October 2024 – Mornin' Eagleville

October 28, 2024October 29, 2024

Mornin’ Eagleville – Annual Farmer Poetry Festival

The Annual Farmer Poetry Festival happened over the weekend. The theme this year was Childhood Memories.

Here is one of the entries called “Third Grade – Hanging Tobacco”

“Third Grade – Hanging Tobacco” by Debbie Rigsby

“3rd grade – hanging tobacco…

Missing school – coulda died…

Mama don’t care

Mama gotta be mama to four others.

Hangin’ tobacco – shit’s gotta dry – one missed step…

Spike in foot – or worse…

Food for pigs.

Daddy said when you died you were food for pigs…

Hangin’ tobacco,

I hope those people that get lung cancer appreciate my sacrifice.“

That one is by Debbie Rigsby. Good job, Debbie. That was all our memories back then… good one.

Here’s another poem by our local creepy Voltaire – Ernest Perry. It’s called – “Jeff Brown Gets Hit By A Car”

“I got a new bike for Christmas,

I was seven.

In Eagleville ain’t not many boys get new bikes at seven.

In Eagleville, boys of seven gets bikes their

Ten-year-old brothers don’t want no more.

But on April 11, I got a new bike.

Sweet new bike.

I knew I would be the envy of friends.

King of the neighborhood, if you were seven.

So… the weather was good.

In Eagleville, April 1975 I got my new bike and wanted to show everyone.

My best friend Randy Jacobs and another, Jeff Brown,

Was just sittin’ in Randy’s yard when I rolled up.

I was the proudest kid ever.

Couldn’t wait to show my friends that I got a

fucking new bike that wasn’t first

owned by a fucking fifteen-year-old.

Randy and Jeff were properly impressed.

Envious… but happy for me.

Randy was a shy guy (still is) and didn’t express emotion much.

He said:

‘Ernie, your bike is cool.’

Jeff Brown was more aggressive and said these fateful words:

‘Ernie, that is an incredible bike. Can I ride it once?‘

With no hesitation, proud to share with my friends.

‘Of course,’ I said, “But not too long.

I haven’t had much chance myself to ride it.’

Jeff took off like a dream.

Ten minutes later…

Hit by car…

I still wake up to the screeching of the tires of his father leaving the

Dairy Bar, racing to see what had happened to his boy.

Five days later…

Jeff was dead.

Whoah, that was sad.

Some powerful stuff from Farmer poet Ernest Perry, who has lived in Eagleville his whole life in that house on the hill out on Old Highway 99.

The Eagleville, TN House of Ernest Perry

Some say, even though Ernie still lives there, that house is haunted. And I believe it, Eagleville. Some things just can’t be explained.

And, remember, if you can’t be a poet, then be the poem.

I’ll talk at ya tomorrow…

Sam

October 11, 2024December 1, 2024

Mornin’ Eagleville – Bird Watching and Pottery

Mornin’ Eagleville…

We are but warriors of the working day. That’s Shakespeare, folks, but boy does it apply to this community.

I see you out there, Eagleville. I see you.

Four bird watchers from the Tennessee Valley Birdwatching Club were killed yesterday by… birds. I suppose they were large birds – birds large enough to kill a human – or four.

Are there still Eagles in Eagleville? And can an Eagle kill a person? More details to follow, I suppose.

Be careful out there, Eagleville.

There’s a new pottery shop on Main Street – Artisan Pottery.

Artisan Pottery on Main Street in Eagleville, TN

Not sure about the name. A little generic for my taste. I’d prefer, you know, Millie’s Pottery Shop & Cupcake Euphoria – or, you know, what I’m sayin’ – something folksy. This is Eagleville!

But, never mind – the important thing is… there’s a new pottery shop on Main Street – and we need new shops. It’s gettin’ a little sparse on the storefront side of things these days.

The new owners are from… oh… OK… i get ya now. The new owners are from La Jolla, California.

They make clay pots and, you know, stuff made of pottery. And, as I said, the important thing to remember is they are taking up another empty shop on Main Street. They got that California cash they’re willing to lose – so good luck to ‘em.

The Rigsbys can’t fill all them empty shops. So give the news owners a chance, Eagleville.

Everything from California don’t suck… I wish I had an example – but you get me, right? We accept all people here and if you don’t – then fuck all yourselves… I’m sick of it.

Those of you who hate people and hate in general are running out of towns to move to – so just sit back and accept shit for what it is.

Maybe even try to enjoy yourself.

And, just remember, the pain of parting is nothing compared to the joy of meeting again.

I’ll talk at ya tomorrow…

Sam

October 1, 2024December 1, 2024

Mornin’ Eagleville – Electric Trucks and Rent

Mornin’ Eagleville…

Wa-hoo, Eagleville. Sam here. I took a pull and had a little jolt of the Joe this morgan. Full power, B!

Ford F150 (NOT ELECTRIC! – The Way God Intended)

Treason to me is an ELECTRIC Ford F150. I’d rather pay two hundred dollars to fill my truck than have that. I mean, if my mom was gas and the option was to charge a car with electricity or stuff my mom in the tank to fill it up – my mom is getting stuffed without blinking an eye.

I have a nephew in… California, Chad, who says, ‘That’s stupid, Uncle Sam.’ The little fucker.

‘California’ is all you need to know about that statement. We work hard here, sonny boy. We’re more about the forklift than the facelift – am I right, Eagleville? Up top! We don’t even wear masks at Halloween. And, hell yeah, I know what that means.

The Eagleville Center for the Performing Arts – upstairs from Ashford’s Grain & Feed – is performing something called ‘Rent’ this weekend. I heard it’s got some music in it.

Eagleville Center for the Performing Arts production of ‘Rent’

Most of the cast is from Eagleville High School and College Grove Community College. I don’t know anything about that show but they did a good job with the George Jones tribute concert last year – so I imagine it will be the same good work this year.

Today’s episode is brought to you by the Pulled Pork Sandwich at the Dairy Bar this week.

The Pulled Pork Lunch Platter at The Dairy Bar (all week!)

Man, that sounds good. Nobody pulls the pork like the Dairy Bar – so get on down there. Tell ‘em Sam sent ya.

Well, that’ll do ‘er, Eagleville.

It’s time to say goodbye, but I think goodbyes are sad and I’d much rather say hello. Hello to a new adventure.

I’ll talk at ya tomorrow.

Sam