Would I Lie to You About a Thing Like This?

This is from the July 15 edition of the Elizabethton Star. Big Red's Produce is just down the road from us - less than half a mile. We love stopping in to check on the produce - and the production!

By Greg Miller, Star Staff Writer

For one group of local residents who meet at Big Red's Produce on Stoney Creek, not telling the truth ranks as a badge of honor.
Every evening, as well as Sunday mornings, members of Big Red's Liar's Club get together to swap their good-natured lies.
According to the owner of the business, Carl Canter, he is "one of the biggest" liars.
"I can compete with the White House," Canter said. "I've been lying all my life."
Nighttime is a good time to create lies. "You just go to bed and sleep on it," he said.
Practicing the lie helps, Canter explained, "but it's better if it comes straight out. That way, you don't stutter."

Lying, according to Cantor, is a form of storytelling. "I'd say we're about as good as Jonesborough," he said. "The only thing is, we can make them believe it."
"We can make them mad over it," he continued. "They don't make nobody get mad, but see, we do. We tell some dillies."
Canter began the club about 18 years ago, but he said he began lying to Barbara, his wife, 42 years ago. "I told her what a good man I was," he said. "I can make her believe anything."
Men are not the only liars to take the opportunity to share a lie. "We've got quite a few women that come in and tell a big one once in awhile," Canter said.
"All of the members are guys, but they have different people that come in and talk, but they're not members," said Barbara Canter. "The ladies come in and join in, but they're not members. They come, visit, talk, cut up and tell tales like the guys do."
Carl Canter said he likes to tell a story about Howard Grindstaff, one of the club's members.
"He had some chickens go all the way from here to Arkansas down to (former President Bill) Clinton's old place," he said. "They called, and he went and got them and brought them back."
"It did happen," Canter continued. "We sold his chickens off out here last Saturday. They were bow-legged and everything, where they had squatted and run under the rocks."
Grindstaff has been a member of the liar's club for about 15 years.
The club, Grindstaff said, "is a good bunch of people."
Being a member of the club, he added, "is a lot of fun. There's no harm intended. We just shoot a lot of bull."
"You've got to shoot bull to have hamburger meat," Cantor observed.
"He's the priest here," Canter said of Grindstaff. "We call him preacher most of the time, among other things."
"I fill in for the regular chaplain," Grindstaff said. "Grant Hardin is the regular chaplain."
Norman Peters said he is a liar in training. "I've been stopping here and learning," he remarked. "I can't keep up with these guys. They just out-lie me. It's hard to lie with the best of them. They are the experts," Peters said. "We just lie when we have to, but we have to a lot, don't we, Red?"
Getting someone to believe a lie gives a person a warm and fuzzy feeling, according to Peters. "If you can tell a lie and get somebody to believe it, that's a good feeling," he said.
The best thing about the liar's club, Peters said, is you don't ever have to wonder if they're telling the truth. "If their mouth is moving, their lying, so you don't have to wonder," he explained. "This is a good group of liars, though. They don't tell dangerous lies."
Peters said he plans to continue his lying ways. "There's no need to change now," he said. "We're too old to change now."
Their fame has spread far beyond Stoney Creek. "Playboy Magazine is wanting us all to join them, but we can't do that," Canter said. "We got a big letter from them. They're wanting us to come to California and live in the Clampett house and all that, but we decided against it. We're going to make Stoney Creek famous."
Canter said anything that is said inside the store must be taken with a grain of salt. "I can't tell the truth in here," Canter said. "You can't believe nothing."
At Big Red's Liar's Club, there is no respect for the truth. "It's all about lying," Canter said. "If you tell the truth, it's a $300 fine. You might even get blackballed out."
Grindstaff summed up his feelings about being a member of the liar's club by his willingness to talk with the Elizabethton STAR. "As long as I don't have to tell the truth, I'll be all right," he said.

What a Normal Kid Does with Birthday Presents

Notice that Eli is having as much fun with the boxes and packaging as he is with the toys that came in them. An idea for marketers - boxes that come in boxes!



Thanks, Rachael, for posting this on Youtube!

Shameless Self Promotion Ahead!

The Johnson City Press helped to increase the size of my head this last week when they ran a very large story in their "Taste" section about me and some of my favorite summertime recipes.



You can read the entire article here, including the recipes.

It was a lot of fun having a reporter and photographer come out to the house, talk to me and play with my food! This is the second piece about my cooking to run in the Taste section since we moved here, and the fourth time I've been interviewed (one was politcal, the other was about Hybrid cars and the people who drive them). It's kind of fun getting the attention, and it is refreshing that they don't just focus on people like this all the time:

Yancey Blevins Kopiski Joins the Fun on Stoney Creek

This is Yancey. He is about 9 weeks old. He is the smallest of the three surviving kittens born to Miss Mittens around Easter, and is the only gray one. He was the most cuddly of the three, which is why we chose him. Selfish, I know, but I want a kitten that will curl up in my arm and purr away a rainy night. He fits the bill splendidly.

There have been adjustments, of course. Moses was not eager to see another youngster come into the house. Ralph Stanley was down right intimidated. Hazel was willing to go along with things until the first night, when Yancey tried to nurse from her. After that, she wants nothing to do with the upstart. I can't tell if she is just being antagonistic because he is an unneutered male or because he's not a dog. It would appear those two strikes against his character are enough to put Miss Hazel into quite a snit.

Meanwhile the other two cats are warming up to the little thing. Moses does not want to be jumped on, but otherwise tolerates his new roomie fairly well (for a curmudgeon). Ralph Stanley has started playing with him, and plans to teach him how to open the closet doors for himself. Ironically - perhaps - his best non-human friend is Chester. They enjoy each other's company immensely. It reminds me of this:



Look here for the entire classic cartoon.

He is an adorable little thing, even when he climbs my back when I'm at the computer (as he ow just ouch did yow!).

Gay Cartoon Characters Mourn Falwell

"Eh-oh. Sad, sad." Was all Tinkie Winkie could say.

"She was a bitch, but she was great at getting us out in front," said Spongebob Squarepants, referring to the late Rev. Jerry Falwell, who made his Ascension this last Tuesday. Squarepants and other gay cartoon characters gathered in San Francisco Thursday to discuss the impact Falwell had on their careers, and to name a marketing successor.

"Face it," said Barney, another gay cartoon icon of the past. "He put food on my plate for years after all those brats were sick to death of me and my purple skin, Honey." The Penguins from the 2006 film "Happy Feet" also expressed sadness at Falwell's passing. They had only lately hopped on the publicity bandwagon after their film was declared "homo-tolerant" by Falwell in 2006. "Well, at least we're woolly, that's all I can say," said one spokespenguin. "We're young, and we can dance, not like that lumpy prehistoric Divine over there."

Squarepants was quick to come to Barney's defense, calling the penguins "tarts in cheap suits". At that point, this reporter started to feel queer and had to step out for a little fresh air. When I returned, the penguins were mixing Cosmos for the group. They quickly settled on Michael Medved as their publicity coordinator, having agreed that James Dobson was just too mean ("like Joan Crawford on meth", according to Velma, of Scooby Doo fame), and Pat Robertson could never be taken seriously with "that cute little Keebler Elf face of his."

The group was working on details for a press conference to announce the successor when Spongebob broke down and started shooting bubbles out of his butt. "Eh-oh," said Tinkie. I couldn't agree more.

Clean Soap vs Dirty Field Tests

This video clip was made when a punk rocker in California created a lather, recently. He was pulled over for "driving while weird", and subsequently arrested for possession of a soap bottle full of what police identified as GHB, or the "Date Rape Drug".

The company that made the soap, Dr. Bronners, came to the punker's rescue and did a little research. What came out in the wash is fascinating. Turns out any soap that is TRULY soap, and not detergent, will show a false positive when tested for GHB using the cheap and non-standardized field tests used by police nationwide. And any soap that has detergent (synthetic soap) will not show a positive.

So, this clip is great for two reasons: we have a small organic company and counterculture oddball teaming up to take on the police and the cheap tests they use to arrest and possibly convict countless people, and we have cheap drug tests that can be used to tell if a soap is really a soap. We also get to learn another way we can reduce our dependence on petroleum! At least they work for something!

Just in Time for Mother's Day!

The largest flower in the world, a native of the Sumatran rain forests, the Titan Arum is a real doozy, standing at about 12 feet high and, when in full bloom, as much as 15 feet wide. It's corm weighs an average of 100 pounds during the growing season, which, in its native ground, is the monsoon season. Perhaps for some, though, the most impressive thing about the Titan Arum is the stench - that's right, the common name for it is "Corpse Flower", and if you head to St. Peter's Gustavus Adolphus College in the next few days, you will find out why.

"People have described [the flower's smell] as rotting meat flesh," said Gustavus senior Alex Burum, who helps care for Perry, which is short for Hyperion, a Greek deity.

"We've had some concerns from professors about how Nobel [Hall] will smell for a few days," said the college's greenhouse manager, Emily Hoefs.

Said associate chemistry Prof. Brian O'Brien, who received Perry as a seed from a San Francisco doctor in 1993 and promptly planted it: "Some say it has more of a feces smell."

Said Hoefs: "I've heard it can also smell like bread. Rotting fruit." There was one final smells-like: "Fried fish," O'Brien said.

You can read more about Perry the Corpse Flower here.

New kittens! Altogether Now, Everyone Say "Awwwwwwww"

These little ones are about 5 days old. They were born of Mike's kitty, Mittens, and a neighborhood Lothario (yes, Mittens will be spayed as soon as possible). In the meantime, the boys will get a chance to see the little ones grow. At weaning time, we will take one of the fellows (they all appear to be boys). We will have the opportunity to learn their personalities and pick the one we want. The rest will find good homes.

WARNING: Cute Kids Ahead!

Ben and Lucas congratulate one another on another successful Easter Egg Hunt. They got all but one egg - the missing one was found in the branches of a tree, just about eye level to a boy. Crazy Easter Bunny!

Lukey had a bunch of plastic eggs which he undertook to fill with treats such as chocolate kisses, coins, jelly beans, and small toys. What a great idea! The boys also had a lot of fun decorating real eggs the night before Easter. Ben's hands were green for a week!

Ben and Lukey meet our new neighbor, Coco. She's about 6 weeks old in the picture, and grows daily. Chester is a little too boisterous for her, but we're hoping they can get to know each other and be friends. We have lots of neighborhood dogs that enjoy each others' company, inluding Coco's housemate, Stoney, a black Lab, Trixie, a Jack Russell Terrier who refuses to believe she is small, a Newfie pup, Sugarfoot and her roomie, Angel, and the patriarch of the group, Toby, a 16-year old Dachshund. No one's yard is safe!

Young Eli (Tony's boy, and my Grand-nephew) tries out the "Fargo Fin" look. Thankfully, he discarded that notion in favor of a more traditional look (see below).

Ah, that's better.

You Know It's Spring When They Bring Out the Eggs in Peters Hollow

Every Easter for 184 years has been celebrated in these parts just a little differently than in most other places. That's right: after nearly two centuries, the annual Peters Hollow Egg Fight remains a strong family tradition here in Stoney Creek.

No, there are no spurs attached to eggs that are then made to fight in a ring while folks throw their money down on the strongest future chicken. People don't hurl rotten eggs at each other from behind barns and trees out in the north 40. Instead, contestants tap their brightly colored, hard-boiled eggs against those of their opponents to see which one will crack. It ends, sometimes hours later, when only one person remains with an uncracked egg.

Competitions are separate for kids and adults. "I know how to fight effs because my daddy taught me", said Carson Peters, aged 3. People come from all over the country and bring hundreds of eggs with them, making the event a family reunion. This year, due to the cold, the event took place at the Volunteer Fire Department building at Hwy 91 and Liberty Hollow. Usually, though, it takes place up Peters Hollow Road.

I shake my head a little at the idea of spending so much time and effort boiling and dying eggs, just to whack them together. But when I think about the strength of family that keeps a tradition going without interruption for 184 years, I can't say a bad thing about it. Our mail lady, Joanne, is a Peters. She told me earlier this year that you don't need to be a Peters to enjoy the egg fight, but we have not gone, yet. Just knowing it is right up the road from us makes me feel pretty good, even so. It seems the ties that bind these folks are a lot stronger than the shell of an egg.

And So It Goes... Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. 1922-2007

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. died yesterday. When I read the headline this morning, the quiet of my napping cat-filled house was shattered with a long, wailing "Noooooooooooooooo". Anyone who has ever read Vonnegut knows that he was no sentimentalist. When it comes to the passing of icons, frankly, neither am I. This is because the icon has already done pretty much everything they were ever going to do. Sinatra hadn't made a record in years. Katherine Hepburn was a recluse. But Vonnegut was different. He still had work to do. Work that, for me, was extremely important.

Vonnegut was a witty and vocal critic of all institutions, including the one with which we are currently burdened - the Bush Administration. We desparately need his voice to continue. But, as he would have said, "So it goes".

I started reading Vonnegut in high school. His ability to render a situation, no matter how terrible, into a few simple, unsentimental words is true genius. This is an important talent to have. For instance, as we look at the current situation and feel that it may be the beginning of the end for the America we thought we knew, Vonnegut reminds us that we've lived through such moments. Of course, that never precluded him from getting peeved and talking about it.Perhaps it was his natural existentialism that made it easy for Vonnegut to talk about our failures as a civilization and society. He once recommended that someone carve these words into a wall of the Grand Canyon:

"We probably could have saved ourselves, but we were too damned lazy to try very hard ... and too damn cheap."

Even so, as long as we manage to hold together enough to survive, Vonnegut will live on - in his words and in his ability to inspire readers. Perhaps we will even see a sort of resurrection, as curious youngsters (and yes, they still exist) introduce themselves to his writings, and by virtue, introduce themselves to critical thought.I will close with my favorite words from Vonnegut, from "Slapstick":

I cannot distinguish between the love I have for people and the love I have for
dogs. When a child, and not watching comedians on film or listening to comedians on the radio, I used to spend a lot of time rolling around on rugs with uncritically affectionate dogs we had. And I still do a lot of that. The dogs become tired and confused and embarrassed long before I do. I could go on forever.

Well, it looks like the old fart finally got tired. Hi ho.