A Poem For Carol


By Nikki Giovanni

when I was very little
though its still true today
there were no sidewalks in Lincoln Heights
and the home we had on Jackson street
was right next to a bus stop and a sewer
which didn't really ever become offensive
but one day from the sewer a little kitten
with one eye gone
came crawling out
though she never really came into our yard but just
sort of hung by to watch the folk
my sister who was always softhearted but able
to act effectively started taking milk
out to her while our father would only say
don't bring him home and every day
after school I would rush home and see if she was still
there and if Gary had fed her but I could never
bring myself to go near her
she was so loving
and so hurt and so singularly beautiful and I knew
i had nothing to give that would
replace her one gone eye.
And if I had named her which I didn't I'm sure
I would have called her carol.


What we're looking at now.

And the season begins. #hottytoddy #sec

Thursday Night Ball.

It is college football season.

For the next nine hours, you can get Forever or To Nashville With Love for 20% off. Just enter GODORES or GOCOCKS at checkout. I'll let you figure out which is which.

Then tonight, come 7:00 in the pm, I will be on the couch, with or without my wife, with a cold one of some sort, getting chill bumps, tearing up, turning off the above discount code.

So get in while you can, settle in with some loved ones, start dreaming about how all our season could go, and go team(s).


What we're looking at now.

Gingham on gingham - hate when that happens. With @nickwritesgood.

At Home in Cornelius

A fine set now proudly hanging along a dining room wall, up in time for the start of football season.

The owner is a self-proclaimed "southern mutt" who has lived in all the states represented, though she says she'll always bleed orange!


From Mass. to The Land Mass.

I'll admit I've not been watching hurricane coverage. We're days' drive away and with the exception of some sprinkles this morning, we've been dry. There isn't talk about Nor'easters yet. Nor about Isaac.

But I have seen the news and the posts and the comments about Mississippi. About the media not naming them, just using 'Land Mass between New Orleans and Mobile.' Now, I'm not going to get into it, cause there doesn't need to be another voice in the yelling or any more fuel to the fire. You can read all kinds about it all over the internet. Here's a good one

I will say that I got a message on our FB page from J. Washburn this morning and I thought it was just beautiful. So here you go.

‎"The "land mass between New Orleans and Mobile" has a rich and complicated history. It gave birth to the Blues & Rock-n-Roll. Maybe you've heard of Elvis, B.B. King, Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters or Robert Johnson. The "land mass between New Orleans and Mobile" inspired and cultivated the likes of Faulkner, Welty, Ambrose, Percy, Foote & Grisham. Of course, you needn't pick up a book, because this land mass is full of great storytellers who need only a porch & a glass of sweet tea. The fields and gyms of the "land mass between New Orleans and Mobile" have produced thousands of world class athletes, though we are partial to the pigskin having trained arguably the greatest quarterback (Favre), running back (Payton) and receiver (Rice) to ever play the game. Our Coast is marked by sugar sand beaches and comes with a bounty of fresh seafood. Our fertile Delta has fed and clothed people the world over. And, if you ask me, there is a little spot east of 
Batesville that is God's country. Let me be clear, though, we are not perfect. There is dark blight in our past. There is still division to be conquered, but there is also unity on many grounds. You see, the people from the "land mass between New Orleans and Mobile" are a proud bunch. We're intensely loyal, hard working and resilient. We are people of faith who'd give the shirts off our backs to help a friend in need, which may explain, despite low wages, why we give a greater percentage of our income to charity than any other state. We still know the value of a firm handshake and looking a person in the eyes. Oh, and weather channel, the "land mass between New Orleans and Mobile" is called Mississippi. Maybe you forgot since after Katrina made landfall on our shores, we rolled up our sleeves and went to work instead of heading for a camera to complain about what the federal government wasn't doing for us."

Y'all be careful over the next bit. Hunker down. Keep an eye out on the neighbors (though we know you will even if we don't say it).

Be well, friends. From us up in this land Mass. to the one down there that has our heart. 


America with a Vengeance.

I've only been to Waltham like one time. It was to drop off a fellow canvaser who'd driven up to New Hampshire on election day of '08 to make sure our man didn't lose the state due to a lack of wide eyed young people knocking on doors to get out the vote.

Anyways, Waltham is one of those real important American cities. Pretty much where the industrial revolution started. The Waltham-Lowell system of labor and production? Waltham Watch Company?  Yeah, this is that Waltham. 


What we're looking at now.

Bully Boy Distillers. Diggit.

At Home in San Francisco.

" Hey, Old Try. My friends tell me regularly that I have the happiest apartment in the city, and it's largely thanks to the two of y'all (they get a kick out of the t-shirt, too!). Thank you so much for your beautiful work; it makes my tiny studio apartment feel like home. " - J.B., San Francisco, CA


Slices of the South.

Our little home is on Apartment Therapy today!

Go give it a look see. Steal some ideas if you like.

Big thanks to Tara Belluci for coming out and making it happen.




Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House

Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House

By Billy Collins
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.        


Squared up in Maine.

My weekend in Maine as told by other folks' Instagram feeds. Tape delayed, of course, due to spotty cell service and one tower trying to service 15,000 folks trying to post pictures in real time.

These folks I was with until I wasn't with them any more. We had a ball.

At Home in NYC.

Our good friend C. Strode has this beaut over her workspace in Manhattan. And her work is so great that we're just honored to be in the same company.


What we're looking at now.

Bourbon Thursday. Celebrating the Mrs. going full time Old Try.

Fugees Family

I teared up when I thought about it. 

After I'd watched the video on Fugees Family (Marianna had already seen it) which was after we'd gotten a call from them. A call asking if we'd donate some prints for their silent auction. A fundraiser to get the necessary funds to build a school for the displaced. For the bruised and the broken. For those who are missing home but who can't go back there again.

Of course we donated some prints. Shipped them down to ATL.