It's one of those days. So much going on in the news.
So how about the governor of South Carolina? Dude just up and disappeared for a few days. Imagine South Carolina with no one in charge. That would be like ... well, that wouldn't be all that much different, I guess, but folks still wondered where he was. His staff claimed he was hiking on the Appalachian Trail to "clear his head" after this year's legislative session. South Carolina might be a lot like Georgia in that regard, but it would be a governor's nostrils that would need clearing after one of our sessions, not his head.
Turns out the governor was clearing something besides his head. While the good people of the Palmetto State were waiting for their fearless leader to wander down from Springer Mountain, like an oracle of old who had been to the mountaintop and experienced an amazing revelation, their guy is, instead, stepping off a plane from Argentina, where he had been shacked up with some Internet honey.
He stepped right up to the microphone and spilled his guts. His wife forgave him and a majority of the voters probably will too - as long as he doesn't touch the Confederate flag that sits in front of the State House in Columbia.
Meanwhile, back at home, we had to say goodbye to Johnny Carson's legendary sidekick Ed McMahon this week. Nobody in the history of television ever got more mileage out of two words than Ed McMahon got out of "Heeeeeeerrrrrree's Johnny!" Jack Nicholson even spoofed him in "The Shining," one of the best scary movies ever made. You know you are big time when Jack Nicholson spoofs you in a horror show.
For years I dreamed that Ed McMahon would knock on my door and inform me that I had won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. Then I found out that you couldn't win unless you entered.
I was like a certain blonde I know who used to stay up until 11 o'clock to watch them draw the lottery numbers. She always wondered why she didn't win until I broke the news to her that you had to buy a ticket.
Farrah Fawcett is also in the news this week. Charlie's favorite angel is said to be about to lose her valiant fight against cancer. I think the word icon might have been invented to describe Farrah and her flowing hair back in the 1970s. There is probably no way to confirm my suspicions, but I would be willing to bet that the poster of her in that red bathing suit - and every 50-something-year-old man out there knows which red bathing suit - graced more college dormitory rooms than any other poster. And that includes the one from Woodstock, which occurred 40 years ago this summer.
Think about that for a moment or two. Woodstock was 40 years ago. That means that all those long-haired girls and guys who were frolicking naked in the mud in upper state New York back in the summer of '69 are in their 60s now. At least mud washes off and a person can get a haircut if said person so desires. I can't help but wonder how all the young people of today who get giraffes and ravens tattooed on the sides of their necks will feel about those in 2049. Just wondering.
This time last year my son Jackson and I were having our hearts broken when Fresno State upset our Georgia Bulldogs in baseball to win the College World Series. This year we had to be content to watch LSU claim the championship. At least it was an SEC team. We were happy to note that ESPN sideline reporter Erin Andrews is a fast learner. Unlike last year, her black roots did not get darker and darker as the two-week tournament unfolded. Looks like Erin either found out where they sell peroxide in Omaha or brought her own.
And speaking of college sports, Georgia and Oklahoma State kick off in 71 days, just in case anybody's counting. And I am.
And since someone brought up football - the SEC's new football contract will require Georgia to play a minimum of five night games this year, including the home opener against South Carolina - guaranteeing that the game will end past Gamecock coach Steve Spurrier's bedtime. At least five night games. Wow! And Alice Queen's pastor thought her church attendance was sketchy this summer!
And finally, when I picked up my paper from the driveway Thursday morning, one headline sort of jumped out at me. "2 injured in Porterdale plane crash." Now there's a headline you don't see every day!
I remember when the dairy barn burned down in Porterdale and I remember when the gym burned. My mama's Grand Ole Opry commemorative plate fell off the shelf and shattered when two men trying to bomb down the Yellow River on a runner raft had their dynamite go off prematurely and the Goodyear Blimp flew right over our house one time - but I never thought I'd read about a plane crash in Porterdale in the morning paper.
I can't wait to see what happens next week. Maybe we'll see a headline announcing that the government is lowering taxes.