Attack of the 100-foot Baby

This started as a pencil drawing that I worked on during the retirement reception of the university provost. In fact, when I scanned the sketch you could see most of the reverse side that bled through the cheap paper the program was written on. For those of you with photoshop abilities, you can find the horrible, horrible words to a song that we sang. I was once asked to help write that song, maybe I should have pitched in.

Today we walked to the A&G restaurant for lunch. The kids will be out of school mid-day tomorrow, so it was one of the only times we could do something like that. After lunch, I asked Amy if we could walk around the courthouse square to listen to the Christmas music blarin' out of the court house loudspeakers. On the way back home, we ended up walking by the funeral home where Bobby Jo Stinnet's service was being held. I hadn't realize that the funeral was in Maryville. There were reporters, cameras, six huge media trucks and satellite dishes all over Market street. Walking around all of this equipment wasn't easy, they were everywhere. A real media circus, the whole world is watching footage 6 blocks from my home. Terrible, terrible story.

Since I was walking down a street, by my church, and in my town, I found it pretty easy to just walk behind the equipment and ignore the whole scene. I did feel more like a jerk for driving 5-6 miles out of my way the previous week, though. Still not quite sure why I did that. I guess I am writing that here to keep me honest.

--gh