Johnny Reb’s Revenge

Welcome to the South! But beware – we have some surprises for you. If you are just passing through on the way to the beach, leave your car parked in Chik-fil-A’s parking lot long enough to get a sandwich and you’ll find it. The yellow nightmare that welcomes spring here every year: pollen.

 

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We are used to it. We don’t love it, but accept it as one of the few drawbacks of living in God’s Country. I wonder what the Union soldiers thought of the yellow cloud in April of 1864. Did it slow them down or just shock the troops and make them sick along the way? I can’t imagine muskets are easy to aim anyway, but I’m guessing more than a couple Southern soldiers escaped the bullet because of the itchy eyes and runny nose of the enemy.

Despite our ideological divide, the Confederacy was short lived and we are united. This unity allows many Yankees to set up residence here when they get sick of the cold weather and frosty attitudes up north. I’m told they were called ‘carpetbaggers’ back in the day. We have nicer names for them now (when they are in earshot). We sell them our cow pastures at over-inflated prices and say things like “Bless your Heart”, which they think is nice but is actually a veiled insult.

Just kidding (except about BYH) – everyone is welcome here.

I had a humorous run-in with pollen at our first home. It was a cute little starter home that had one issue – when it rained, the run-off from the street came down our driveway and off into the side yard to a retaining ditch. You can never see something like that unless you happen to be visiting in the rain before the purchase. We weren’t and the community real estate agent didn’t share that fact. He was from Connecticut. Anyway, the first time it rained in April, our entire driveway and yard was painted yellow with pollen run-off. Being an inexperienced home-owner and relatively dull anyway, I marched up the street in the rain to confront whoever was spilling yellow paint into my yard. I figured it out fairly soon.

Now I have a new boss moving from New Jersey. He seems like a really nice guy and I look forward to working with him. I wonder how he and his family will feel about Johnny Reb’s revenge. They will mostly likely wait to move until after school is out and will miss it this year. So the question is, should I warn him?  Or let him enjoy the surprise in 2015…

 

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Photo credits: “I Heart Pollen !” by Brooke Novak & USGS Native Bee Inventory and Monitoring Laboratory from Beltsville, USA

Shutting it Down

After six months of writing this blog, I have been issued a court order from The State of New Hampshire to cease and desist using the name Portsong. It seems that an official in the city of Portsmouth got hold of my fictional history book in which I poke a little fun at Yankees during Sherman’s march to the sea. The Honorable Thomas Lankin has taken umbrage with my depiction of Union soldiers from his fair city.
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The letter looks official. I haven’t had the chance to get it to a lawyer and quite frankly don’t have the wherewithal to do so. This means a great deal for me, though. I’ve built whatever brand I have around the name Portsong and the characters within. The support I’ve garnered and readership I’ve built will be subject to loss when I rename everything. I find this turn of events quite disheartening.

Until I can sort this all out, I will have to go silent and shut down this blog. Obviously, there are some folks up north who will be happy with this. The Southern boy in me would like to make a Yankee joke about it, but I’m not up to it right now. I find it sad that a little guy in Georgia can’t come up with an idea and build a dream without being prosecuted. Where’s the justice in that?

So, goodbye, friends in my blogging community. Until we meet again, let us hope and pray that some people develop a sense of humor. The world would be a much better place – especially on this, the  first   day    of     April……

 

****Since April 1st is over, I will admit this was a gag. I think a successful one judging by the admissions below.  The best was my sister’s text of concern all the way from California where she was vacationing. Once a little brother, always a little brother.