Jul 272009

I thought about not reviewing My First Mister.  I think I was a little embarrassed about liking it.  The absolute worst thing I can say about a movie is that it’s “about as good as a soap opera.”  Indeed, this film is a little soap operaish–just a little.  It is indeed a “tear jerker”–to get that out as well.  Now that I have disclaimed myself, let me tell you why I found it a worthwhile and thoughtful tale.
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Jul 262009

The North Chickamauga Creek Gorge, located 15 miles from downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee, is a beautiful deep central gorge cut into the sandstone plateau of Walden’s Ridge. It is approximately 10 miles long–steep, and rugged with forested slopes and very limited access. This gorge is the upper portion of the 32-mile North Chickamauga Creek, one of the main tributaries of the Tennessee River in Chattanooga. Continue reading »

Jul 252009

There is a man on my commute who walks the median of a busy intersection, holding out a paper bucket for contributions.  His need is pretty obvious.  He limps horribly because one of his feet points behind him.  His lower leg is twisted around and it hurts to watch him walk.  At least it hurts me.  On the other hand, I have rarely given him money.  But I have often wondered about the thoughts of my fellow commuters.  Do others feel this pain?
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Jul 242009

One of my first puzzles on beginning Seducing Dr. Lewis was its location. Set in a small coastal fishing village, the place looked much like Battle Harbour, Labrador, where I have stayed and roamed with my cameras.  The treeless tundra-like terrain and starkness of the tiny surrounding islands was remarkably similar.  When the film was over, I searched the credits eagerly for the location.  Harrington Harbour, Quebec.  Close!  Harrington Harbour is just below the Quebec/Labrador border and therefore down the coast from Battle Harbour.  Now, of course, I want to visit Harrington Harbour.  I’m reading up on in already.  But I’ve digressed before even getting started.
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Jul 202009

I learned most of what I know about trout fishing on an overnight trip in the Tellico Wildlife Management Area in East Tennessee.  My buddy lived nearby and loved to follow the trout streams high up to their source.  We caught them by day and cooked and ate them by the evening campfires.  As you will see, the following poem both is and isn’t about trout fishing. Continue reading »