More True Stories From Real Life

Guess what Ace Atkins got me for Christmas. Why, that's right! An owl costume to sleep in. How did you know? Anyway, it's definitely not weird, at least we can all agree on that. Last night I put on my owl costume and tried to talk about something important with Dr. Theresa. She said, "It's hard to take you seriously when your owl eyebrows are askew." I said, "Oh!" and tried to fix my owl eyebrows. Dr. Theresa said, "Can I tell you something?" I said, "What?" She said, "You're not a real owl." It hurt! In other news, I was slicing some cherry tomatoes yesterday when from out of nowhere the song "Cheeseburger In Paradise" got stuck in my head. Now, this is not a song I find enjoyable or "good." It must have lain dormant in my brain for decades, like the ultimate evil. And there it was. The tomatoes triggered it. It was like when the Cylons got activated! I kept singing, "I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57 and french fried potato." And today that song continued to be stuck in my head. And I am afraid I sang a snatch of it some moments ago and Dr. Theresa begged me to stop, announcing that she hates the word "taters." I thought I knew all the words Dr. Thersea hated. But this was a new one. In addition, I protested that the lyrics referred to "french fried potato," not "taters." Dr. Theresa apologized and said that she thought I had been singing "taters." I sat down and thought long and hard about things.

Mayonnaise Bildungsroman

You know who likes condiments? Dr. Theresa! So I got her about 25 condiments from around the world for her birthday. I gave them to her a month early or so, because I was tired of hiding condiments all around the house and also I was like, we should use these before they expire! Maybe under a bed is not the best spot for mayonnaise! Here, pictured, are just a few of the condiments. Maybe you don't think olives are condiments. Maybe I agree! But even if you subtract the olives, there were still about 25 condiments in the birthday package. Just yesterday we realized how many of the condiments we haven't even tried yet... lots! (And that's why I put some yuzu mayonnaise on a ham sandwich yesterday... not the best combo, though going in having no idea what a "yuzu" was - I just took a chance and squirted it on there - I was pleasantly surprised by the bright orange flavor. But not on a ham sandwich. But I ate it. Maybe it would be good in chicken salad...? Don't listen to me! I'm an idiot!) Of the condiments we have tried, I feel comfortable telling you the top four. I'm not sure I have the order right. Nor am I sure Dr. Theresa would agree. 4. Farmer's Daughter Salty Dog Marmalade. That is a fine marmalade! Let me tell you something about April McGreger, maker of the Farmer's Daughter Salty Dog Marmalade. I met her at a Southern Foodways Symposium several years ago, when they were handing out biscuits with her fig preserves on them. Ladies and gentlemen, not since my childhood had I tasted fig preserves SO EXACTLY LIKE my grandmother's fig preserves! I ordered jars for everyone in my family for Christmas, that's how good they were, and how close to home. I'm not sure Ms. McGreger has ever made exactly those fig preserves again. The last batch I saw for sale had bourbon in them, I think. My grandmother wouldn't have done that! The point is, April McGreger and her staff make different stuff every season, based on whatever is fresh and available in abundance. I NEVER (never?) advertise places to buy things on this "blog" but I am going to "link" to Farmer's Daughter. Get one of everything! The Salty Dog Marmalade has grapefruit and juniper and sea salt in it, and I rank it only at "4" because I guess - like ordinary marmalade - there are just a few truly proper things to smear it on. But I could be wrong! Maybe my imagination is insufficient. Anyway, it's amazing marmalade. We also use the Farmer's Daughter Sweet Potato/Habanero hot sauce a lot. 3. "Cereal Terra" (that's the brand) "ketchup piccante." I am afraid it has ruined us for other ketchups. Like, yesterday we broke out an "artisanal ketchup" (I guess) from the birthday batch to try on our hash browns and Dr. Theresa remarked "This is like tomato paste" when compared with the spicy flavor of Cereal Terra Ketchup Piccante (and yes, there are two c's in piccante, because it's Italian, I guess). So Dr. Theresa had to drown the inferior ketchup with a layer of ketchup piccante. I told you she likes condiments! She might rank the Cereal Terra Ketchup Piccante higher on this list. 2. Edmond Fallot Walnut Dijon Mustard. It's from, you know, France! And it has walnuts in it. And it goes on and in everything, which contributes to its high ranking. And it tastes so good you can eat a spoonful of it out of the jar. 1. Duke's Mayonnaise. For much of my life I "hated" mayonnaise. Let's analyze me! Was it because my mom would never put mayonnaise in our school lunches? She was afraid it would spoil before lunchtime! Nor, if we were going to the beach or on a picnic or anything like that (did we ever go on a picnic?), would anything with mayonnaise be included, for similar reasons. So perhaps from a young age I associated mayonnaise with danger. Ha ha ha! Or is it that I thought it was a food for "country people" (of which I was one)? My grandparents liked a spoonful of mayonnaise on a slice of fresh tomato or (as Tom Franklin and I, with our nearly identical backgrounds, have reminisced) a soft canned pear-half, with some cheese grated over it. Maybe I aspired to be too sophisticated for such rustic fare! Or maybe I didn't like mayonnaise. Maybe I wanted to be a big shot! But all through life I had to admit that mayonnaise was the only thing for a classic BLT, and maybe that is where I allowed my secret (even to me) craving for mayonnaise to express itself! Maybe I started to crack some time in the 90s. Is that when every restaurant started serving supposed "aioli"? And I was like, "Hey, this is mayonnaise!" I have heard many "food people" talk about Duke's mayonnaise. I have heard John Currence wax rhapsodically about the "old Duke's mayonnaise factory." And when I ate dinner at the James Beard House in New York City, they gave out packets of Duke's mayonnaise in the gift baskets we received upon departure. Still I resisted mayonnaise. Not anymore! We have already used a whole big jar of Duke's mayonnaise and started another. That's right, I bought it in bulk. In bulk!

Hyperlinks From a Marriage

As of today, Dr. Theresa and I have been married for 19 years. WHAT! For the first 11 years I didn't even have a "blog." WHAT! So anything that happened during that period is none of your beeswax. But everything after that is up for grabs! So here are some highlights: We saw Morgan Freeman get out of his car. We watched SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT and HOOPER. We investigated wild animal noises. We celebrated Dr. Theresa becoming Dr. Theresa. We went to the optometrist together. We were nearly struck by lightning! We watched a raccoon and a possum hang out on our back porch. We hung out with Kent Osborne a lot. We kept track for some months of a neighboring groundhog. We walked through a weird abandoned tunnel. We recalled a schoolyard legend of Grizzly Adams's beard catching on fire. We went to Elvis's house. We went to hear a Frank Sinatra impersonator. We saw a bunch of dragonflies at Robert Johnson's grave. We tried to get a kitten off the roof. We drank champagne out of martini glasses.

Dr. Theresa solved a mystery in my office. Dr. Theresa bought me pants. Dr. Theresa scared me several times with her Helena Bonham Carter impersonation. Dr. Theresa brought a goldfish back to life. Dr. Theresa saved my favorite fork when it was stuck in the drain. Dr. Theresa noted my strange susceptibility to Lady Grey tea. Dr. Theresa proved the existence of the giant turtle movie that haunted her. Dr. Theresa has uttered many memorable phrases. Dr. Theresa warned me not to be torn apart by coyotes in Beverly Hills. Dr. Theresa made coffee and eggs and tortillas at 3 in the morning. Dr. Theresa bought a $5 umbrella. Dr. Theresa made a new notch in my belt for me. Dr. Theresa ordered extra tartar sauce. Dr. Theresa danced with balls of fire. We used to go get a whole karaoke room to ourselves with our friend Caroline. We took a pregnant woman to see PINK FLAMINGOS. We saw a strange woman pushing a face-down doll in a baby stroller. We supported literacy. We had loud upstairs neighbors. We attended a rock and roll show in New York City. We roamed around the restaurants and bars of New Orleans with John Currence and John T. Edge. We ate in a terrible restaurant in Nashville. We had our picture hung up in a restaurant. We had some low-key New Year's Eves. We accidentally took a tap-dancing lesson together. We saw three huge woodpeckers. We bought a drink for D-Day from ANIMAL HOUSE. We went to a midnight screening of BLAZING SADDLES right after Princess Diana died. We stayed in a Ramada Inn that literally had an old graveyard in its parking lot. We domesticated at least one feral cat. We consumed many iceberg lettuce wedges. We watched countless horror movies. Countless! And many episodes of Lawrence Welk. We forced young people to dance. We drove to Booger Bottom on a whim. We observed a robin's nest. We discussed our paper clip preferences. We stood in a roaring wind.

Fatal Fusion

Hey Dr. Theresa and I were driving past a church just now and you know how churches have those little billboards outside with inspirational messages on them? This one said "FATAL FUSION" and that's all it said! On both sides! What is that? Something I'm supposed to know about? I am pretty sure it is not an inspirational message. Sounds like the title of an action movie. I was intrigued! Though not intrigued enough to attend church. I'm probably dumb and everybody knows what fatal fusion is. Speaking of which, I saw Bill and Jimmy at Good Idea Club last night, where we drank wine that tasted like barbecue sauce. And I told them about a description I like in ABSALOM, ABSALOM!: "his eyes looked like pieces of a broken plate" but I didn't tell them the rest of the description ("his beard was strong as a curry-comb") because I didn't want them to know I was too dumb to know what a curry-comb is. The man who is telling that part of the story in ABSALOM,ABSALOM! even appeared to think "curry-comb" was a weird thing to say, because he recalled of his father, who had originally made the description, as if musing on the strangeness of his father's utterance, "That was how he put it: strong as a curry-comb." So a curry-comb seemed like something I should look up in my WEBSTER'S NEW TWENTIETH CENTURY DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, UNABRIDGED, SECOND EDITION from 1974. And it's "a comb with metal teeth, for grooming and cleaning a horse's coat." So now I do feel dumb because everybody with a horse certainly knows what a curry-comb is but guess what. I don't have a horse. Bill and Jimmy told me last night that during the taping of my Lent Magazine interview I had pontificated at some length about iceberg lettuce wedges so naturally I urged them to send me the transcript of that portion. They've sent just a little of it, which I cut-and-paste here, though I must warn you I repeat some stuff that I've already told you on the "blog." The good news is that nobody reads the "blog." Maybe most of what I talk to anyone about comes from the "blog," because the "blog" now functions as a substitute for my memory, which no longer exists where it used to, in my brain. So I guess the "blog" is "canon," as ADVENTURE TIME fans like to say. But here's the wedge stuff: "JIMMY: How’s your wedge? JACK: This wedge is fantastic. The true wedge connoisseur of the family is Theresa. She loves a good, classic wedge. She introduced me to the pleasures of the wedge. One of many things Theresa has taught me over the years. Pendleton Ward took me to Musso and Frank’s, the oldest restaurant in Hollywood. He told me all about how he used to sit there when he was first getting Adventure Time together and work on it. We both ordered a Romaine Salad, which was how it was listed on the menu. But when it came it was like they just sliced a head of romaine lettuce in half and gave me half and Pen half. And that was it! That was your salad! I was like, they are old school here! Grind a little pepper on top, dressing on the side, you kind of spoon some dressing over it and it tastes good! Now, because of that, this wedge seems whorish to me! Tarted up! That sounds like a Harry Potter story. Harry Potter and the Whorish Wedge." Jimmy assures me that plenty more wedge transcript is on the way. Thank God! In conclusion, some dude finally decided to get with the program and send me an "oatmeal selfie." His name is Randal Cooper and here he is. And thank God too for brave souls like him.

The Gallery of My Head

FIRST! I need you to comprehend that the photo at the bottom of the previous "post" is NOT a bowl of lettuce, as Dr. Theresa understandably thought the first time she saw it. Looking at it in the light of morning, I can see why she thought that. But no, it is simply half a head of lettuce, naked as God made it, resting on a plate, like a boat upon calm waters. Next, here is that picture of my head by Tom Herpich. Apologies to Tom: I was trying at first very hard not to wrinkle or fold his nice picture, but the necessities of travel dictated otherwise. If you enjoy this picture of my head, you may want to "click" here or here to get started on your magical journey through pictures of me and my head, its peculiar curves and bulges so irresistible to the artists of our time. Speaking of galleries, ha ha (the place where the people sit and bid on items is called the "gallery" - that is the one interesting fact from my upcoming magazine article I am going to let "leak" - or wait, are the people themselves the "gallery"? They shouldn't let me write magazine articles) here (below) is the very spot where the Bob Hope auction took place. A Phyllis Diller auction took over on Sunday, and though I was flying home, I talked Verdell (who took this photo) into going. (Never mind, there is no photo below; "instagram" will not let me nab it. Maybe Verdell will email it to me later.) I can't tell you what happened to her at the Phyllis Diller auction because that's going in my article too. Okay, she stepped on some sandwich meat.

True Lettuce Story

Want to hear about my most recent trip to Los Angeles? No? Great! Let's get right to it. Pen took me to lunch at Musso & Frank's, the oldest dining spot in Hollywood, I guess. He said he used to go there and work on the very beginnings of ADVENTURE TIME. We both ordered the "romaine salad" to start with and received a head of lettuce that someone had chopped in two to split between us. Nothing on it or anything. A saucer of dressing on the side. And a pepper grinder on the table. And that's all you need, man, although it looked kind of funny just lying there by itself on the plate. I know what a classic wedge is, but this was stark. Starkly delicious! Then we went to a writer's meeting and Tom Herpich, one of the great storyboard artists and writers on ADVENTURE TIME, doodled a picture of my head and gave it to me. I looked at it and thought, "Wow, I'm fat!" Hey if you are a skinny, scrawny person like I used to be for the first half of my life, it will be a constant astonishment to yourself when you get fat. Every time you suddenly remember you are fat, you will be surprised! At the meeting, Kent and I had a big argument about the original meaning of the phrase "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I just couldn't believe some wise man in ancient times was going around telling people, "You should get some moss growing on you! It's fantastic!" But Kent's argument was forceful and compelling, filled with verbal footnotes. He cited Philip K. Dick, for example. And later it dawned on me that the Bob Dylan song "Like a Rolling Stone" is on Kent's side, too. So I admitted I was wrong. The writers ordered pizza. Somebody wanted a pizza with just basil and nothing else. Somebody wanted a pizza with just garlic and nothing else. Inside, I was like, What other kinds of pizzas will they order with a single herb or spice on it and nothing else? Somvilay seemed to think it was funny, too. He tried to get Pen to order a pizza with just mint on it and nothing else. Kent and I ate at that same restaurant I told you about some months ago, the one where Bob Hope used to eat. This time we were utterly forgotten by the staff for an incredible length of time. Kent drily pretended it was part of the historic ambience. "You know," he said, "Dean Martin used to be ignored in this very booth." He said, "Bob Hope used to put his elbows on this table and find out it hadn't been wiped down." The next morning I had breakfast at a diner with Verdell. That was the best, because I hadn't seen Verdell for five years then there she was, same as ever. We laughed constantly. The diner was called The Tallyrand. It was also called The Tally Rand and the The TallyRand. If you walk around the restaurant you can see the name spelled at least three different ways. Above please enjoy the photo Verdell took of "Sid and Sandy Sausage," who adorn the window. They are a couple of sausage links who are deeply in love. Verdell and I agreed that The Tallyrand reminded us in some ways of Mary Mac's Tea Room in Atlanta, the city where we met. There was a lime tree in the parking lot of The Tally Rand, bursting with healthful limes. Verdell parked right next to it and I was stabbed and scratched by vicious lime branches as I struggled out of the car through the sliver of door I was able to open. After breakfast, Verdell dropped me off at the auction of Bob Hope's personal items. I can't tell you about that because I'm writing an article about it for a magazine. I called Dr. Theresa and told her I was on my way to Beverly Hills and she said "Be careful," and I said "Oh no, what do you think is going to happen to me in Beverly Hills?" and she said "You could be torn apart by a pack of coyotes in front of the closed gates of a mansion," and I said, "All right sweetie." But Dr. Theresa was onto something because Verdell almost killed me twice - once swooping around Mulholland Drive and again when a tour bus nearly backed into us. As I say, we were laughing the whole time, an okay way to get killed.

Psychic Smoothie

I woke up at 2:30 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep so I got up and turned on the TV. Can you guess what I saw? No, not the Ninja Blender, but that was a good guess! I saw an infomercial for another blender, the one endorsed by Montel Williams and first brought to our attention by the NBIL. A woman said, "A regular blender can't chop through lettuce and apples!" A man said, "I could put a brick in here!" But he didn't. That would have been neat. Then the announcer said something like, "Coming up, Sylvia Browne makes psychic predictions and reveals her favorite smoothie!" And I was like, "Huh. That name is familiar to me." I think Sylvia Browne had a bunch of books on that list over at the behemoth, the one on which a customer placed my book YOUR BODY IS CHANGING as one of her favorite works about "spirituality and health." The one thing behemoths are known for is razor-sharp accuracy! Then I changed the channel and watched a great deal of CAPRICORN ONE. An astronaut on the run! From shadowy forces! He hides in a cave and eats a snake! Elliott Gould portrays a wisecracking reporter who just stumbled on the biggest story of his life! Karen Black is another wisecracking reporter. A guy who played a wisecracking reporter on the TV show LOU GRANT does not play a wisecracking reporter. He plays a low-level NASA employee who gets in over his head! Sam Waterston is another astronaut - a wisecracking one! He even makes wisecracks in the face of deadly danger. Also starring O.J. Simpson. When I was 15, I considered CAPRICORN ONE the highest of all artistic achievements.

Literary Matters

I can't believe myself. Here I am with two more "Literary Matters." I didn't even realize they were literary matters until I finished typing them up. But I can't lie to myself. I apologize for inflicting more literary matters on you so soon. I'm a monster! 1) I have been looking through A NEW LITERARY HISTORY OF AMERICA, co-edited by Greil Marcus, who may disapprove of me. My favorite part so far, by leaps and bounds, is the article on Hank Williams (he's from Alabama!), and it appears that Maud Newton feels the same way. She includes a lengthy excerpt on her "blog." And as a bonus, it turns out that she loves Roger Miller, one of my favorite singer-songwriters. (Please recall our shared affection for Peter De Vries and Charles Willeford.) My favorite part of the excerpt (and the original article) is Harlan Howard's analysis of the first verse of "Cold, Cold Heart," which is "invisibly held together by fifteen internal r phonemes." Observes Mr. Howard, "Once these words are put together this way, they don’t come apart.” A nice goal for a writer in there. 2) Speaking of which, I am reading REPETITION by Kierkegaard, and the plot is a lot like a THREE'S COMPANY episode, no kidding. This guy wants to break up with his girlfriend, but he wants it to be HER idea, so the narrator (Kierkegaard's stand-in) hires a seamstress to PRETEND (for a year!) to be the guy's other, secret girlfriend to make the real girlfriend jealous. Hilarity ensues when Kierkegaard's friend chickens out. Or philosophy ensues, I guess. At one point, the Kierkegaardian narrator explains why he is keeping his descriptions short, why he is not bringing in "a mass of unrelated things, parlours and dress and beautiful scenery, relatives and friends." He says, "I like lettuce, but I eat only the heart; the leaves, it seems to me, are for pigs." So think about that, too. (This "post" cries out for a brand new illustration - or two! - of Don Knotts as Mr. Furley. I don't know how much longer I can keep up my big artsy "random picture" idea.)

Melancholy Chicken Substitution

I walked over to Savage Pizza today to get my favorite sandwich EVER! That sandwich: the Marinated Chicken Sub. I ordered it! Hold the lettuce and mayo, but give me the rest of the works! And the woman who was taking my order told me that the Marinated Chicken Sub has been DISCONTINUED! "You know how we do," she said. But no, I did not! I did not know how they do! They discontinue things. Delicious things. They even discontinue the best sandwich of all time. But the thing that stings the most is that I have let you down, yes, you, the people of the world. I have always meant to "blog" about the Marinated Chicken Sub. But not like this! Not like this!