DerricklWeston nails it again for me. Source: Feast or Famine
And to my dear friend, Morna McDermott, thanks for keeping them honest, because at the end of the day, this is what democracy looks like:
Source: Graduation Again, I have to share John Hogan’s journal from Nigeria. Including exciting video of graduation traditions at Wits University, ever reminding us of how precious access to education is, and how fortunate we are as Americans to ever be in a position to take it for granted. Thanks again, John!
Source: Charter Schools forEdualch This is a most important read for anyone who cares about the future of education for American children. You owe it to yourselves and your families to know why educators in this country are so concerned about the current state of this White House administration, as it relates to your kids and grandkids.
A great secret about being on Hilton Head at special times of the year is that island families and visitors are protected by elves that live underground. Through the years, they have observed the island’s growth from their quiet little nooks, sneaking out at dusk and in the wee hours to assist us in areas of our evolution where we need help – but didn’t always know it – and at certain times of the year, like Easter, they hire assistants to help with overflow. Right now the assistants work for Sea Pines Resort, and are taking calls for Easter Bunny pails, at $40/each, and a wagon ride, at 843-842-1979. They are under the careful supervision of head Easter elf, Jen Westerfeld, and yes, reservations are necessary.
Easter elves became necessary due to a story about a family whose parents would like to remain nameless. But whom nevertheless, had set a rather demanding precedent for their darling children, known as Carmen and Preston of Baynard Cove environs, whereby the Easter Bunny always left full, and overflowing baskets of chocolate eggs, goodies, and pastel-colored sundries next to the fireplace Easter’s Eve, giving much incentive for the little angels to snap awake early for church in the am each year.
But woe, one season back in the 1970’s, the sacred Sunday fell on the same day as the sacred Heritage Golf Tournament Final Sunday round (just like this year, of our Lord, 2017). Which also meant that sometimes, the rituals accompanying the hallowed Saturday Eves, also conflicted with one another, resulting in opposing early, Bunny tee-times, and church bells.
To wit; due to the aforementioned conflicting rituals the night before, the Easter Bunny did not make it to the fireplace of Casa Hawkins one Easter/Heritage Sunday morning, back in the day. You can imagine, upon bounding out to the fireplace in bunny pajama finery at sunrise finding no Easter baskets, the children were none-too-pleased.
As later family relations have retold this tale, the wise Queen-Mum, and her visiting sister, snuck out the back porch on the 11th tee in their dressing gowns with baskets, candy, and painted eggs (whilst the CBS cameramen were setting up on the 15th for the final day wondering to each other, what will the Hilton Head residents think of next, as they remembered that the year before, two streakers ran across the 17th fairway on live tv). Unconcerned at what the cameramen might be thinking, the sisters quickly arranged the baskets nicely at the front door of the Hawkins’ residence.
Pleased with their work, the lovely debutantes, tiptoed back around into the house, as though this was all normal, Easter-Sunday-morning-Hilton-Head-goings-on, and said, “Well, what’s wrong Preston? Why are you frowning this lovely dawn?”
And Carmen, who was older, and a little wisenheimer at this point in life said, “He’s mad because the Easter Bunny didn’t come this year.”
To which, the Queen’s sister said, “Well, has he checked out the front door? Maybe the Easter Bunny couldn’t get down the fireplace last night.” (We were also new to the Sea Pines neighborhood, so certain child-ish beliefs of a general theme were getting spun to us in odd variations as we matured).
Frowning, Preston marched his little padded hoofies to the front door, swung it open, where, SURPRISE! There were TWO Easter baskets filled with chocolate eggs, colored cellophane wrappers, with price tags, pine straw sticking out, and Spanish moss dripping off the sides. Preston stood looking down for a few minutes, and finally said, “Dumb, Easter Bunny.”
[Just a heads-up; if you weren’t living here before 1980, the rest of this might be really boring.]
Which brings me to my earlier point about the elves that have been watching island humanoids (they call us, ‘Fumbling Island Ogres’ in case you were wondering), to see what kinds of antics we might be up to, in the course of a weekly episode.
For more examples (besides just the ‘Laughingstock Hawkins Clan of Baynard Cove,’), at one time in Hilton Head’s development, early Island Ogres thought it might be nifty to erect green stop signs (so unique, even Horace Sutton mentioned it in the Chicago Tribune in 1969) and to have directional signage hanging from boat oars, to keep things recreational-looking, and resort-ish for vacationers.
As everyone now knows, landscaped rotary circles were the answer to stoplights; adorned with trees and foliage, hiding the other side of the road, so newcomers to the island would not know if the road ended, or went around to the other side, or dead-ended, or what the heck? Why doesn’t this Godforsaken place have streetlights?
Elves noticed immediately (of course, amidst much glee and knee-slapping), that Fumbling Ogres could not discern color from text when it came to disassociating the shade of green, from the word, ‘Stop’. Nor, could they retreat quickly enough from making a right turn, where the sign that said HarbourTown, with a white, painted left arrow, was hanging from a brown oar with the paddle-end pointed towards the right. This was especially funny, if it was the posted instructional sign on the rotary circle, and the paddle happened to be hanging leftward.
One can only imagine the resulting noise-pollution issues; horn honking, and finger-gesturing; lots of foreign-language shouting, which resembled much too closely, the cities from whence the Visiting Fumbling Ogres came.
So, after much more belly-laughing, the elves set about quietly adjusting mistakes for the Fumbling Island Ogres, who had to keep marching forward in this experiment known as the Shambala Hilton Head Island.
Sadly, no longer could the elves enjoy the escapades of Fumbling Ogres imbibing too much of the vine, falling from tavern into the bay, as weekend entertainment.
So, within a few short years, the green stop signs turned back to red, bike paths became more clearly marked with lots of little red stop signs, magnets appeared on refrigerators that told visitors not to feed alligators, and to turn off beach-oriented lights so the loggerhead turtle hatchlings could find their way to the ocean. Then, signs appeared on beach pathways reminding everyone to pick up after their pets, and later signs that came with plastic bags to pick up after their pets (because the elves watched Fumbling Ogres ignore the first sign, so they had to actually build a roll of plastic bags into the sign – phew – Fumbling Ogres needed lots of help).
And yes, now you can call for the Easter Bunny, so that a little kid doesn’t have to stand at the front door, shaking his head saying, “Dumb Easter Bunny” late Sunday morning.
For a Bunny pail delivery call, 843-842-1979, or go to https://www.seapines.com/events/Easter-Pail-Deliveries/April-2017 within Sea Pines Resort only. The Easter Bunny will bring a pail filled with beach toys and Easter candy, plus an elf will come along to assist. The cost is $40./pail. If you would like a pail reserved for your child and you are not staying in side Sea Pines, you can still order an Easter Pail, with 24 hours notice, and pick it up at the Sea Pines Fitness Center on Lighthouse Rd.
Source: Nigeria – Part Three I’m totally fascinated with John Hogan’s Nigerian trek, and quest, for interview with President Obasanjo. The first time I heard the term, “T.I.A.” was in the movie, Blood Diamond, that I loved so much, with Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Connelly, traipsing around Africa all those years ago.
Source: Nigeria – Part Two
Excellent public education assessment from Morna in Maryland…
The privatizers are busy at work. Unless you live under a rock (a tempting thought lately…) you probably feel like I do every time you turn on the news; the sensation of riding the Tilt a Wh…
Re-posting the musings of my erstwhile scribe of the Maryland regions. There is a hollowness to the sound of the 2017 new-year ring. If John Oliver detonated the shitstorm of 2016 – as it deservedly should have been; exploded with appropriate disgust, and it’s good thing technology hasn’t yet come up with a way to delight our senses of smell and taste, because the filmic combustion of 2016 in 3D with all sensory features working, would render any thinking human being into a state of such despair and depression, as to possibly shut down authentic creative output for a period of… oh, maybe an eon, or so.
I know that my reservoir of creative bon homie is being strained to it’s snapping point at the moment, which is why I’m grateful for fellow bloggers who can quantify how I am feeling in better, cleaner terms and with kinder sentence structure. Reading hers below, is far easier on the eye than to read my own, which began and ended with, “Eat shit and die, 2016.” HiltonHeadBlogAngel
Happy New Year!
I am tired of being a free floating signifier Referencing nothing but myself- We create an echo chamber where we hear nothing but ourselves And immortality etched in black and white Print Except th…
Source: Nihilism on New Years Eve
[The following unedited article is the PG-13 version of Sunday’s Island Packet, ‘Only on Hilton Head’, found in the Features section on page, C9, behind the half-page ad for activating your online digital Packet.]
If it weren’t for barbershop quartets, I probably wouldn’t know the second or third verses of most popular songs. That’s because not only to barbershop singers know how to harmonize like nobody’s business, they also ANNUNCIATE clearly each word, so that we’re not all bellowing perfectly, “GLOR…OORR…oorr…oorr…or…RIA, in excelsis Deo!” and then mumbling into, “Shemp and Moe…m-hm…Curly… Why mhm…Gus trains…beer bong…” trailing on similarly for two more excruciating lines until we all belt out, “GLOR…OORR…OORR…oorr…or…RIA,” like we really mean it, darn it. Alleluja, Angels We Have Heard on High. Ta-da!
As one might guess, we paid close attention to the lyrics during the Holiday Serenade at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation on Malphrus Road, in Bluffton, Friday, December 2. It helped that the programs they handed out included lyrics to all the carols so we could sing along (no fudging it that night with the Stooges, no siree). And might I say, what a lovely treat to hear Christmas carols sung in perfect and whimsical harmony by our own Hilton Head Island Lighthouse Chorus (www.hhibarbershoppers.org), a chapter within the Carolinas District of the Barbershop Harmony Society.
My neighbor Dennis Miller, sings bass in his own quartet within the Hilton Head chapter, and is busy making the rounds of assisted living facilities, offices, and churches this time of year. Anyone who hasn’t booked a barbershop serenade, or attended a concert of barbershop chorus singers, is missing out on a very special, sometimes forgotten art in American vocal music history.
Barbershop singing began in the early 1800’s in American towns, before there was easy access to any kind of public entertainment. Men would gather around barbershops – literally, it was a hangout back then – and sing harmony to amuse themselves and impress the ladies. The art of harmonizing has tentacles reaching out to urban areas where city dwellers gathered to make music without instruments. Remember the vocals of the Drifters, Temptations, the Four Seasons, and so on, all have their roots in the barbershop style of harmonizing.
And while they entertained themselves, America most certainly benefited from a whole industry and genre of inspiring sounds that permeate churches, holidays, and Americana. And speaking of holidays, if you miss out on a Christmas serenade, the next big one is definitely Valentine’s Day.
“Every year, we are booked all day long on Valentine’s Day. We charge a small fee for two songs, a rose, and a card, delivered to your sweetheart’s door. And the songs are as hokie as you could possibly want. ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart’ is always one of them,” said Dennis. This last is a song I can only hear in my head off-key, in Alfalfa’s trembling, cracking voice singing to Darla with bubbles flying out of his mouth, so maybe Johnny D will surprise me with a little hokie barbershop serenade this year, and I’ll finally hear how ‘Sweetheart’ is supposed to be sung.
(You definitely have to watch this, okay? Now, you will totally appreciate the harmonious, harmonizing of the Hilton Head Barbershoppers)
Barbershop choruses donate portions of their proceeds to benefit area music non-profits, like high school programs that need rebuilding. Currently, much of the Lighthouse Chorus proceeds are going towards rebuilding their own membership. Sadly, the area chapter of harmonizers has dwindled from about forty singers ten years ago, to sixteen or so, presently, as interest in the genre has waned. Participating in competitions is also part of the annual schedule of events for members, an added perk of traveling that they enjoy.
The Hilton Head chapter encourages anyone interested in participating or listening to them rehearse or simply learning more about how to become a chorus singer (you only need to love to sing, the program says), to attend any of their weekly rehearsals on Tuesday night at 7 pm at the Cypress Clubhouse in Hilton Head Plantation, 20 Ladyslipper Lane, 29926. You can call for more information, (843) 290-9517 or email, email@example.com.