Silver Hill Timeline
The one, the only, Stone Mountain
Village Life Timeline
Life and times of the village at the western foot of Stone Mountain
National Water
This timeline discusses the history of major water infrastructure, and more.
Presidents
The presidents and their eras are inseparable.
Marsha Marsha
Dedicated to Marsha Dusek
Interview
Lyrics
Step right up I got a story to tell. It takes place in Old Florida near a wishing well. The names and places may be re-arranged. But what went down is more or less the same. It was midnight in Salt Lake when she got the fateful call about a missing footprint of a Texas Panther paw. It sounded so peculiar, she packed her bags and sent her money in for a Florida Cougar license tag. Turns out Tamiamiβs too fast for our liking, gonna hafta ban all the cars and keep it to ten-speed biking, or use lots of ripple strips, you know they work just fine. Or how about painting a panther on a couple of signs.
It isn’t simple, there’s no easy plan.
First a hundred panthers, and how her.
She took The Plan deep into the woods. Panther got one look, he said β βThis ainβt no good. We need a bridge that spans from here to βthere, Route the traffic down around in boats, or fly it up in the air.” Whatever happened to living on the land? That got lost to development, itβs approved in The Plan. “You mean to tell me, thereβs no place left to go? First they stuck me in the mud, next theyβll send us to the snow.β βOh, you mean the glaciers? Yeah, theyβre moving in, too. What once was dry land is seeping in my shoe.β βHurry up and mix, weβve gotta pour the plaster before that rain cloud fills the print up any faster!β
Florida is a force sort of like fate
“Would you like some raw hog head?” βNo thank you I just ate.β
Story
This song was sung, and then didn’t get sun again for 20 years.
powerpress
Artifact of the Moment
Pre Typewriter
I remembered when I first learned …
To use a typewriter.
[soliloquy id=”2449″]
Performed to Dylan’s It’s Alright Ma
I was in twelfth grade. Cumbersome at first, and plodding. I didn’t much see the point. And then it clicked — and I was off to the races typing lightspeeds faster than I could write. The irony was in 10th grade, just two years before, my brother typed my American History paper (Topic: Should Eisenhower have crossed the Elbe River Faster?) for me. That makes me laugh because to this day my brother types with two fingers. It’s painful to watch, whereas I mastered using all eight fingers and both thumbs.
Fast forward three decades later I have to remind myself to even pick up a pen. And how quaint even now a typewriter seems in retrospect. Increasingly, I’m too lazy to even thumb out an email, let alone a text with ample impossible to interpret autocorrects — and even resorting to just audio transcribing into my phone to respond to texts and emails. What is the world coming to! Oh, and how the mighty have fallen. If my 18 year old self could see me now, I really wonder what he would say. Instead of reading books and handwriting long letters to distant friends, here I am lost in my thoughts of how things used to be. I’m not saying the typewriter was a slippery slope, but what I am saying is that this song stayed handwritten. It never got typed out or saved into a computer as a Word file.
The topic? My then boss was turning fifty, 2 years younger than I am now. At the time, he seemed so much older, but maybe that’s because everything is relative. What’s that saying: “Better late than never?” Final note: I couldn’t make the big event, but not wanting to be left out or contribute in someway, I wrote this song — and here’s the funny part: I recorded it on a cassette tape. No joke. I wonder if Ron still has that tape now, and if so, and probably the more impossible feat — If he has a tape recorder to play it on?





