Welcome to an abbreviated session of revelatory SEC Football predictions! Like Willie we are on the road again. No won/lost record update. And blah blah blah. Let’s get to it!

LSU (-5.5) at Missouri

The Tyguz scored 49 points last week against Ole Miss. Problem is, the Reb-Bears tallied fiddy five. Yep! The ol’ double nickel. Felines aplenty in CO-Mo. Which will snarl most loudly? The eight ball says! LSU 35, Missouri 31.

Western Michigan at Miss State (-20.5)

Broncos and Cowbells. Sounds like a Wyoming love song. Or Bulldogs and Broncos. Same difference. The Bullies are in a dead heat with Vandy for dead last in the SEC. Don’t think I care to follow this one closely. I’ll hide, You watch. State 34,Western 16.

Alabama (-1) at Texas A&M

So (a needle pulling thread) The Tide is minus one AND has a 66% chance of winning. The Tide spanked Arky in its last outing while the Pachyderms crushed mighty State. Jesus told Nicodemus that he must be born again. Jimbo told Nickydemus he’ll need to be saved if things go south for him in College Station. But The Fisher man has a parachute worth many multi millions. It’s all good. Alabama 28, Texas A&M 23.

Ok. That’s all the time I have to pick before the games get underway. We are on the road from Fort Worth to Alienville, NM. Nanu nanu. And it’s 10:06 CT, Saturday AM

Here are your winners of the remaining three SEC games for today.

Vanderbilt at Florida (-18)
Gators. Do they cover? I don’t care.

Kentucky at Georgia (-14)

Dawgs win but do not cover.

Arkansas at Ole Miss (-13)

Lane Train (or Trane if you’re into the whole HVAC thang) wins and covers.

Gotta wrap this Week Six up. Not easy trying to type in a moving vehicle, especially if you’re driving. No no no. Miss LeCroy is behind the wheel. And I words cannot express how great an evening we had, last night, at Fort Worth’s oldest and best honky tonk, the Longhorn Saloon. IMHO the world’s best honky tonk.

Take care. Enjoy the games. And love your neighbor. Peace out. Take us home Waylon…

“Well, the Honky Tonks in Texas
Were my natural second home
The way you tip your hat to the ladies
In the rose of San Antone.

I grew up on music
That we call western swing
It don’t matter whose in Austin
Bob Wills is still the king…”

Tonight reminds me of so many Saturday nights in the early through mid 90’s when we lived in a little log/modular farmhouse on Cecil Keesling’s place about 25 minutes northeast of Nashville in Summer County, TN.

We’d do one of two things. Grill out or go to Gabe’s, “Nashville’s most charming Honky Tonk.” Gabe’s was where session players and country music’s backup band players jammed on Friday and Saturday nights. And they were cooking. And it was a dive. A most wonderful dive.

But Gabe’s deserves a formal blog unto itself.

Tonight’s a grill out night. In TN I’d usually put the Columbia Classic Country CD which kicked off with Johnny Cash’s “I Still Miss Someone.” Later, after our burger or steak or chicken we would listen to a Country Gold program on the radio.

And it was beautiful out there on Cecil’s place. He and his wife lived there the first 10 years of marriage and later bought a large proper house in a nice little subdivision very near where Beech Elementary, Middle and High Schools were. Cecil always liked the farmhouse better, he told me. Worsham’s convenience/grocery store was across the road that ran beside the school’s grounds on the east side.

No telling who you might run into there. A lot of country music stars lived in Sumner County. I literally about bumped into Johnny Cash there one afternoon. He stepped back and opened the door for me. Well, I’m saying to myself, What do I call him? Finally I mustered up a “Thank you, Mr. John.”

Yep, it’s one of those nights. Not unlike one during the Tennessee years. I am so very fortunate. Now me and Miss LeCroy are gonna clean up from dinner and turn it up. I hope that those of you who read these ramblings of an old guy have a great evening. I know we will.

Take us out Kris, “Lord help me Jesus I’ve wasted it so, help me Jesus, I know what I am. Now that I know that I’ve needed you so, help me Jesus, my soul’s in your hands, Jesus, my soul’s in your hands.”

It’s been awhile since we went Ramblin’ here at Bird’s Banter. Seven years, in fact. Ramblin’ is just off the cuff or stream of consciousness musings. And so! With a nod to Led Zeppelin. Ramble On!

I can smell college football comin’ round the corner! For better or worse, the game has changed dramatically. Like it or not, that’s the given now. Let us now give Pink Floyd the floor.

“New car, caviar, four star, daydream
Think I’ll buy me a football team. Money
Get back
I’m alright, Jack, keep your hands off of my stack
Money
It’s a hit
Don’t give me that do goody good bullshit…”

Speaking of sports (Remember the old radio program, ‘This is Howard Cosell speaking of sports’)? Our Atlanta Braves have the best record in the National League and the second best record in baseball. They lead the Miami Marlins by six games,

The games people play. Pretty good song and written by Joe South. Covered by Freddie Weller. I liked both versions. As a matter-of-fact, Dan Baird and Homemade Sin do a mean take on it. Danny was the front man for the Georgia Satellites a few decades back. Love his live shows.

I haven’t written much of anything about our recent trip to Ireland. Will do soon I hope. No bright ideas on that. But I will speak to the subject of Irish whiskey briefly. I sampled a goodly many of them due to the graciousness of a couple of great bartenders. Powers, Redbreast 12 year (A bit pricey), Bushmill Black Bush, and Writer’s Tears would be my go to Emerald Isle spirits as we speak. Jameson is ok but you need to go to the 12 or 18 year olds for a fine one in that line of whiskeys. Kilkenny, brewed by the fine folks at Guinness, was my favorite beer. Hard to find in the States.

Doing something, right now, I haven’t done in a couple of years. Watching Finebaum. I am getting football fever and I need some input. The magazines are out and they all have Auburn sixth or seventh in the West. That will not happen. I’ll get my preseason picks out after SEC Media Days when I have a much idea of what’s what in the SEC.

What am I reading now? Roddy Doyle’s ‘A Star Called Henry’. A slow go. Been picking at it for weeks. Heavy stuff. Ireland in the early 20th century. I’m two books into Michael McGarrity’s Kevin Kerney series. He’s a New Mexico guy. Page turning crime mystery novels. Most enjoyable.

Music? I listen to more jazz than anything else these days. By far. Real Jazz on SiriusXM is great. Apple Music is my other primary source of tuneage. John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Charlie “Bird” Parker, and Thelonius Monk are my favorites. Yet I do listen to a wide array of jazz musicians. I also continue to listen to my traditional country, classic rock, and pop oldies.

Me and Paul have watched some good streaming TV series recently. Perry Mason, Succession, and Barry on HBO Max. Waco: The Aftermath on Prime Video. George and Tammy was not good IMHO. We finished Redemption, Britbox, last night. Loved it! INTENSE. And it’s based in Dublin, where we spent four nights. That was neat. Apple TV has Ted Lasso The Crowded Room, and Platonic. Yes!

And so, boys and girls… M. O. U.S. E. 🎶 Bye bye!

Leo

It was late one Saturday afternoon in Camden AL. The dog days of August, 1974. I was between quarters at Troy State University. I had no plans except to drink some beer and, possibly, wager on a few major league baseball games. A few of my close friends, who shall remain nameless, and I had done quite a bit of gambling already that summer. And we hadn’t fared too poorly at it.

Back to the story…1974

My best friend, Hal Huggins, then burst in through the door, he was prone to do that, without knocking, almost “Krameresque” in a way. “Let’s go to Pensacola!” he commanded, equally abrupt. “Let’s take the Galaxy.” He was referring to my parents’ 70 something Ford product. We almost always did our cruising in his 1972 Impala, which also had an eight track tape player in it. The Galaxy had nothing but an AM radio, but that was all we needed to listen to baseball games and some music, which was often provided by “WLS music radio” out of Chicago, Illinois.

I checked with my folks on this and they seemed to have no reservations about our impromptu trip. I gathered what little I needed to take on the excursion with me, unhooked the car keys off the rack hanging on our den wall by the door, and off we went. “I’ll drive,” Hal informed me. So we headed to the Jr. Food store for some Schlitz and a bag of ice and we were southbound and down!

Beatrice (the Galaxy ran hot near there, but I can’t recall much of a delay or any trouble in particular), Monroeville, Frisco City, Uriah, Flomaton, and on into what remains my favorite place to “chill” right up to this very day, Pensacola.

Hal and I, along with Howell Lee (RIP) had thrown full bore into a huge time, three years prior, at Rosie O’Grady’s, and, thus, we chose Seville Quarter, where Rosie’s was located, as were several other spots, for those so inclined to imbibe in adult beverages and entertainment.

We parked the Ford, strode into the garden-like setting of the quarter, and made ourselves comfortable at the first establishment on the left. Hal ordered a Schlitz, unsurprisingly, and I, surprisingly, chose a Harvey Wallbanger. Bang your walls it will if consumed in mass quantities, which I discovered nine months earlier near here at another watering hole which was situated in a decorative hotel on Pensacola Beach. That would be our next destination.

An aside, that previous November, of Wallbanging fame, I was in the company of two young lasses and another gentleman at that lounge on the beach on a Thanksgiving night, oddly enough. We were watching the University of Alabama do battle with the LSU from Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge. Huge game. Bama was undefeated and highly ranked and the Bayou Bengals were a quite formidable opponent that season. The Tide prevailed, 21-7, and went on to remain unbeaten until it was vanquished by the Notre Dame Fighting Irish in the Sugar Bowl. That is another story which involved Hal, more wagering, and many other friends. Later.

The lasses, the other gentleman, and I stayed on after the game ended, to have a few more postgame rounds, until I somehow set my long flowing locks ablaze on of the candles that sat upon our four top table.

But I regress! Back to August 1974 and Seville Quarter! No excessive Wallbanging on this trip! And absolutely NO LOCKS AFLAME!

I was sipping on my Harvey, and Hal on his “Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous,” when the solo acoustic guitar player there at the Quarter, went into a song that completely caught my attention. What a pithy, touching, funny song.

The lyrics. The story. The humor. The grace. The humanity.

“Blow up your tv, throw away the paper, move to the country, build you a home. Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try to find Jesus on your own…”

The song was Spanish Pipedream. It was written and recorded by someone I was vaguely familiar with and it was the first time I had ever heard a song by this guy. His name was John Prine.

In a couple of more weeks I was back at Troy and asked a friend of mine, Mike “Jelly Rock” Jellison did he have any John Prine records. He did. It was entitled Sweet Revenge. He played me a song off of it entitled The Accident, but Spanish Pipedream was not on there. In fact, I did not know that the name of the song was Spanish Pipedream. All I knew was, “Blow up the tv, throw away the paper”, etc. The words, Spanish Pipedream are not in the song. No way to know that. Them I dropped it, for quite some time.

A few years later, the early eighties I do believe, I was purchasing cassettes instead of LP’s and would run across the John Prine section in some music store and purchase Sweet Revenge. This is fantastic, I thought! I gotta have more! So, logically, in my mind, I picked up his first album (cassette, I just have to call them albums sometimes). It was self-titled. And boys and girls, if there is one non-greatest hits record you ever want to purchase, it’s that one. The song titles are like a greatest hits compilation. Illegal Smile, Hello In There, Sam Stone, Paradise, Pretty Good, Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore, Far From me, Angel From Montgomery, Quiet Man, Donald And Lydia, Six O’Clock News, Flashback Blues and, yes… AND… Spanish Pipedream!!! You can imagine my total exhilaration when that one leapt from the speakers to my ears!

“Blow up the tv, throw away the paper, move to the country, build you a home. Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try to find Jesus on your own.”

Since that day my collection of John Prine music has, of course, blossomed. His music has been a constant of mine for decades now.

Fast forward 32 moths to today, May 3, 2023. I began the previous wording of this blog back in September of 2020. Covid. John Prine departed our world in April of 2020 due to Covid. I did not like that initial attempt at articulating my romance with his music. I am now grasping at some inadequate words to conclude this musing.

My oldest and dearest friend, Hal Huggins, has left us to join John Prine and the heavenly hosts. I miss them both till it aches. They were both such great friends. May they rest in peace. See you later guys. I just hope it’s not in the near future.

“We blew up our TV
Threw away our paper
Went to the country
Built us a home
Had a lot of children
Fed ’em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own”

For the first time since the mid 80’s we cannot watch the Braves on tv. We were in Albany, NY then and our cable company didn’t carry TBS. We could go to Troy, NY to a bar but it didn’t matter that much. We had become Mets fans and were happy with that and only saw the Braves when they played the Mets. Did drive to Montreal to see the Braves play the Expos one time. 1984. We got there early and hung around during batting practice. Willie Stargell saw Luke and I near the Braves dugout and brought Luke a ball and signed for him as did Dale Murphy and a few others. Bob Horner had no interest. Fast became not a Bob Horner fan. Willie Stargell was just the best.

From 1994 through May of 2009 I didn’t watch ANY baseball. The ‘94 strike broke my heart and put me off baseball for those 15 years. I did attend a Braves game, an Expos game, and a Rockies game ilduring that 15 year period as we had AAA annual conferences in those cities when the home teams were in town. But I mostly enjoyed free beer and hot dogs and socialized. I’m good at socializing.

Anyway, back to Schenectady, NY in June of 2009. I was working the Hudson Valley region for AAA and Paul was with me. Summer. My University at Albany, SUNY “kids”, from when I was in campus ministry there ‘83-‘86, had us over at the, now Father Bob Longobucco’s home, rectory, for a dinner. And I watched the Mets game with the old gang. Father Bob said, at some point, “Come back to the game! It’s all about the game.” The spirit moved me, as she is wont to do, and I got it. Again. Baseball fever. And I’ve been watching the Braves and the playoffs and World Series since that fateful day in Schenectady.

So, here I sit, today, not watching the Braves. I now have YouTube TV and they don’t carry our Bravos (on BSSE). I got a trial subscription to MLB TV and it’s blacked out on there. Lotta good that does. I do get the audio. Also I did get the Mets and Marlins yesterday on MLB. Full circle.

When we started pulling for the Mets, Daryl Strawberry was a rookie and they went 68-94 that season. 1983. Doc Gooden was a 19 year old rookie in ‘84. You know the rest of that story. It was a glorious run. I do cringe every time I hear Kirk Gibson’s name. You might remember he hit that tater in ‘88, limping around the bases, that crushed the souls of Met’s fans everywhere.

But hey! Maybe that was karma for the stunning ‘86 World Series game 6 when Bill Buckner booted that grounder, in the bottom of the 10th, and our Mets went on to win it all over the Ted Sox. 108-54 regular season. How sweet it was!

I grew up a Yankees fan until the Braves moved to Atlanta in 1966. It was all about Mickey Mantle for me and several million other kids. Remained a Yankees fan, in the AL, until the late 70’s, when I got enough of George Steinbrenner.

But that is another story for another time.

Hey! I see I can get the Mets and Marlins on MLB. Ok, it’s 4-2 Metropolitans in the top of the 6th! Let’s Go Mets!

I’ll probably get weepy singing ‘Take Me Out To The Ballgame’ during the 7th inning stretch. That happens a lot with me.

Fathers and sons and baseball. It touches my soul.

“Popcorn! Peanuts! Cracker Jacks! Hot dogs! Cold beer right heah!”

“… And it’s ONE! TWO! THREE STRIKES, you’re out! At the old ball game.”

Gotta go now. I think I’ll listen to Susan Sarandon’s monologue that opens ‘Bull Durham’.

I ❤️ baseball!