Clean Slate

  A Clemson friend of mine responded to my post yesterday about how the 1977 last minute loss to  the Tigers cemented my affection for and loyalty to Carolina. He said, "Only a Gamecock would cite a loss as the moment that glued you to your team." He is right. For the young whippersnappers like my nephews who think the Red Sox have always been winners having now won three World Series titles in a decade. It was not always so. The Gamecocks are riding a 17-game home winning streak. It is the longest active streak in college football. With two or three games left to play, the tiny 5 man Senior class already has 40 wins and no Gamecock class has ever done that before. And yes they have beaten Clemson every year since Obama has been our President. My first thought was to quote the Jefferson's theme song here as it has taken a lot of hard work for the Gamecocks to get to this point.    My Dad once had a variety of jobs and one was as a salesman and on-air talent for my

   As a native son of the Palmetto state exiled across a continent, this week perhaps more than any other makes me pine for home. It is the week of the Clemson game, Carolina-Clemson week. Most states have their particular rivalries and think that they are the best. It all depends on your perspective. For me the finest NBA player ever is Alex English. Our nation's best actress is a tie between JoAnnne Woodward and Andie MacDowell. Then the best rivalry is South Carolina and Clemson. Out here in Northern California, they call the annual contest between Cal and Stanford: The Big Game. When you feel the need to label it as such then it is probably not that big a deal. It reminds me of a sports talk radio host from my days in the Holy City. He called himself The Big Kahuna. I met him and yes he had a big gut but was not that big a dude. He was not Hawaiian or a surfer. Just a former male cheerleader. I don't judge, just reporting the facts.   At Carolina Elementary School w

You might know the punchline to the saying, "How do you make God laugh?" It is, "Tell Him your plans." It is true. It hit me again today and tonight about the wondrous love he has for us and me and that he has plans for me. Growing up, and I am still growing, I had plans upon plans of what I wanted to do. What I planned to do. I can tell you that not one of them had me living in California for over a decade. None of them had me marry a Mongolian woman. Now they all had me naming my first son after myself but that is about the only one that has happened as I planned. Yet it only occurred after I had decided that my lot was to be a lifelong bachelor. Again God laughed at me.    If you asked if me back home in South Carolina about the chances of me ever meeting a Mongolian much less marrying one and taking our baby boy to celebrate Nadaam in Golden Gate Park, well I would have laughed at you and asked that you lay off the Humboldt County herb.    Yet here I am

   As a kid I never worried about my bank account, what was in the fridge or pantry or what tasks I had to do that day. It was all about fun. I bet I smiled all day. I have no proof of the smiles but my two sons are a font of endless smiles. With Louis, III I was often asked why he was so happy as if there was a mystery involved. Think about it, he was a kid and I was/am his Dad and Tsengel his Mom. That is a sweet gig if you can get it. Just having. Tsengel as your wife is enough to produce a plethora of smiles.   Now with Isaac he is just as happy and free with his smiles as his brother, if not more so. I see it on our walks to and from school, at church, when shopping and when we go out to eat. He smiles and says Hi and even the most crotchety old Mr Wilson-wannabe breaks down with a smile and hello in return. Now I could just think how nice and go on about my business but I like to think about things and how they work or maybe should work.   Isaac operates with no regards to

Harmony by  Stuart Kestenbaum You know the Beatles could have afforded another microphone, but George would always stand in the middle and step up to Paul's when it was time to join in. Because that's the way harmony is, you need to share the electricity, the voice, the words. Just the way we do when we drive in our cars with the radio on, the windows rolled down with fall in the air, dead leaves swirling in the wake, or in the spring, the earth damp and soft, the air hazy with pollen. We hear the song that moves us, crank the radio and sing along, at the top of our lungs, as if we just joined the group. In tune out of tune, country western, rock and roll, we want to harmonize. A whole country of would-be stars losing love, finding love with the radio in different cars, on different paths, the dark road rumbling beneath. "Harmony" by Stuart Kestenbaum, from  Pilgrimage . © Coyote Love Press, 1990. Reprinted with permission. ( buy now ) One of the best dail

   I am the plan man. It is both a self-designated title and one also agreed upon by my family. I am always on the lookout for a new place to see, thing to do or route to take. Though not a traveling gypsy, I was raised on the road. My Mom was a school teacher which gave her lots of vacation time that obviously neatly coincided with the schedule of both me and my sister. I got used to driving the 12 hours one way to and from Milan, Tennessee and my hometown of Hartsville, South Carolina at least once a year if not twice. Then the 8-10 hour treks to Zephyrhills, Florida were also regular occurrences. I would initially fight my sister for the front seat and she would always win the battle. I never really wanted the front seat. I preferred the vast expanses of my Mom's Ford LTD backseat to the front seat but when a chance was presented to antagonize my sister, I jumped at it.   I have never been one to get car sick. I can ride, drive, sleep, eat, read and be fine in the Appalachians

Jesus Saves. Simple and true. Two words that can change an eternal life. Two words that when accepted, believed, trusted and obeyed have the power to change today, tomorrow and beyond.    Spurred by the insight and humor of my hometown friend's blog, http://redneckineurope.blogspot.com/ , I have finally decided to activate and use this blog. I named it back in my days as a wine and spirits salesman. Clean Slate Riesling was a personal favorite of mine. A fine and affordable example of what quality Riesling can be. My wife enjoyed it too. I will still use the title because it can certainly lend itself to other thoughts. The wine was clean and crisp and the grapes ripened on slate-covered hills with the sun reflecting off of the stones and the stones themselves making sure that the growth of the vines was not as simple as growing vines in the sun-drenched California soil.    The vines have to struggle. They can't just grow like gangbusters and produce copious amounts of fruit