"Que Sera Sera"

We spent the morning dancing to Arielle Dombasle's C'Est Si Bon on the iPod and then we went outside to take some pictures. One thing about Ari, she'll smile all day until you ask her to. I tend to prefer shots like these anyway, so it's all good. Whatever will be, will be.

"White Lines"

Can someone with the time and talent for such things analyze for me why I think this is the best thing television has given us in recent memory? I'm just grateful I got to see it. Wild!

When it's this beautiful, I forget to be afraid of snakes.

Watch Your Finger

Pic 226

Skirt Watches Dress

I'm seeing these letters too much lately. Mostly in caps though.

Companionship on the Fourth

Fun on the Fourth

Steve McNair, from the archives

Here's from something I wrote about Steve McNair a few years ago:

Ever since watching him put up 336 yards in the 1999 season opener (while being booed by fans, incredulously), I have been a fan of number 9. Before that day, I had marked myself as a fan only of a team and not a player. I knew that players came and went too often for me to put my loyalty behind someone who likely wouldn't be on the team for any coming season. And so I was determined to not buy player jerseys, only team specific merchandise. For two seasons, I was true to my words. I watched the Oilers play in Memphis in 1997 and I watched them play in Nashville at Vanderbilt in 1998, and I hardly bothered to learn the names of the players. I rooted for my home team and that was that.

Then, 1999 came. My wife and I took our seats in what was called Adelphia Coliseum at the time. I was in my Titans cap and ready for another fun NFL game. I was ready to watch my team. But on the field that day, Steve McNair was on fire. He threw for over 300 yards and I think three touchdowns. I think his scrambling might have confused many fans, who started booing him as he was playing to catch up with the winning Bengals. All he was doing was putting up yards and points; our struggling defense was the only reason that Cincinnati was winning. And as we found ourselves down by two with about a minute to go in the game, Steve McNair moved the offense up the field, proving wrong his doubters, and got his team in position for a beautiful last second Al Del Greco field goal. With the first game in the books, the Tennessee Titans were 1-0 and on their way to a terrific season, one where we would play in the Super Bowl on the merits of a 13-3 record.

Before the second game of the season, yours truly was wearing a Steve McNair jersey, a fan of a player, going against my game plan. I knew that one day, he'd probably be on another team. It happens all of the time. But there was something about him that was the team.

Feels Like My Theme Song Some Days

Listening to this, I miss my old copy of Arc.

Lifts My Mood

Thinking About Bloggers I Admire

I held back tonight from posting something more long-winded and of the vulnerable variety. I spent a long time typing out its words, but I'll let it live in drafts for a bit and maybe share it later.

Instead, I'll just take this late night moment to say that I'm listening to Bob Dylan's Blood On The Tracks and The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. "Girl From The North Country" sounds so peaceful and breezy, doesn't it? I'm thinking of Melissa whose blog is named after that song and hoping that she is well. What she shares in pictures and in words never fails to make me happy and/or ponderous.

Also, reminded of another sweet and dreamy blogger, I read a small piece on Asheville's David Wilcox in the Scene tonight. I learned from the short bit that he "recorded his last album in an airstream trailer, while living a carefree, nomadic life with his wife and son." I hope that Holly gets her wish and finds herself someday "owning a coffee shop and an Airstream somewhere in the Appalachians."

Peace to all of my friends. Who's doing what on the fourth? We're considering a trip to East Nashville for the 2009 Music City Hot Chicken Festival in the afternoon and then who knows what for fireworks later. We're available for Tweet-ups or meet-ups or whatever Internet folks like us call being social these days.

Sammie in the Summer

By The Pool