A travel feature I wrote recently ran in November's Coastal Living. I can't say enough about Grenada. Lovely place. Here's the lead to the piece.
The Little Dipper's seven patio tables overlook a twinkling Caribbean. Tonight, the chef―who's also waiter and hostess―prepares Creole fish with vegetables. Although the small restaurant is one of the best in Grenada, it's the vista that stands out. Sailboats sway at anchor on Clarkes Court Bay, and lights blink on against dark green hills. The island's hidden treasure is its views―and not just from quaint seaside cafés.
Read more here.
posted by Joe at
14:35
7.13.2008
(South Carolina's 1,500-year-old Angel Oak. Photo credit.)
FROM SOUTHERN LIVING.COM - When I think of trees, I think of the four spring-flowering Bradford Pears that made a square in my childhood backyard. How the trees formed a lane perfect for pitching baseballs (to my mother mostly). How I watched them, unknowingly, grow from weak treelings to wonderful, burgundy-leafed adults. And how they sort of watched me rise as well. Trees are markers of the changing seasons, givers of shade, reminders of time, and anchors to place.
Here are a few famous ones in the South that bring to mind the words of William Cullen Bryant, "The groves were God's first temples."
Texas' Big Tree
Known also as the Bishop Oak, this massive and aged tree on Goose Island is known to most as the Lone Star's largest. Its spot, 40 miles northeast of Corpus Christi, smells of sea salt on windy days.
South Carolina's majestic Angel Oak
Looking at the Johns Island, SC oak makes you feel like the world was bigger in another age. That this tree is only remnant. The branches grow in and out of the sandy soil like they have minds of their own. And the name doesn't hurt the mystique, though most are surprised to realize it was the family name of previous landowners. With 17,000 square feet of shade capabilities, the Angel is most magical of Lowcountry oaks.
Georgia's towering Gennett Poplar
If you find yourself near Ellijay, GA, stop by North GA Outfitters (706-698-4453) downtown and ask about the Bear Creek Trail off Gates Chapel Road. Twenty minutes on the trail, an easy walk for even novice trekkers, and one of the region's largest poplars stands high above the rest of the protected Chattahoochee forest. I measured its base at 5 bearhugs round.
Louisiana's Cat Island King Cypress
To see dreamy bayou cypresses in multitudes, I recommend Caddo Lake north of Shreveport. But to see the king of all cypresses in the state, venture to Cat Island National Wildlife Refuge near St. Francisville. In the beginning of settlements in Louisiana, cypress was the wood builders chose for homesteads, cabins, shotgun houses, and furniture because of its sturdiness and resistance to weather and bugs. Luckily, they never found this one, the largest in the state at 53-feet in circumference.
(Photo by John J. Young)
Washington DC and the Tidal Basin
Approximately 3,750 cherry trees dot the Tidal Basin in our capitol, most of the Yoshino Cherry variety. Other mystically named species
include Kwanzan Cherry, Akebono Cherry, Usuzumi
Cherry, Weeping Japanese Cherry, Autumn Flowering
Cherry, and Afterglow Cherry. I hear locals brave the DC winters with dreams of the Festival and the booming and bright cherry blossoms.
The Tree That Owns Itself calls Athens, GA home
I've heard of the wealthy and absent-minded man who wills his fortune to a mean old cat, but never this. Between Dearing and Finley Streets in the college town east of Atlanta, this white oak legally owns the land within 8 feet of its trunk. Or so says the legend and stone marker. The official deed papers burned in a fire, but were to have read something like this:
I, W. H. Jackson, of the county of Clarke, of the one part, and the oak
tree… of the county of Clarke, of the other part: Witnesseth, That the
said W. H. Jackson for and in consideration of the great affection
which he bears said tree, and his great desire to see it protected has
conveyed, and by these presents do convey unto the said oak tree entire
possession of itself and of all land within eight feet of it on all
sides.
Survivor Tree in Oklahoma City
The American Elm stands as a symbol of hope and resilience in the heart of Oklahoma City's beautiful National Memorial. Called the Survivor Tree, the elm lived through the 1995 blast. After the bombing, debris strewn in the limbs, investigators considered bringing down the tree for processing of the evidence. Better heads prevailed, and today the Elm stands in remembrance.
posted by Joe at
14:35
Paste published a profile of mine this month. It was a new experience for me: Taking an assignment about something I knew almost nothing about, digging in, and writing up a piece. Lucky for me, these guys, especially Jack White, kill on-stage and make for intriguing conversationalists.
Here's the story,
Jack White - even after interviewing Jimmy Carter and Ken Griffey Jr - has been the most dynamic human I've spent time with thus far. The guy radiates something. His stature during shows reminds me of a boxer, big, menacing, powerful. And that voice. Tales from the Crypt.
Funny tidbit. So I was admittedly nervous to spend a hour with the band, who were to meet me at the Union Station Hotel downtown at 4. I had an hour to kill. During that time, I grabbed a Stella at the 12South Taproom, and proceeded to pick apart the clothes I was wearing. You look too much like a college intern whose mom still shops for him. That shirt is wrinkled. Leather shoes, really? Stupid thoughts like that.
Well, the thoughts won. I ended up swinging by the Thrift Store before the interview. Bought a sweet red plaid farmers shirt minus the silly pearl snaps. I also purchased, on a huge nonTB whim, a leather vest. Wore it in under my tan blazer. And the first thing uttered to me by Patrick the drummer: "Sweet vest man."
There is also an interview about Nashville on Paste's website. Here.
posted by Joe at
07:06
George Rodrigue's Blue Dog paintings and silkcreen prints have nosed their way into our American visual iconography. Ask anyone anywhere if they know the Blue Dog and chances are you'll get a bright-eyed yes. In recognition of such a colorful, distinguised, and massive career, the New Orleans Museum of Art and Rodrigue gather a 40-year retrospective "Cajuns, Blue Dogs, and Beyond Katrina," showing until June 8. What visitors realize when roaming the multiple rooms and viewing the 200 plus original works: this man treasures Louisiana. And, judging by reception in NOLA, the feeling is certainly mutual.
I spent an evening with Mr. Rodrigue and his son Jacques last week in New Orleans. If you are headng to NOLA for Jazzfest, make time to see the exhibit. It's worth it.
Visit the Southern Living travel blog to see more of the Blue Dogs. Click here.
posted by Joe at
14:45
"The Homebird's Chorus"
Paste, May 2008
Belfast's streets used to be war zones. Its population suffered through curfews, car bombs and religious murders. It ushered the word terrorist into the spoken lexicon. But the city has gone fairly quiet these last 10 years. It's beautiful in fact, thriving economically and drawing more tourists than ever. Even so, an aftershock lingers: three decades of havoc inflict deep wounds on a people's spirit, even when the death counts drop and the machine-gun murals are painted over. This story is about a son of Belfast who sings the city's hope tucked inside lament.
I met Charlie on a sunny June night in Belfast. I’d been roaming around, passing the long-light hours before a small, unlisted show by a local-done-good songwriter named Foy Vance, about whom I knew almost nothing. I hadn’t even confirmed the location of his oddly hush-hush concert. I knew he’d performed with The Ulster Orchestra in Belfast a month prior, jamming with the 70-piece company on the river. I knew locals pronounced his name “Five Ants,” but I’d only heard a couple songs. I had a hunch, though, that the guy mattered here. His voice had Solomon Burke’s expressiveness, and his melodies unfolded methodically. I figured this city and that sound could be like the blues.
For more, go here.
posted by Joe at
22:47
Johnnie B. Griggs, 1919-2008
Nature never sends a great man into the planet without confiding the secret to another soul. -Emerson
posted by Joe at
21:33
