Happy New Year's Hal and Mals

Well the New Year is upon us, gang. In a few hours, the Western Hemisphere will be ringing in the tidings of 2008. Your Expatriate, dear reader, will be spending a quiet safe New Year's here at my fortified compound in the Northern most reaches of the Great State, sipping Ice Picks and contemplating my writing endeavors.

I want to send out the blessings of a New Year to all of my family, and to my wonderful friends throughout this wide world, who I cannot be with tonight, especially my dear friends in Jacktown, a few of which will be ringing in 2008 at one of my favorite rathkellers, Hal and Mals.

Happy New Year's Hal and Mals, happy New Year's Katie, Todd, Jenn, Laura, Lucy, Zuga, G-man, and most of all, happy New Years Frank. Thank you for the picture.

Ghost Writing

I watched Stephen King's "Salem's Lot" today. During college I took a great class in Gothic literature and my professor stated very plainly that of all of King's books, "Salem's Lot" was the best and one of the best additions to the American canon of literature. I have read the book a few times, and I have to say this made for television movie is a good interpretation of it.

Anyone that knows King, knows that he common elements are the supernatural, fear, children, memories, a return and redemption. What is interesting is that "Salem's Lot" incorporates all of King's classic elements and places them in an almost 19th century tale of vampires. Genius, pure genius.

I always try to write, but its people like King who figure out what it really takes to be a writer.

Today at the bar I had a discussion with a woman about poetry. She told me a few of her poems. They were interesting, perhaps a little grandiose, but they kept your attention and she had good diction. I was accommodating, but disagreed with her about one point. Her idea of writing is that a person should use writing as an emotional outlet and at least for her, her writing comes from pent up emotions and flow outward like a waterfall. Sort of a catharsis on paper. Therapists have recommended this approach for years. I have to say, in much of my writing, I do the same thing. I wait for a creative burst and let it spill out onto paper. However, for me, a true writer is someone who learns to control these bursts and let them come out in a slow fashion. Careful, calculated and diligent. She disagreed and said the best work came from sudden bursts. Its a tough argument, but I have to imagine that Faulkner, Hemingway, Wolfe and yes, Stephen King mastered the art of opening that creative vein and letting it flow slowly, carefully and with a sharp and masterful point.

I'm still inside the box

Saw Barry Leach last night up at Hal and Mals. He and his band were terribly good. All the while that I am sitting in the restaurant section of H&M's, the "Chick Ball" is going on next door in the Red Room and the Big Room. I had thought about making an appearance over there, but changed my mind once I realized there was going to be spoken word poetry, intermixed with the music. Now, don't get the wrong idea, I do love poetry. Billy Collins, Robert Frost, to name a few, however I just don't feel like drinking a Bud Light and being one of only a handful of men at an event called the "Chick Ball" while I'm listening to an angry lesbian. Sorry if I'm just that much of a dick.

G and the Hippy hung out with me and we sampled some of the new concoctions that H&M's had come up with. I advise everyone to get a taste of their vodka infused stuff and try out the new Lazy Magnolia Indian blend or whatever its called. Nice and spicy.
I'm trying to decide what to do with the rest of today. I still have yet to register for a few things I need to and I have to finish an application or two. With any luck I'll have a job pretty soon and then its all bitches and 22s. Hells yea.

I'm still mulling over the idea of a southern blogazine, a word which I think I have coined. I think it would be a great idea to organize something similar to the Chicagoist and the rest of Gothamist's websites, somehow integrating southern cities with the same flavor. I have researched Movable Type, which is the type of blogging software which powers these websites, or at least some that are similar.

If anyone who reads this blog would be interested in contributing to an idea revolving around a blogazine site for the Jacktown area or anywhere in Mississippi, drop me a message.

A point of interest: I suggest everyone to check out this fellow blogger who does a fantastic job. Months ago, this blog was suggested to me and I think its great. Enjoy.
http://www.frascogna.com/lou/

Redneckin'

I have discovered the greatest country music singer/songwriter of all time. Ok, wait. Strike that. I have discovered two of the greatest country/western singer /songwriters of all time. Hells bells, these boys is where its at! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, may I present Billy Joe Shaver and Unknown Hinson. For whatever reason tonight, seeing as I'm bored as shit and can't drag myself to write anything meaningful on here or to my stories I'm working on, I felt it was my God given duty to investigate kick ass singers who participate in my favorite cartoon, "Squidbillies." Unknown Hinson is a country singer who voices the main character in "Squidbillies" and Billy Joe Shaver performs the theme song to the show. Both equally great in their lyrics and styles, I suggest every one of you sons of bitches get your asses on Myspace and look them the hell up. Jesus, I'm feeling pretty redneck tonight.
Since I'm feeling pretty redneck tonight, I'm going to red-state it up for you bitches out there, so here are a few of my gripes, hates, and favorite things, speaking from my redneck perspective this eveningtime.

Gripes:
Frank Melton: What the fuck is his problem? Get with the program and do you damn job.
Censorship: Censor this, motherfucker.
The Clarion Ledger: Wake the hell up and smell the corruption.
The Jackson Free Press: Quit patting yourself on the back, your not that important.
Jam Bands: Get a damn job or play better music.
Jackasses: Yea, I can't stand you bastards.
Liberals: Not everything is Bush's fault. Just most things.
Conservatives: Not everything can be solved by Hank Williams Jr. Just most things.
NRA: Your membership dues are too fucking expensive.
ACLU: Your not the sole protector of the Constitution. I am.

Hates:
Drugs: Crack and Crystal and all that other shit.
50 year old women pretending to be 24: Eventually even Botox can't fix everything.
No new episodes of "Squidbillies:" Hey Williams Street, get off your asses and crank out some more.
People that talk during that survivalist movie I was watching today at the Crossroads Film Festival: SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Snails: Move faster, bitches.
Giant trucks: Your too loud, tone that engine down a notch.

Favorite things:
Billy Joe Shaver and Unknown Hinson: Boys, you need to stop playing just Texas and Georgia, respectively and haul your asses to the Great State.
My car: Badfuckingass.
My new golf club I won: Yea, thats right. I won it.
Myspace: Hi, I'm the Expatriate, and I am an addict.
Fenians and Hal and Mals: Obviously.
School: Psyche.

Ok, I'm tired. I'll post tomorrow, hopefully, something bette

Politically Incorrect: Femotalk

The other night I was hanging out at one of the local watering-holes. As I sat there, enjoying the King of Beers, something interesting dawned on me. Isn't it funny how whenever I'm at the bar something interesting dawns on me? Anywho, as I sat there sipping my drink I started to think about how the arts in Mississippi have been taken over by women. Being a social libertarian/anarcho-music critic/feminist/politico, I am very much a fan of equality and suffrage and all those other politically correct standards everyone needs to be behind, however, when exactly did men cease having a say in art? I guess that is sort of a broad statement, but as I sat at the bar, pondering this, in the midst of an "art like gala," I noticed that the people hosting were women, the people running the game were women, and basically the majority of people attending this thing were women. Now, I don't look gift horses in the mouth and I was happy to find myself knee deep in pu...women...but I just started thinking that where do men contribute to Mississippi art, in all its forms today? Sure, there are tons of male writers from Mississippi and lots of painters who are men from Mississippi and just about every bar has an all male group playing cover songs, but when you truly think about it, prominent men in Mississippi are drifting more and more to other fields, outside the arts. Additionally, women are firmly taking over the arts, especially in literature. Southern literature. Jill Connor Browne and her fellow women have spawned a new form of female literature from the south that I shall name right here, and now: I dub female literature from the south that has to do with divorce/self deprecating humor/women's issues/female empowerment----------Femotalk. Yes, Femotalk and its other artistic outreaches now have co-opted all art in the South. Maybe its always been this way and I'm just noticing, but I could sure do with another Bill Faulkner these days.

O'Lucky/McFadden: St. Paddy's Day Massacre

So the decadence of St. Paddy's is looming on all of Jackson. In a few days, downtown will be turned into one of the largest spectacles of in all of the Southeast. For those who don't know, Jackson has the fourth or fifth largest St. Paddy's day parade in the country. Here, unlike other places, St. Paddy's is a little different due to the Sweet Potato Queens. Many moons ago, one of my favorite bars, Hal and Mals, decided to celebrate St. Paddy's day by hosting a parade. Flash forward a bit, and this lady, Jill Connor Browne, created a sensation of a book entitled "The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love" and subsequent books after. Now I haven't read the books, but they are a celebration of campy female pride in dressing badly and about how fun trashiness can be. Ok, I really don't know what they are about, but I'm sure it has something to do with bad clothes and southern women. Anyway, these books were a hit, and now people come from all over to hang out with the Sweet Potato Queens, march in the parade in costumes and really get tanked before 3 pm. I'm planning to go the parade for the first time and I'm hoping to see the sheer spectacle it all is.

In the past few years, a good friend and I have had a debate regarding St. Paddy's day. The traditional mascot is the Irish Leprechaun. Now, everyone loves leprechauns, but our debate has been, which leprechaun? There are two camps to this argument. On one side, you have the Disney friendly, Happy O'Lucky. Happy is the congenial, Irish wisdom leprechaun that is touted to young children. He is the leprechaun off the cereal commercials, in children's films and appears on lunchboxes. As my friend says, "Happy is the Gallic, jovial, lucky charms rendition." Now, on the other hand, there is another version. This is the more adult version. My friend calls him, "The surly, bar fighting, acerbic leprechaun." His name? Shanks McFadden. Shanks is the football mascot, the leprechaun from the movie "Leprechaun." You don't really know if Shanks has a pot of gold, but he does a broken beer bottle he is about to stab you with. This debate has raged for a while, with no satisfactory conclusion.

We invite everyone to weigh in.

Support Free Music

Saw the Arnold Lindsey Band last night. They are a pretty good blues band. I wished they would have played some more of their own stuff. They had one really great song called "My Name is The Blues." Very good lyrics, well put together. I've become a connoisseur of free music here in Jackson. My venue of choice lately has been Hal and Mals. They haven't had too many decent acts worth paying for, but their free music in the restaurant is plenty for me.

This comes to the point of this post. Regional music. The south has always traditionally had great music, but lately today, with corporate marketing and slick ad campaigns, regional music seems to have returned to its roots. I say this because with youth culture there is a backlash effect. The south, at least Mississippi, generally has stayed pretty removed from mass media and its push for the "it" bands. Because of the lack of large venues, Mississippi doesn't traditionally get big concerts or big names. Albeit, every now and then a big group passes through, but lately the biggest groups have been Jackyl and Motley Crue. Although, maybe Jackyl hasn't played yet. Its not as if I really pay attention. Willie Nelson isn't coming to Jackson, so what the fuck do I care who plays there? I don't. For me, I know with the spread of technology and the rise of popular music over the past so many decades, anyone can see a ton of great bands and great music without having to pay anything. Fenians has plenty of free music and so does Hal and Mals. So I go there and skip out on the 18+ show next door with its 10 dollar cover to hear a pretty weak emo band spit out some meaningless fluff.
Not to say that the only marketed and sold music in Jackson is emo, or goth, or some other garbage I don't care about. The 930 Blues Club price gouges on a daily basis and it is constantly packed. Good blues in Jackson is sold at a very high price, unless you know where to look. Sure, here in Jackson there a good many jukejoint blues clubs. However, I doubt I would head down Farrish Street to check them out. I don't like prostitutes and I don't like dope dealers. Yea, I said it. Farrish Street is packed with whore and crack; ergo, I'm not going to Birdland. A good idea for more blues in Jackson would be to get rid of Fire and Ice and put in a nice, well designed and cheaper blues club. A club to compete head to head with 930. It won't happen though, the 930 is the kingpin of blues here.

Back to my original point. Free music where its at. Vernon Brothers this week at Hal and Mals. Last hurrah before the debauchery that is St. Paddy's Day. Wednesday will be the last calm day at Hal and Mals. Free music will be over for about 5 or 6 days. Dammit.