Opening Up A Can of Whoop Ass

As you know we went up to be with my FIL during and after his surgery, and then to make arrangements for his funeral. Since we were staying overnight, we went to eat at a local restaurant which celebrates the mountainous region in both decor and Appalachian merchandise. It's a great place for down home atmosphere. You can get fudge in just about every flavor, mint, pistachio, hazelnut, caramel and so forth. Which is a draw for a chocolate lover like me.

The fare at this restaurant is, of course, indicative of the south, including, pinto beans, cornbread, corn fritters, ham, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, slaw and gravy.

The owners and waiters are extra nice and offer the kind of service one wishes to find at every restaurant. There are even log cabins to rent alongside. Some of you may have already guessed what this place is. If you guessed the Smokehouse in Monteagle, TN., you were right.

I adore the Smokehouse! Our niece and nephew had a double wedding reception there many years ago. It was a grand affair with over 5 different flavors of wedding cake. Yum! (I love cake!)

But what I really love about the Smokehouse is the southern cred it brings to heart. It is there, and only there, that you can literally open up a can of Whoop Ass without worrying about saying, "Whoop Ass!" ;) (Those who know me know how hard that is for me to do with the LTC around. Imagine his chagrin when I repeated the name of the item over and over again, while pointing at the can.) Pirate!

And so as an ode to my fellow southern friends here at Okay, Listen Here. I give you the ever valuable can to whoop about, in triplet.



Not to be outdone by a can of Road Kill or Stewed & Potted Possums!




(I failed to mention that I passed on buying a can of Butt Grease or that I brought back a can of Whoop Ass for each of my blogmates.)

A disclaimer: Said can of Whoop Ass may accompany me on excursions on the road, indoors or at home where I will say "Whoop Ass" to my heart's content. Pirate!

When have you wanted to open up a can of Whoop Ass? Do tell!

This message will self-destruct when my mouth tires of saying Whoop Ass.

Doe, A Deer, A Female Deer

Sometimes you’re driving along, mind on a myriad of things you’ve got to do during the day, and something wicked this way comes. I’m not talking about the strange driving habits of drivers, women applying make-up, early risers grabbing breakfast, businessmen doing e-mail on iphones or blackberries, speed demons on crack or the slowest turtles on asphalt. I’m talking about images that stir your heart-strings, parents and siblings dropping their children off for school, elderly making an early day of it and driving into the city to shop, and gifts from God. You know them, the ones that jump out at you when you least expect it, like those who welcome stagnate drivers into the pack of traffic. And, I’m talking road kill. (Now if you’re a member of the Clampits, this would be a very pleasant gift indeed.)

It just so happens I'm not a Clampit. I passed skunks and raccoons today on the way to work, but had no such urge to stop and make Road Kill Stew. But what tugged my heartstrings was when I passed a deer lying dead in the median of the road, spread eagle on its stomach. Obviously, the doe had tried to cross the highway during the night or in the wee morning. Sadly, she only made it half-way across. So the obvious question I asked myself was why does a deer cross the road? This question may open up a truck load of jokes, but this poor deer got me to thinking. What was the deer after, better grass, water, bedding? Was the doe returning to her home from the wrong side of the road? Did she leave orphaned bambi’s in her wake? Better yet… what would life have been like had she not tried to cross?

Christine Glover blogged wonderfully about facing fear February 8th at: Digging Out of Distraction

Does the scenery change if we don’t look? Can our lives improve if we don’t make an effort? There are always things we can do to improve our lives. Self-help books cover bookstore shelves. How-to books and Idiot’s Guides supply the information society needs to tackle anything new/different. Do we dare ask ourselves whether we are we better off not learning?

Fear of growing, of stepping out and trying new things chains many of us to the basement. How do you break away from old habits? How do you summon the strength to move past something in your life that is holding you hostage? By simply confronting your fears head on. You might have the 'deer in the headlight look' at first, but given practice, you will become more nimble and better equiped to face every challenge.

I recently opened a fortune cookie that said, “Only the brave have fear.” This simple saying set me on a path of stepping out in faith. But even faith has its limits. What ifs have a tendency to carry the day. What if I don’t final in that contest? What if I get a rejection for this book I’ve poured my heart into? What if I never sell a book? And in keeping with Valentine’s month, what if I never find love again?

The answer is so simple it’s hard to see the truth. What if you never put yourself out there? How close will you be? What if you don’t try to get that luscious tall grass growing thickly on the meadow? You know the one you haven’t found a way to reach?

Will you sit down and salivate, dreaming of the rich texture of the grass within your teeth? Will you throw down paper and quill without taking a chance that someone, somewhere may ‘get it’ and enjoy the stories you write? You will never know unless you leap across the road or allow your stories to leap across the page. The only danger you have to fear is fear itself.

Channel the doe. Be nimble like a deer. Jump the road that blocks your path. Put fear in your rearview window. Fear has no control over you, over what you do or desire to do. Fear, in essence, is the car blocking your path, preventing you from reaching that 'thing' you want most in life.

What road have you been desperate to cross? Is there a ‘crick’ or a ‘creek’ in your way? Remember you can’t lead a horse to drink, but you can teach a horse to jump.