Nostalgia

Who likes reminiscing about the old days? I do too. I was recently cleaning out a closet and found my old CD collection. I soon found myself listening to "Dolphin's Cry" by Live in my living room. Though the doors were locked and the windows close, I'm sure all my neighbors heard my jam session. I probably listened to this song six times. This song was released when I was in middle school and when I heard it Live quickly became one of my favorite bands. "Lakini's Juice", "Selling the Drama", "I Alone", "Lightning Crashes" all world-rocking songs to 14 year old Jubal Foster. Later in the same day I found this video on the YouTube. I probably have watched this video 10 times in the past month and have only listened to Creed on my iPhone since. (This is a lie, I downloaded "As Tears Go By" last week. Wow, beautiful song.) What a great WWF highlight video. The early 2000s was the best era for the WWF. Such talent, great stories. If professional wrestling isn't enough of a guilty pleasure, my wife and I binge watched Dawson's Creek this summer. I love that show, always have. This wasn't my first foray into Capeside, I originally watched this show every weekday morning on TBS the summer before my senior year. I still got infuriated with Dawson for not making a move on Joey. I watched to punch Pacey with the same vigor as I did a decade ago when he made moves on Joey.

Anything that harkens back to the mid 90s to mid 00s, I eat it up. Friends, Seinfeld, ER? Definitely. I still watch the horrible NBC Thursday night lineup out of a misappropriated fealty. This song? Downloaded. Memorized. Most watched show on my Amazon VOD account? Daria. I have it bad. While I think the "Only 90s kids will remember" posts on Facebook are vapid, I identify with all of them.

Why do we look away to old times? And we definitely do look back to old times. Films like Dazed and Confused will always capture our attention and we will always identify with them. I've never been drunk, taken any illegal drugs, had sex contact outside marriage, or even played football but darn it, I see myself in Jeremy London in that film and you do too. Conventional wisdom will tell you that the old days were better times. When these claims are examined, this simply isn't true. Crime keeps falling, teen pregnancy is dropping, drugs use is falling, our air and water are the cleanest that they have ever been measured. For me, I believe that the old days are better in my mind because, in my mind they are. Let me explain. When I was 14, raw dog, hot dog, and chili dog were various ways of eating mechanically separated pork parts squeezed into a synthetic case not sex acts. I knew nothing of the Rape of Nanking, the Wounded Knee Massacre, the Darfur Crisis. I had never dumped a girlfriend nor been dumped by a girlfriend. In short, I wasn't jaded. Life wasn't hard, everything was good. I was becoming a man and passions were being awakened without the adulthood threats of employment, financial responsibility, or personal status. Appropriately (for this post) Creed's "Never Die" tackles this issue. We abandon our youth because we forget how to be a child. I cannot go back an unlearn what female genital mutilation is. I can't unsee Baghdadi children born with horrifying birth defects. I can't unhear Steve Winget mentioning beastiality in chapel my sophomore year of high school and frankly, I don't want to forget it, that was one of the truly funny moments of my life. Thanks for hitting the tough issues that 2002's teens are facing Mr. Winget.

The only moral you should ever take away from my porch time banter is to buy my white lightning by the jugful but if I could make one suggestion, guard your eyes and thoughts. The older I get, the more I can oblige someone when they say "You don't want to know." We'll never be kids again, but we should try.

I'm the Exception to the Rule

Hello friends. I was recently browsing the internet and I found this meme and totally agreed with the content. Those of you who know me know that I brew the finest mountain dew in Mayberry. I also enjoy the cold, Knoxville born refreshment known as Mountain Dew. I drink it like it is going out of style. When I venture into society and see people drinking Mountain Dew, all I see are troglodytes, hillbillies, and other forms of mouth breathers. No one I know that is a regular drinker of Mountain Dew has a life worthy of emulation. I'd venture to say that no regular Mountain Dew drinkers I know have a life worthy of examination. Except me.

I like pro wrestling. Love it; the athleticism, the pageantry, the drama, the competition, the story telling. I love riding the emotional roller coaster with my favorite wrestlers. You know what I hate? The other fans. I'm not like them. I am an adult with a respectable job, good family, home not a booger-eating moron who buys wrestling toys. Okay, I have two... and a shirt my brother bought me... and I pay $10 a month for the WWE Network. Don't lump me in with those people, because obviously I'm not one of them.

I went to Olive Garden tonight. If you've never noticed, Olive Garden shares the same clientele with Walmart. Sure, there are affluent soccer moms and businessmen in suits but Oliver Garden is mostly sweathogs. I'll tell you about three tables I saw tonight. The first was a mother and daughter. Mom complained about her bill but paid. As they were leaving, mom grabbed the daughter's togo fruit punch, pour her glass of white wine in, and started drinking it as they left. Nothing else needs to be said about that. The second table I notice was two very overweight people. They alternated between English and some other language I couldn't make out, which I should have because they were speaking so loudly. The man had an alcoholic drink with whip cream in the top of conical glass. The woman has a watermelon martini. Classy. The man put in his iPhone headphones halfway through his meal and continued to talk to his wife. He then got a call and listened through the headphones but kept holding his mouth to the phone, to the microphone on the headphone cord. The last table consisted of a handsome couple. The man took his breadstick and wiped up the salad dressing. After eating the breadstick he discreetly licked his fingers to get the garlic salt. He picked the tomato, olive, and pepperoncini out of the salad by hand straight from the bowl. His entree was chicken parmigiana, also known as Italian fried chicken. Typical sweathog.

I am that last man at Olive Garden. You are too, maybe not at Olive Garden, maybe you're not a wrestling fan, maybe you don't drink Mountain Dew, but you are a regular cuss just like the rest of us. We all think we're the exception to the rule. We're all of above average intelligence, looks, driving ability, penis size, personality... A recent study found that 93% of teenage drivers feel that their driving is "above average". You can call it the Lake Wobegon effect, illusory superiority, whatever you will. Day-to-day, I view myself pretty highly but it isn't until I sit back and think that I tear myself down to sweathog levels. What I need to do is stop viewing a lack of sophistication is a negative thing. I know how to listen to classical musical, it just isn't my cup of tea. Does that make me a fat redneck? No. I can quote from Shakespeare and Dusty Rhodes. I have read Atlas Shrugged and the Fantastic Four. I DVR the American Experience and Bob's Burgers. I'm the exception to the rule.

Porchtime With Jubal

I like to think of myself as a civil servant that happens to also be a small business owner. I provide the denizens of the Mayberry-Mount Pilot Metroplex with liquid spirits so that they may pursue endeavors without the burdens of the middle class struggle. Do you think that Otis Campbell could go home to that battle ax of a wife without my help? Without me, Sheriff Taylor wouldn't have a reason to lock him up and he'd be stuck at home. You're welcome Mayberry-Mount Pilot Metroplex.With that being said, I think I might have chosen the wrong profession.

I went to the county courthouse with aspirations of positively adding to a custody hearing. I was a character witness for a father that was representing himself. This man did not know how to lawyer ("lawyer" can be used as a verb, look it up). He was attempting to testify while cross examining his wife he asked leading questions, hypothetical questions, made statements, and argued with his ex-wife. The opposing lawyer continually objected to these questions and statements and the judge consistently sustained them. After an hour, roughly 15 sustained objections, and three "last warnings", the judge declared the cross examination over, adjourned for the day, and stomped out. The judge gave no reasoning why every objection was sustained though he did display his disdain. His disdain grew with each objection until he finally stomped out. It was a tantrum fit for a five year old or an entitled old man.

My issue was not with the arrogant lawyer defending a mother who left her large family to defile her marriage bed with a man she met on Facebook and is now trying to cram 10 people in a three-bedroom doublewide, though that does draw my ire. My issue is that this father's representation of himself proved not to be a stumbling block but instead a tombstone. If the case were judged by us peasants, the father would win by TKO. Instead, the patrician class makes us play their game, without telling us the rules, and later decides not between right and wrong but instead who played the game at a superior level. This is wrong; this is America. Article One, Section Nine, Clause Eight of the US Constitution states: nobody is better than anyone else in America and people who act as such should be castrated. This applies to judges who recognize an emotional father fighting for his kids and won't take five seconds to explain you can't testify during a cross examination and you can't create hypothetical situations and demand answers. If the judge had done so, the case could have proceeded whereas it now stands that the obvious winner might lose due to not having his juris doctorate. This is wrong; this is America.

Today made me think long and hard about my chosen profession. I know I could make a good lawyer without continually playing lawyerball. I hope I have chosen the correct route of service for my life. Drink up Mayberry-Mount Pilot Metroplex.

Things Rooster Hates on April 9th, 2013 A.D.

I hate:

-People who are not self aware.  Please, just use your brain a little before you open your mouth.

-Making the same mistake twice (or eleven, twelve or thirteen times.)

-Losing.

-That football season is still 4 months away.

-When most women open their mouth.

-The B1G

-not being in control.

-not always being thankful for everything I have.

-stupid abbreviations for words i.e. "vaykay", "presh", and "The Noog"

-when the Braves don't have the best record in baseball.  Oh wait...



So let it be written, so let it be done.

Guns and Butter

Actually, no butter. If you're wondering why I mentioned butter, read this.

Guns. Guns conjure up many different notions to many different people. Let's look at some statements on guns:


"All political power comes from the barrel of a gun. The communist party must command all the guns, that way, no guns can ever be used to command the party."
― Mao Tse Tung
”Firearms are second only to the Constitution in importance; they are the peoples’ liberty’s teeth.”
― George Washington
“You don't spread democracy with a barrel of a gun.” 
― Helen Thomas

"God made all men, but Samuel Colt made all men equal."― Colt Manufacturing Company marketing slogan

"If I could have banned them all - 'Mr. and Mrs. America turn in your guns' - I would have!"― Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-CA

"I don't care if you want to hunt, I don't care if you think it's your right. I say 'Sorry.' it's 1999. We have had enough as a nation. You are not allowed to own a gun, and if you do own a gun I think you should go to prison."
― Rosie O'Donnell

"The guns and bombs, the rockets and the warships, all are symbols of human failure"― Lyndon Johnson

"Banning guns is an idea whose time has come." 

― Joseph Biden

”By calling attention to ‘a well regulated militia,’ ‘the security of the nation,’ and the right of each citizen ‘to keep and bear arms,’ our founding fathers recognized the essentially civilian nature of our economy… The Second Amendment still remains an important declaration of our basic civilian-military relationships in which every citizen must be ready to participate in the defense of his country. For that reason I believe the Second Amendment will always be important.”

― John F. Kennedy


Newtown, CT. Aurora, CO. Columbine, CO. These cities have the specter of gun crimes and loss of innocent life. What happened in those cities is horrendous. What also happened there is an abberation and not the fault of guns. Guns don't kill people. Never have, never will. People kill people.


Where would we be without guns? The United States gained independence via the words of the Founding Fathers and the deeds of the Continental Army. The Second Amendment ensures that Americans will always be able to defend themselves from tyranny whether it be from home invaders, foreign invaders, or our own tyrannical government. The framers of the 2nd Amendment knew the people had to be well armed to repel tyranny. The 2nd Amendment does not state that citizens shouldn't be evenly match with the government. Those that owned muskets in 1791 were evenly matched with the government.


This is a rambling post but I don't care. I am afraid of the thought of United States citizens having equal firepower to the military. I am more afraid no citizens having equal firepower to the military.


Live free or die.

My South

My South is mommas and daddys
My South is SEC football
In my South, the King is still king
My South is fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sweet tea
In my South Andy Taylor is the sheriff and Ben Matlock is your lawyer
In my South men open doors for women and women are ladies
My South has long, hot summers
My South has a million different names for grandmothers and grandfathers
In my South respect to elders is taught through modeling and a belt

Tough Guise

I recently had a discussion with a friend about the new Lincoln movie. They told me it was good. I responded with "Oh, so it was science fiction." The topic then shifted to Lincoln's real life and my friend mentioned that she had heard a theory that Abraham Lincoln was gay. The majority of these theories center around the fact that Honest Abe was known to share a bed with other men. What a stupid premise on which to base a theory. Same-sex bed sharing was quite common in the 19th century due to the lack of affordable lodging. John Wayne is the only cowboy who wasn't sharing a room with only man in the local saloon/inn. Working men who hadn't settled a homestead stayed in hotel rooms with eight to 10 other fellows. The lucky ones slept in the bed. Another facet of the homosexual Lincoln theory is that he write letters back and forth with dear male friends. People have also attempted to make Jesus gay and John his lover. Ugh.

Why does our over-sexed society wish to label people who have great same-sex friendships as gay? Why do guys have to preface comments with "no homo"? Why do men have to put up walls and act tough? I don't have a lot to say about this subject other than it gets on my nerves. Jesus wasn't gay, neither was Abraham Lincoln. Both just knew what it was like to have a great man that cares for you.