[Perrin Lovett] - RUN!!! Or Walk: A Thanksgiving Tradition

It was a cold New England morning, maybe around 5 or 5:30 AM. I was up because I’m always up at that time. And, the time was on my mind. I knew that shortly the womenfolk and children would awake, start making noise, and then head down to Main Street a little after 7. They did. And, per my sad usual habit, I merely saw them off. Yes, I shared a parting Mimosa and gifted a loving “get out of here!” but I had missed another one. I missed all of them. Every year.

Just today (today being Sunday, the 24th), I was reminded by the Andover Townsman that Thursday plays host to the 32nd Annual Feaster Five Road Race in Andover. The Townsman warns: “It's that time of year, when certain Thanksgiving guests arrive with a boxed Table Talk apple pie and a hearty appetite. They're hungry after a long run.” Yep, it’s the same race and pie scene Big Tom dodged in chapter twelve of THE SUBSTITUTE. I’m not sure about him, but I almost wish I had ventured out for just one.

The Race Home Site proclaims, honestly: “The Feaster Five Thanksgiving Day Road Race in Andover, MA has been a Merrimack Valley tradition since 1988. At 10,000 participants, it is one of the largest races in Massachusetts and one of the largest Thanksgiving day races in New England.” 

Feaster Five

I was in town, though not on course, for most of the races from 2000 through 2012. About half the time, I would register. This afforded me some cool commemorative long sleeve tee shirts but little else. Sadly, I never made it to the starting line, let alone the finish line. Why? Well, formerly heavyweight Perrin could and did pack away the adult beverages back in the day. Mornings would find me … not in the best running form. Yeah! That sounds better than the truth. I was also usually in search of coffee, with or without Bailey’s (generally with), those Mimosas, or a Bloody Mary. In my defense, someone had to hang around the house to keep the fire going and prep the turkey for dinner. Selflessness is next to laziness.

You can gather that I have a few regrets about the yearly debacles. It would never happen now. And, the irony of ironies, now that I’m 80 pounds fitter and 3% more responsible, nearly everyone I once knew has removed from the town. No matter. Next year, or the year after, or sometime in the indeterminant future, I’m going back for a mulligan. This year, I’ll either take a stroll in the woods or hit the gym. I trust all of you will make similar commitments to fitness. 

Some suggestions:

• Run the Five yourself (if time and distance allow);
• Other places have road races too;
• Stalk the woods with me;
• The gym;
• The MMA ring;
• The range; 
• Cigar Long Ash Contest; and/or,
• ETC.

Then, partake of the other favorites:

• TURKEY!!!;
• Watch other men’s athleticism on the TeeVee;
• Also on the tube, see Big Bird and other foolishness in Manhattan; 
• Mimosa, it’s what’s for breakfast;
• Black Friday or Thursday(!);
• Humor the young;
• Do the dishes; or just,
• Sing along with Arlo:

♭

…

KILL! KILL!

…

Excepting Alice

…

♭

As a final holiday thought, consider that Andover Classic Wines … excuse me, ANDOVER LIQUORS hasn’t been the same since they gave Rich the shaft. Yes, some of us remember. I, for one, can remember going in on Thanksgiving morning with Rich, when the store was closed, to reload for turkey night. 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

- Perrin Lovett

[MB McCart] - 1st Report on Steve Horton's Campaign Contribution Disclosure Report

By MB McCart, Editor

[State of GA] 

[Newton Co.]  

(Covington, GA | 11/26/19) - 

This publication had previously decided & publicly stated that it would do some further research into the campaign of our current Mayor-Elect Steve Horton. Here is the first report: 

First off, the Horton campaign raised a lot of money: $20,570.00 

I'm fairly certain that's the most money - by far - ever spent on a Covington municipal race. Let's delve in.

As previously mentioned, I was very interested in that big billboard. Based on the disclosure reports, Aj Liquidators made an in-kind contribution of $2500 to the Horton campaign for the billboard expense. The Horton campaign also had an expenditure in the amount of $440.34 to Aj Liquidators for "campaign billboard fees & rental" (Inv# 620).

More about Aj Liquidators:

Their registered agent is one Robert John Bezborn. They are registered as a foreign limited liability company under the jurisdiction of Texas. Their principal office address is 10139 Industrial Dr. Covington, GA 30014. John Bezborn is also a co-owner of Mystic Grill as well as The Goodie Barn, both in Covington.

Other major campaign expenditures included:

- Landmark Communications. Marc Rountree's political consulting firm: $7,060 

- LRC Promotions: $9,971.97 

A future report will offer some commentary as well as looking into the contribution side of things. Look for that down the road.

- MB McCart 

[Bess Tuggle's Memoirs of Surviving Children] - Merry Sparkles!

“Yes, there was glitter EVERYWHERE!!!  It was on the tables, on the walls, in the carpet, through the halls…  EVERYWHERE!” 

The story of hand-made snow globes really didn’t stop at my last column, I just got so wrapped up in that story I forgot to share some funny details.  (If you’re scratching your head in confusion, check out my column last Monday).

Our Cub Scout Pack was sponsored by a very nice local church.  When I say “local,” I mean something out in the boonies, but they were kind enough to share their facilities with us, and we all appreciated it.

There was a Fellowship hall where we met as a Pack, shared awards, news, upcoming events... then broke up through a small hallway, which went down about 4 steps, turned right to another hallway, and held the classrooms which we used as our “Dens.”

That hallway provided a LOT of entertainment, for the kids and adults alike.

After our lovely snow-globe project, located in each den (classroom), we had an awfully big mess to clean up.  And yep, the hallway was the worst.

My best friend, bless her heart, volunteered to vacuum the hall in attempt to keep the sparkly mess from spreading, kinda like the flu.

Wouldn’t you know it, a couple other leaders got in on that cleaning that mess.  My buddy is one smart cookie (former GM technician and loader of pigs onto a trailer with a broken truck hitch – probably more on that later).  She also trusted a couple fellow leaders to her detriment.

While vacuuming the hallway for glitter, the vacuum died.  Just on, then off.  She checked the power switch, amongst other things, then looked back behind her.  Wouldn’t you know there was another leader with the power cord in his hand.  He picked it up, doubled it over like you would a garden hose to stop the water, and grinned. 

After getting her “evil eye,” and knowing that couldn’t really happen, the leader uncrimped the cord, and the vacuuming continued.  Several times.

But not for too long.

My vacuuming friend finally got fed up with the power outages.  She turned the vacuum off, even though it wasn’t working at the time, and stomped to the end of the hall.  There she beheld the leader crimping the cord, and another around the corner, pulling the plug out each time he saw the cord crimped. 

I think they’ve all recovered, unless a chronic case of the giggles at the memory counts as an ailment.   

Merry Sparkles, Ya’ll! 

Wish everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving, and hope you take the time to have a lil’ fun, too.

Merry Sparkles!

- Bess Tuggle

[MB McCart] - 1st Report on Delinquent Newton Co. Property Tax Bills

Outstanding Ad Valorem Taxes in the Home County

A report by TPC Editor, MB McCart 

In light of the recent revelations that the outstanding property tax bills of the late George Hart were approaching $550,000 with no payments having been made in the last several years despite the fact that a payment plan was supposedly to set up years ago, though based on my research not a penny had ever been paid, this publication became very interested in some of the other outstanding property/ad valorem tax bills in the county. Particularly in light of the resignation of the previous Newton Co. Tax Commissioner, Barbara Dingler, at the end of September, this endeavor seemed needed. 

I reached out to the new Tax Commissioner - Dana Darby - the day after she took office. A few days later, I asked for the Top-25 largest tax debts owed to the office. Within a few days one of her assistants emailed the full list of delinquent tax accounts totalling over 600 pages!

The list was over three months old, however, so I did make a good faith effort to double check all of these debts at the Tax Commissioner’s website to make sure the information I’d publish would be as current as possible. 

In no particular order, here are some of the largest (based on dollar amount as well as number of years) delinquent tax accounts in the home county: 

- David W Plott. Property ID: 00160 131. Approx 37 Ac Bethany Rd.Total due: $35,458.03 Delinquent for at least 9 years.

- Plain Nuts. Business Inventory/Equipment . ID #’s: P1 56584 - 1 & P1 42980. Total due: approx $4,968 delinquent for at least 9 years

- James Clay Newman. Property ID: C0350 0070 049. .195 Ac Clark’s Grove. Total due: $90,948.05 delinquent for at least 9 years

- William Norton. Property ID: C0400 00020 018. Tract 9 Turner Lake. $4,239.01 owes for 7 years. 

- COVINGTON RENTAL. 

P1 15618 0001. Total Due: $15,313.58. Owes for at least 5 years.

• 
  

 P1 40325 001. Total Due: $2,753.33. Owes for at least 4 years.

• 
  

|||||||
This is just the tip of the iceberg, readers. There are literally several dozens more, if not hundreds. A recurring theme:

It seems as if a lot of folks just don’t really care about paying business inventory & equipment ad valorem taxes. That seems very unfair to the majority of business owners that do. I’m not sure of the particulars related to those taxes vs actual property taxes where there can be a forced tax sale on those. I’m going to be reaching out to Dana Darby to get more information on that. 

And speaking of forced tax sales & the buying of tax certificates, my research did discover that there have been a few of those recently. Say what you will about that process & the folks that do a lot of those (Ricky Mock comes to mind as one of the biggest players in Newton Co.), at least it does get those outstanding property taxes paid.

I’ll be doing another report on some additional delinquent tax accounts in the near future.

- MB McCart 

The Piedmont Chronicles

Your Source for the REAL Story

Perrin Lovett: BIG DOIN’S USA - A Glance Around the Nation-Shaped Kind of Place

Squaw’s Lament: Calling Electoral Business a Little Early

Cometh the GREAT QUADRENNIAL BLACK MASS of 2020. It’s not even going to be close. 

They are the most persistent little termites in all the annals of Insect-dom, but the coup isn’t working as intended. It’s slowing things down, yes, but they just can’t defeat the evil Orange Man. The hearsay-Ukraine “impeachment” charade is collapsing in real time, exactly like the Russia! Russia! Russia! hoax before it. The star witness, intimidated by mocking laughter, said there was no crime. The hoaxers won’t even pull up the “real” witness; they can’t even bring themselves to mention his name. By the way, it has C-I-A in it! (One just can’t make this crap up). What’s next?

The 2020 election sure as hell won’t get them anywhere. The sacrificial lamb is Elizabeth Warren, who is a FULL .000000278% Native Amerikan Endien. 

Crypto Fashion (Vox Day)

Squaw Warren speakum with multi-forkem tongum. Drink ‘em big fire wah-tah. Wantz um superum-size taxum. Seriously, her wealth transfer plan calls for a top tax rate of effectively 158 Insane Percent! 

That’s not going to work, even if it stood any chance of passing the corrupt Congress. 100%+ taxes + negative interest rates + unlimited funny money + any of the other issues ≅ civil war now, not 2033. It also, for practical purposes = Trumpslide 2020.

That’s my call, nearly a year out. This largely resembles my best case scenario from 2016, which election turned out closer to my middle prediction. 

“It’s Always the Guns”

So cries the LA Times. Except that it’s not. It’s always the kids too. Always with psychotropic medications. Always, always the government schools.

Another school shooting - a terrible affair - comes and goes. This time the white supremacist terrorist shooter was an Asian kid who did not fit the usual gamma-incel profile. And, they’ve gone mighty silent following the initial shrieks for MOAR GUN CONTROL. That, I am convinced, is no longer an option. Today, even the left has a love of firearms - though maybe not for the best of reasons. But, the point is that guns are everyone’s bailiwick now. 

The lies continue, however. The Times had their stats, and, I imagine, some genuine and sincere concerns. For 2019, they claim “13,000 people nationwide shot to death so far this year, with 21,000 additional people killing themselves with firearms.” But, they (as usual) miss something - also this year, by CDC estimates, about 2,187,500 lives have been saved by firearms. The NET effect. 

There is the interesting question of why some (very few) male students these past two decades have turned their impotent rage into lethal violence at the government schools. It’s a question that really needs answering. But, people disliking facts and such, I suspect we’ll just drift along, sacrificing a minority of the kids to idiotic rampages and the majority to the “sinkholes of mediocrity.” That’s what Thomas Moore calls the schools in his review of my novel. More about that in, 

THE SUBSTITUTE VIDEO

I ramble and recite Moore comparing me to Upton Sinclair. Not too shabby.

Now, even the post-literate can sort of enjoy the book… I used to do at least a video a week, usually paid, for an audience. Most of that is long gone. Make sure to “like” and “share” and whatnot.

Next time - I’m feeling some fiction coming on. The trick is to get ahead of reality, which is very hard at this point. I had thought to do a story about a paedo prince at a pizza party, but… Maybe the Goat Man can save us!

- Perrin Lovett

Bess Tuggle's Memoirs of Surviving Children: Memories of Christmas Past

I don’t know when this started. I really don’t, but it’s taking a little bit more out of the calendar -every- -single- -year-.

Christmas.

When I was little it seemed to take forever for Christmas to get here. Shoot, that was back when summer vacation was a lifetime and we were all finally bored and ready to go back to school and see our friends again.

Not anymore. First the poor old turkey bit the dust. Is Thanksgiving even a ‘thing’ anymore or just the prequel to Black Friday? Then Halloween, unless you want to dress up like Santa or a reindeer; oops, can’t forget Frosty. There’s even ‘Christmas in July’ sales that almost rival Black Friday, not to mention Cyber Monday. I hope I don’t live long enough to see Santa in diapers with a bow and heart arrow. Not a pretty Valentine’s Cupid image, in my humble opinion. He might make a cute Leprechaun though.

As Christmas comes screaming in like a freight train, it does so with memories – and some of the best came from Scouts (Cub and Boy Scouts).

Each and every year our Cub Scout pack did a service project for the holidays. Now, I want you to remember, Cub Scouts are first through fifth graders, usually with associated family members in tow. We had SUCH a wonderful pack, and SO much fun!

One year we decided to make Christmas Cards and Snow Globes for each member of the ‘Old Folks High Rise’ assisted living center in town, a cookie tray for each floor commons area, and Christmas Carol every door to deliver the presents.

The cards weren’t much of a problem. Most moms had already learned to save -everything- that didn’t stink or bite back. Old cards were recycled with all the pretty pictures glued to the front of the new card and a heartfelt, when legible, message from a Scout.

The cookie trays were good, too. All us moms, dads too, baked cookies, the Pack bought some Dollar Tree serving trays and we met to pile them with cookies as high as we could get them.

Then came the snow globes.

This was a very creative project for the kids. Gluing, painting, imaginative design, working with fluids and glitter… Close your eyes and imagine the mess that ensured.

We had plenty of moms that kept baby-food jars for craft projects (remember, we’d learned not to throw out almost -anything- by then). Glue some holiday figures to the inside of the lid, fill it up with baby oil, add some glitter, put the lid back on and hot-glue it together. Sounds like an easy project, but I used baby-oil and glitter in the same sentence and all these children were (not including siblings) between first and fifth grade. I bought every bottle of baby oil in the county. Won’t even -try- to describe the looks I got for that one.

Yes, there was glitter EVERYWHERE!!! It was on the tables, on the walls, in the carpet, through the halls… EVERYWHERE! And it didn’t stop there. The kids wrapped the presents and leaders took them home to store until our Caroling night. All leaders house’s had oily glitter on the tables, on the walls, in the carpet, through the halls…

Finally came show time! We put a cookie tray on the table on each commons room floor. We knocked on every single door in the high rise, sang ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas,’ and bestowed upon each resident a Made-from-Scratch card and Snow Globe present.

In addition to songs and hugs, the high rise residents got glitter on the tables, glitter on the walls, glitter in the carpet and glitter through the halls…

Merry Sparkles! May your holidays always leave something to remember until next year! (And the year after that, or the year after that, and…)

- Bess Tuggle 

Ellis Millsaps - Son of a Preacher Man - Chapter 8. Rock of Ages: Let Me Hide

- Read previous installments of Son of a Preacher Man -

Son of a Preacher Man

A Rock And Roll Cowboy Grows Up Southern Baptist

Chapter 8 

Rock of Ages: Let me Hide

You might get the impression from the last two chapters that I was well on my way to becoming a juvenile delinquent. No, in elementary school ( didn't have middle school then) it was just smoking in the woods, the hijinks that resulted in school paddling's with a few minor thefts thrown in that were necessary to prevent me from being seen as the goody-goody chickenshit preacher's kid in the neighborhood and at school. In high school I would graduate to minor criminal vandalism that resulted in rewards being offered for the unknown perpetrators, but nothing that endangered anyone was involved.

 My church life remained unaltered. I was sort of like the 50s TV show ”I Led Three Lives” but in my case there were just the two. It's noteworthy and probably fortunate for me that very few kids from my class at school (I recall only two) and very few kids from my immediate neighborhood with whom I associated attended my father's church. i.e. few chances for anybody to rat me out.

 I attended Sunday school every Sunday-- not that I had any choice-- but I didn't mind, rather enjoyed Sunday morning services. They didn't interfere with any TV I wanted to watch. ( All three networks carried televised church services.) I obtained a white, gold and blue medal for one year’s perfect attendance, a gold wreath around it for the second year, and bars which hung down from it for succeeding years. I looked like a small three-star General with this brass hanging from the pocket of my suit or sports coat (everybody dressed for church back then) on Sunday mornings.

 By age nine I could recite the books of the Bible in order and could recite a few Psalms and select New Testament passages. I was the undisputed all-age champion at something called sword drill. 

In one of these sword drills someone, usually an adult, stands before the group and says “Attention!” The kids stand erect with their Bibles at their sides. Next,” Draw swords.” Contestants bring their Bibles to chest level, title cover facing heaven, one hand underneath with the other  on top. The adult then announces a Bible verse, e. g, Job 3:17, then says“Charge!” The first contestant to locate the passage steps forward and and reads it.

 It was as close as I could get to the gunfights of my beloved TV westerns and here, I was the fastest gun in town.

 Summers, if it didn't conflict with My Little League schedule, I attended Baptist summer camps, first Camp Pinnacle, a mountain retreat near Clayton, Georgia, and later Camp Glynn, located in the marshes near Brunswick. I looked forward to camp. Yeah, there were the daily church services, but there was swimming, canoeing and various sporting activities. At Camp Pinnacle there was a contest with an elevated smooth log parallel to mattresses on the ground underneath,  across which two combatants would shimmy to the center and slug it out with pillows until one went down. At Camp Glynn we learned to catch crabs with chicken necks and how to disengage them without getting pinched. ( Although I don't remember eating crab, or for that matter an artichoke or a pizza I didn't make myself from a Chef Boyardee box, until I was in college.) At camp we braided necklaces, from which often hung an also braided cross, from a colorful plastic material called gimp, a name I wasn't to hear again until I saw Pulp Fiction in 1994.

 More about my sister Wylene. When she was an upperclassman in high school and I was around seven years old she supervised various youth groups and activities. I would later caution my children, “Beware of any organization that refers to you as ‘youth’. Hitler Youth, Communist Youth, Baptist Youth, they all have an agenda which doesn't involve thinking for oneself.”

 But we youth loved Wylene’s groups. There would be games like Red Rover on warm summer evenings. I remember she would host “soup parties” where each kid would bring any can of Campbell's Soup and she would dump them together in one pot. Although we always disparaged the kid who brought onion, we thought it was a great adventure eating the soup.

- Ellis Millsaps

 Ellis Millsaps is a recovering Attorney but has worn many hats over the years: father, bus boy, stand-up comedian, novelist, wiffle ball player, rock'n'roll band manager, and at one time wrote a popular and funny column for The Covington News. A Fannin Co. mountain boy originally, Mr. Millsaps now stays at the mill village of Porterdale by way of 20 years in Mansfield. Usually funny and at times irreverent and subversive, he leans left in his political philosophy but can always be counted on for a pretty darn good write-up. The Chronicles are proud to have him involved... 

**Also: be sure to check out the first chapters of Ellis's new novel...

Good Cop, Bad Cop: A Novel by Ellis Millsaps