arrow" with Cruz, from the new album. Awesome.

The showstopper slipped up on us, as the Lillies made their way to the lip of the stage to accentuate the Bijou's acoustics on "unplugged" renditions of "Go to Sleep" and the band's best single to date, "Whiskey Angel." You know you've made it when the entire audience sings along, even on the verses, no less.

And make it this band will. They must. It would give those who remember what roots music really sounds like a reason to believe in quality amid the crap.

We danced, we pranced and we pined for more. And the band obliged, coming back along with members of the opening act, the New Familiars, to jam on jumpin' versions of The Marshall Tucker Band's "Fire on the Mountain" and Townes Van Zandt's"White Freight Liner Blues."

It was a moment -- and it worked. Nearly religious. Neat.

Last trip to Regas

Took our last trip to Regas yesterday.

Bittersweet. Good meal. Thanks for the memories.

Heard the news about its closing while in Townsend a couple of weekends ago. Knew we had to go back. Jenn and I had enjoyed a special meal there in the summer. It was her first trip.

For me, the memories go back a ways. We used to spend our New Year's Eves there. Dinner and a movie. Just about every year.

If you missed Jack Neely's Metro Pulse piece about Knoxville's oldest restaurant, surf on over to the MP website and check it out. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Good piece, huh? Funny to think that Regas was once a lunch counter. And that the late Dave "Wendy's" Thomas once worked there.

Regas was always the place to go when something special was going down. I'd almost always wear a coat and tie. Always dressed up. Never once received bad service. Not once.

I loved the steak and the Scrod. And the red velvet cake, if I left room.

Didn't feel well at all yesterday. Darn migraine has lasted nearly six days. But such was the pull of the place that we couldn't not go. One more time. For auld lang syne.

Amanda Noel came out of the kitchen to greet us. Hard to believe she's all grown up. Darn good chef, too.

In years past, I saw Jake Butcher, met Howard Baker in the front lobby, dined with mayors, but never ordered lobster.

Now it's leaving us and I think a part of our community is leaving with it. The dress requirements -- sadly -- have long been relaxed. But, for me, Regas will always be synonymous with class, fine dining, good service, great food, coat and tie, special night, New Year's Eve.

Here's to you, for auld lang syne, lest we forget.

Cas Walker and other fun tales

So you should have been out at the Halls Senior Center last Tuesday when Larry Mathis and Bud Brewster broke into Cas Walker's old "Farm and Home Hour" theme song.


When the mornin' paper hits the street/Cas Walker's prices can't be beat...


Larry and Bud were part of the program at the Halls Business and Professional Association's monthly meeting hosted by "Heartland Series" guy Bill Landry. Landry, thanks to the Hallsdale Powell Utility District, is going to spearhead an Appalachian Experience for students at Halls High School. It seems like a pretty fun deal.

And, who knows? They might actually learn a little bit about where we came from.

You'd like Larry and Bud. They are two fellas who have never met a stranger.

I'm still laughing at some of their Cas Walker stories. You can read my interview with them in Monday's Shopper-News or beginning Sunday night under my name at www.ShopperNewsNow.com.

I guess my favorite Cas Walker story is the time he buried the guy in the parking lot of one of his grocery stores. As nutty as he was, Cas was light-years ahead of his time when it came to publicity.

You should hear some of the tales. Yes, it's true that he once punched former county commissioner Billy Tindell's mother on live television. Yes, it's true that he punched former city council member Jim Cooper during a discussion about property tax rates.

Another good one is the time Cas showed up late for a Knoxville city council meeting.

"Mr. Walker..." the clerk said as Cas walked in the door.

"I'm agin' it," Cas replied.

The clerk was calling the roll.

When Larry hit the high notes on Cas's song (Do all your shoppin' at the Cas Walker store...), I looked around the room and saw nothing but smiles.

Love him or hate him, Cas Walker was one of a kind.

Somewhere amid the madness

It's got to stop. We've got to make it stop.

You live out in the 'burbs, kind of carry a naive view of the world with you anyway, love black-and-white movies and don't get into too much trouble. Life, for the most part, is good.

Then something like yesterday's church shooting happens and all that gets thrown out the window.

Words fail you at a time like this. A loner, apparently bitter with rage over perceived slights by the "liberals," opened fire on a sanctuary full of innocents yesterday in West Knoxville -- during a children's play.

Thank God no kids were injured. But they witnessed this tragedy. And, now, two people are dead.

Reports are surfacing today that the accused shooter's ex-wife was a longtime member of the church. The alleged shooter, apparently, hated "blacks, gays, anybody different from him."

How does something like this happen? How can somebody become poisoned by such animalistic rage, such utter contempt for their fellow human beings, that they decide to do something so utterly unthinkable?

What I hope comes out of this is the same thing I hoped would happen after 9/11: that we tone down the rhetoric, stop yelling at each other, sit down, and listen. Just listen. One person starts talking, the other one listens. Then you flip flop and repeat the process. We've got a whole lot more in common than the things that divide us, I promise you.

I got home last night and read a few pages from the latest Newsweek about a kid who was shot to death in a California school because of his sexual orientation. I turned out the lights and thought about things for a long, long time. My last conscious thought was, "What kind of a world have we created?"

It's difficult to understand the anger. All you have to do is watch people drive down the street. God forbid you pull out in front of them. You might just get shot.

My work takes me into the schools from time to time. Some of the ugly things you hear children saying to one another will shock you.

I don't know where all this comes from. I don't so much buy into the "blame the movies" bit. One of my favorite films is "Death Wish" and I've never once felt the inclination to take to the streets to kill criminals. After watching a beloved Bugs Bunny cartoon, I've never once hit anybody with an oversized mallet. I don't know what the answer is.

But, I do know that somewhere amid the madness, we've got to start to listen to each other. We've got to quit insulting. We've got to stop getting angry over nothing, harboring resentments for years, and make things right and try to love each other. The sad fact is we're not guaranteed tomorrow. We may never get another chance.

I think I've finally figured out why I love old, sappy westerns, baseball, black-and-white TV from the '50s and going to hear Robinella sing on Sunday nights. In part, I think it's because I need something I can count on, something that will give me the illusion of continuity, something that will make me forget about the world and its harsh realities for an hour or two.

I'm corny. I like movies with happy endings. I like TV shows about families that could never have existed anywhere in America. I like it when John Wayne catches the bad guys at the end of the picture. I like Robin's sweet songs about love and loss.

I don't like the anger I see around me. I don't like to hear about a shooting -- in a church sanctuary, of all places.

I am moved at the heroism of the man who put himself in harm's way yesterday to literally take a bullet for his congregation.

But I hope with all my being that we do everything we can to create a society in which such sacrifice is never needed.

'What if'?

CHATTANOOGA -- Spend a few hours here, and a fella from Knox Vegas can't help but ask, "What if?"

AT&T Field is nudged comfortably into downtown, as all ballparks should be, just a stone's throw from three hotels and up the hill from that cool aquarium. It's within walking distance of several restaurants. You can get to and from the interstate with ease. People are actually walking around downtown on a Monday night.

Ahh, our neighbor to the south has one-upped us.

We arrived at the ballpark an hour or so before first pitch. I walked into the gift shop and secured a Lookouts hat that I'd wanted for several years. Then I walked around the concourse for a few minutes before stopping to flirt with the girl working the Yuengling table.

Our seats are on the first row, literally behind home plate. I chew on my burger, fill out my scorecard and again ask myself, "What if?"

"Man, if the Smokies played in a park like this downtown, I'd be there every night during the season."

But, they play in Kodak, another county away, and gas is four bucks a gallon. Sigh.

Chattanooga jumps out to a 4-0 lead in the second over the visiting West Tennessee Diamond Jaxx. Looks like a blowout's brewin', but Jaxx starter Travis Chick settles in and doesn't allow another run during the five other innings he works. The Lookouts, in fact, fail to score again.

But the Jaxx whittle away, taking advantage of those dreaded late-innings walks. Their cleanup hitter, right fielder Mike Wilson, sends a shot out to left-center in the fourth, providing the offensive highlight of the game.

The Lookouts have to send five pitchers to the mound, but they stave off the comeback, and Derrik Lutz wiggles out of a jam in the 9th to win 4-3.

We walk into a picture-perfect summer night amid happy partisans. Several hop on a trolley waiting at the bottom of the hill. Others head toward one of the hotels.

I walk in the direction of the parking lot across from the aquarium and curse Victor Ashe for the 100th time for letting my team escape to Sevier County.