Email Questions, Skunk Sophia, BobbyRay & The Gospel, Potty Mouth Email, Nashville In The Sunshine, Chattanooga & Road Sings, Moon Pies of Chattanooga

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Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

One of the fun things I get to do from time to time is respond to the email that comes my way, but more importantly, the email that comes to the Damn Republican Cat. Sophia, bless her little heart, has gotten more email than me for years now. I’ve finally resolved to be second fiddle to a Calico Cat. Oh well, at least Sophia’s not a skunk.

Now there are some who feel compelled to email the EastWing on a regular basis that do, in fact, consider Sophia worse than a skunk. When I told Sophia that some consider her worse than a skunk, she just gave me that “Sophia Smile”, that melt you heart kinda smile and said, “Yeah, and look who they voted for in the White House. “ “Hey Bentley, the President said Pit Bulls are delicious!.” Bentley ran and hid, as Sophia laughed. Damn Republican Cat.

With an ever increasing number of people who visit the EastWing, I get repetitive questions from new friends to the EastWing that I feel compelled to answer. Things like Why do you say the She? Now the She is my beautiful wife Regina. We’ve been married since the days of black & white TV and loved every minute of it, me and the She. At least I’ve loved every minute, maybe the She just puts up with me. But the She does smile, when I kiss an angel good morning.

Is the EastWing real or madeup? It’s a real place. The farthest most east room in my house. The EastWing, a glass room to be enjoyed like no other. A playground for BobbyRay.

Do you really have all the dogs and cats that you talk about? Yes and Yes. The Gray Lady James, Mustina James, nicknamed the Pup Baby, Bentley James, the three dogs of the EastWing. Spike the Man Cat is the largest cat at the EastWing. Then there’s Sophia the Calico Conservative Republican Cat, the glue that holds the EastWing in place. Without Sophia, we’re just another pretty house with a sun room, with Sophia, we’re the EastWing. Damn Republican Cat.

You sound like a kid. How old are you? During the time the Military had forces in the sands of Iraq I wrote a weekly story and send to a group of soldiers in Iraq. Now that story goes into Afghanistan. Over the course of time, that number that visited the EastWing on Wednesday Evening grew to several hundred. And much the same as the Sunday Evening visits to the EastWing, these soldiers would, from time to time, send me emails from the desert.

One such email said “BobbyRay, the other day we’re talking about you and the EastWing and nobody knows how old you are. Are you about our age?

The question came from a kid 22 years old, a young man willing to die to protect my freedom to be in my world and tell stories. His question brought tears to the EastWing. But my answer brought a smile. I simply said “about.” How old am I now? “about the same”. I’m about old enough. I firmly believe one is only as old as ya wanta be. I think 20 years old is kinda cool. I think 67 is kinda cool too.

Are you a Christian? You don’t sound like you believe in God. Shewwww. I don’t know how that idea came into play, but I’ll address it never the less. Am I a Christian? Yes. Do I believe in God? Ya can’t be a Christian without believing in God. DUH !! Now here ya gotta keep in mind that I come from a long line of Baptist Preachers. My father came from a family of 7 sons, all Baptist Preachers. My Grand Father came from a family of 7 sons, all Baptist Preachers.

Am I a Christian? Yes, I’ve got the background, I’ve got the faith, I’ve got the heritage. I got the genes, I could preach if I wanted to. I choose not to, ‘cause God didn’t call. But if he does, you bet, I’ll preach the gospel, but for now I’ll just preach the gospel according to BobbyRay. And that gospel according to BobbyRay, it’s a Golden Rule kinda thing. It’ll work for both me and you unless God wants me to preach something different. That being the case, then you’ll hear the message. Am I Christian? Are ‘you kidding me?

WOW ! Did I ever get a response in the email by bringing up the LBJ story about the sheep. Some said I just made it up because I’m a closet republican and want to destroy President Obama by saying bad things like the president said “Pit Bulls are delicious”.

It’s a fact that President Obama did say that Pit Bulls are delicious. Whether he spoke that as an attempt at humor. or spoke that as a statement of fact, is much the same as the old saying “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”. For friends it was humor, for foes, fact. Sounded to me like the President had just had Pit Bull for breakfast. Pit Bull and scrambled eggs. Shewwww.

Had several hundred people agree with me about the dirty words in rap music that we talked about a few weeks ago. Had one email start out as “HAY YOU M*@^#$ Ff&^%*#” I’m not sure if that was Snoop Dogg himself or not, ‘cause when ya start emails with those kinda words, well they just don’t get read here at the EastWing.

Potty Mouth Emails should stay at home. It truly amazes me that some people cannot speak without using such foul words. And to think some people accuse me of writing down from by level of education. Shewwww. I guess some folks can, and some folks can’t, and some folks wish they could. But there is never a place in society for potty mouth language, for ugly words. If ya can’t say it without talking dirty, shame on you. You, you, you, potty mouth you.

Last Wednesday, late afternoon, me and Johnny and Jaimie hit the road for Georgia to visit my sister, Barbara. I drove 350 miles before we slept Wednesday night in Bowling Green KY. Johnny drove all day Thursday as we meandered our way toward Roswell GA. Got lost in Nashville, just for the fun of being lost in Nashville. Got off the interstate, went downtown, gawked a while, then back south bound and down.

About a 100 miles later and after reading two dozen very large billboard signs praising the virtues of “SUGAR’S RIBS BBQ” in downtown Chattanooga TN we decided that’s where we’ll stop and allow me to attend by phone a meeting of the finance committee of the HealthLinc Org. At the appointed time, I connected to HealthLinc, had the finance meeting, and off we went to SUGAR’S RIBS.

Sugar’s Ribs BBQ was / is, hands down, the single worst BBQ I’ve ever encountered in my whole life, It just was. Now before ya jump to the conclusion I’m just bad mouthing the competition, keep in mind we operate a BBQ in Demotte IN, not Chattanooga TN, so we’re not talking competition here. In fact I wish Sugar’s Ribs was located in Demotte IN. That way we’d get even more business, ‘cause Sugar’s Ribs BBQ once tried, then folks would run to Bub’s BBQ.

I’m not gona go into detail on the lack of quality at SUGAR’S RIBS BBQ, but I’ll just share this event I saw play out before my very eyes. Much of the order brought to our table, we did not eat. Why, I don’t know but Johnny asked for and received a “carry out container” and put the pitiful excuse for BBQ in the white Styrofoam, paid ‘em $60 bucks and left the joint.

On the street, in front of the building housing SUGAR’S RIB BBQ , leaned up against the building, sat a feller who appeared the live on the streets of Chattanooga. It looked as if he had all his worldly possessions within arm’s reach. Johnny offered this man the carry out box. He asked where it came from, Johnny told him Sugar’s Ribs. The street person turned Johnny down, said he’d pass. But he tanked Johnny for the offer. In defense of Sugar’s Ribs BBQ, if you happened to be one of those people who likes your BBQ Meat to be about 95% carbon, you’ll like SUGAR’S RIBS BBQ in downtown Chattanooga TN. But it was not a total wipeout, there in Chattanooga ‘cause after all Chattanooga is the home of the original MOON PIE, and yap, we had Moon Pies, fresh ones, right out of the oven. Good stuff, those MOON PIES.

Stay Safe in Afghanistan

From the EastWing, Email Questions, Skunk Sophia, BobbyRay & The Gospel, Potty Mouth Email, Nashville In The Sunshine, Chattanooga & Road Sings, Moon Pies of Chattanooga

I wish you well,