The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Friday, April 08, 2005

Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD, The East Coast Family

I was driving to my health club last night and flipping through the radio stations. I came across Boys II Men's End Of The Road. I started laughing and singing. It's amazing how I still know the words to the song from more than a decade ago. Every single word.

I can still remember high school dances and them playing that song. Everyone was doing the Tootsie Roll (which by the way, if you don't know what that is or how to do it, then you might as well stop reading this) and then boom, Boyz II Men came on and everything slowed down. Getting close to some girl and slow dancing, maybe sneaking in a kiss or two.

I started wonder if the music that was popular when I was in high school will be looked on with nostalgia like past generation's music is judged. I mean Nirvana and Pearl Jam are at least in the ball park with past generation's music's greats from the 60's and 70's. But no one with any taste really believes Boyz II Men I'll Make Love To You and that really bad boy group who had a couple of the guys looked like Kenny G and a Mexican George Michaels I Want To Sex You Up are in the same same planetary system as Al Green's Still in Love With You or Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On.

My generation has no really good love songs from our formative years.

And no, Metallica's Nothing Else Matters (a Owensboro High School Prom favorite I might add) doesn't count

What will our legacy of pop music be?

I certainly don't want it to be Hootie and the Blowfish or En Vogue. That won't stand the test of time. I don't even know if we can look back on early 90's music with the same nostalgic campiness that we hold 80's music too. 80's pop music was so bad it and commercial that it kinda became ironically good. But Whoop There It Is, Baby Got Back, and I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt aren't ironically bad, they are just bad.

I wonder, though, if Clear Channel will try to market towards my generation that graduated high school in the early 90's and somehow survived the late 90's?

All 90's All the Time...Right now, coming at you, a 90 minute 90's block of Billy Ray Cyrus woth Achy Breaky Heart, EMF's Unbelieveable, Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire, Van Halen's Right Now, and Prince back when he was know as The Artist Formerly Known As Prince.

But looking for anything from commercial radio these days is a futile search.I guess to find music that is good, I will just have to do like I have always done (and most of my friends have done) and find it somewhere else. Even though I have been banging on the 90's there was some good music out there if you knew where to find it. Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and a very underrated Soundgarden all broke out very big in the early 90's. U2's Actung Baby and REM's Automatic For The People ,which I consider to be two of the finest albums ever produced, both came out in the early 90's. Whenever I hear PJ's Black on classic rock radio (which scares me that it is considered CLASSIC) I almost have to stop my car because the memories and faces from freshman year go flying by.

I guess to find good music, something with passion, soul and authenticity, one has always had to go out and search and dig for it. But I always thought that the cream was supposed to rise to the top. Not the crap like Aerosmith's Livin' on the Edge.

But time and nostalgia do strange things.

Drew Caperton--Church Planter, Graphic Designer, and Very Tall

Resides--Soon to be Lafayette, LA
Known since--August 2003

I remember the first time I met Drew, he totally blew me off. I was trying to volunteer to help out in the children's ministry at my church. He said, yeah, sure. I gave him my number and he told me that he would call me sometime. It was about two weeks later when he finally called.

We ended up talking over lunch and sweet tea at McAlister's. We found out that we both liked Saints football or as some people say, cursed. His phone rang during lunch, which I found out to be a regularity any time you spend time with Drew. But he had a good excuse, his wife was pregnant.

Which leads me to the fact that Drew is married to a tremendous woman who must have loads and loads patience to put up with the two little boys in her life, her son and her husband. Drew and Kristy are a great match, they have a lovely little boy and will soon have a lovely little girl joining their family.

But for some reason, Drew and I clicked.

Which is funny because a few days ago Drew asked me why I thought we had become friends. My best answer was "the hell if I know."

We started to hang out more often. Drew, who can be scatter brained, was always needing some help with children's ministry and I was always more than willing to help out. We would be messing around with the Greenhouse or something and just start telling stories and laughing. He is the only person I can make a throat slashing gesture to for a laugh. He is only person I can say "The Credentials" to and make laugh.

Now Drew isn't just good for a joke. He is one of my closest confidants. I can tell him anything. When I was having nightmares and worried about a sort of quarter life crisis, it was him that I talked to. And I think he trusted me enough to confide in me about thinking about moving back to Lafayette to plant a church.

Which I knew he would be able to do as soon as he told me. Drew is more talented than he realizes.

I also know he will be successful in Lafayette. Because Drew is the genuine article in an surface deep age of bullshit and glitz. He cares about people and in turn, people care about Drew. People enjoy getting a hug from a really tall man who really wants to know how your day is really going. People enjoy Drew asking them something totally random. People feel comforted when Drew is transparent with them about his struggles and fears.

About the best thing I can say about Drew is that he has a heart and he is not afraid to use it.

There are going to be a lot of people that miss Drew up here in Northwest Arkansas, and I count myself as the leader of that club. But we all know that Drew is doing the right thing and will do the right thing for years to come. That doesn't mean we won't miss him. Cause we will, and by we, I mean me.

Except for his ability to beat me at NCAA Football 2005. I won't miss that. But I am positive that if given the chance for a rematch I would beat him so bad that he would ball up in the fetal position and cry like the baby he is.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Wendell Berry--Writer, Ecologist, and Farmer

Resides--On his farm in Kentucky
Known since--Reading of "The Memory of Old Jack" in 2000

I have never met Wendell Berry. Not personally. But I have met many of his characters in his books. I know Jayber Crow, Nathan Coulter, and Burley Coulter too. He has made a fascinating town called Port William Township, Ky. out of thin air.

I have heard it said that this boxer or that boxer is pound for pound the best boxer in the world. Well, if you ask me, pound for pound, Wendell Berry is the best writer in America.

He writes these perfect little sentences. They are just perfect. So perfect that sometimes when I read his work, I want to stop writing. Because I know in my heart that I will never write a perfect sentence like Wendell Berry can.

He is also an activist. He writes essays that don't try to divide issues into who is right and who is wrong. He writes essays that make you want to believe in something. He writes essays that make you want to change the world. He writes essays that make you want to think and want to have passion.

I think he is brilliant, and I also think not enough people appreciate his work. More people out to go out and buy one of his books. Any of them, they are all great.

Coughing it up

I have slacked off on the good people project because I have been sick for the past week or so. I am feeling better now, not completely out of the woods yet though. Still coughing up a lot of stuff. I never knew one person could produce so much phlem.