A DAY OF PATRIOTISM

Today, I am proud to be American.

Congratulations, Joey.

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Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

CRAZY SINGER

There's a great restaurant called Hillbilly Hideaway. It's one of those one meal on the menu style places. They also have music in the barn out back (NO DANCING, DRINKING, OR CUSSING). There's an old man who I believe owns/previously owned the place singing in the barn every time we go. He'll forget words, sing a little off key, the usual stuff that will get you kicked of American Idol, but he's very entertaining. That's who I was trying to draw.

Instead, this crazy looking dude is what materialized. Funny how life can be.

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LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

CHOCOLATE PUSHER

Want some... Candy?

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LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

FRUITY SERIES: BANANA

This is a very serious picture of a very serious fruit: The Banana. There is nothing funny about a banana, so if you have the giggles, get them out now.

Done? No? Fine, I'll wait.

Ready? Good. Some people, like Kirk Cameron of TV sitcom Growing Pains fame, believe this fruit to be evidence of G*d. I mean, it comes in it's own wrapper! How convenient! In a nutshell (well, peel, actually), the banana is an icon for the MEANING OF LIFE.

In summation, Bananas: Not funny. Banana peels, however, comedy GOLD.

Bid here.

PATH TO HERBIE'S 2

Here we are, continuing along the path on our way to breakfast. This is me. Why am I so colorless, you ask? Because I'm hungry. That's why I'm going to Herbie's. If you're not hungry, you have no business going there.

So this is my second listing this week that involves a picture of me. Am I becoming too self-absorbed? Or am I just self-absorbed enough? What is the perfect degree of self-absorbtion?

Anyway, here's a groovy little pic for your viewing enjoyment. Coming up next in this series: the building, maybe a waitress (she'll have to check with her agent, first. All waitresses have agents, right? They did in NYC), and the food. Mmm, good times.

Bid here.

SOUTHERN IMMERSION NIGHT

The wife and I, we like to understand the culture we're living in so we can appreciate it more. I mean, you wouldn't move to NYC and never try a bagel, right? Fortunately, we've made some friends who have taken on the challenge of explaining the ways of our new home. So last Saturday night, we had dinner at a place called Hillbilly Hideaway, an all-you-can-eat no-menu kind of place with fried chicken, ribs, cornbread, beans, coleslaw, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, some other kind of delcious bread, ham, cooked apples, and of course sweet tea to drink. No booze and no dancing, so bring the preacher kind of place. I gorged.

Out back, they had a little stage where bluegrass and country is played to aid the digestion. I successfully resisted the urge to dance. It wasn't easy. I wanted to go up there and sing along.

After a while, we headed out to the drive-in to watch Talladega Nights. I haven't been to a drive-in since I was knee-high to a grasshopper (the movie was Bambi. I've been a fan of venison ever since). Yeah, I said it. I'll say it again: knee-high to a grasshopper. Got a problem with that? Didn't think so.

Drive-ins are far superior to movie theaters. The movie was very funny, even though they mixed up Busch series cars with Nextel. I managed to keep my NASCAR snobbery to myself so as not to diminish the experience for others. Another thing that was unrealistic: they had Kyle Petty qualifying 4th at Talladega. Kyle, you're great, but you and I both know that won't happen.

Anyway, good times were had by all. Next week: moonshine and snake-handling.

PATH TO HERBIE'S

One of our concerns when the wife and I moved from Brooklyn to Greensboro was whether we'd ever walk again. Not that the move did anything to our legs, mind you. It's just that now we have a car, and things are farther away. Fortunately, there's a wooded path that leads right to a great little diner called Herbie's.

It makes for a great Saturday morning stroll. Lots of trees, cardinals and bluejays fighting epic battles, squirrels and chipmunks competing in the "Who's Cuter" contest, fawns prancing, the seven dwarves whistling, bunnies hopping, the whole kit n' kaboodle.

Also note the Mrs with her nice purse and sweater. I'm going for the country vs city contrast that exists in reality.

Herbie's, by the way, is awesome. We easily put back all the calories we lose on the walk over. As it should be.

Want it? You know what to do.

WE'RE NOT IN BROOKLYN ANYMORE, TOTO

The wife and I attended our first local track (Bowman Gray Stadium in Winston Salem) evening of races. This is one of the reasons we moved. What's that I hear? Some lame, tired joke about left turns? What's that other sound I hear? Ah, that would be the dulcet tone of me smacking you upside your head.

Here's the evidence:

DEMOLITION!!!

Ballparks are overated:

And a gratuitous rib-eating shot:

Now, back to your regularly scheduled artyness.