This must be the place: Ode to the Futurebirds, ode to the ‘Heavy Weights’ of life
Last Thursday evening was a pure and present justification of why music (especially when performed live) has such an extremely deep and intricately intrinsic (and lifelong) hold on my heart and soul.
This must be the place: ‘Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious’
Sunday. Late morning. I’m awakened by the sounds of a curious dog in my upstairs neighbor’s apartment. He’s a sweet pitbull mix. Always running around the yard, happily barking at the knowns and unknowns of this big ol’ world outside of his second story window.
This must be the place: 'And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day'
Thanksgiving morning. The streets of downtown Waynesville are quiet save for a slight, crisp breeze whirling through from the mountain ridges cradling the community. Emerge from bed and peer out the window blinds onto the cloudy sky holiday unfolding in real time.
This must be the place: ‘Bourbon laughter, ghosts, history falls,to park ing lots and shopping malls’
Thursday morning. Although the sunshine and blue skies over Western North Carolina seemed rather inviting, it was false pretense as I stepped out onto the front porch and realized that flip-flops were not the ideal choice to battle a cold mid-fall breeze across naked toes.
This must be the place: ‘Light a fire, fight a liar, what’s the difference, in existence?’
It’s not much after 9:30 on Sunday morning. I awoke in bed just as my girlfriend, Sarah, was heading out the door to have coffee and eggs with one of her good friends. Living in downtown Waynesville, she’d have to make her way quickly to Sunny Point Café in West Asheville before the usual Sunday rush of brunch folks and out-of-towners.
This must be the place: ‘Armed with will and determination, and grace, too’
In the midst of the most important and crucial presidential election in my 39 years of existence in this country and, perhaps, also that of my now elderly parents and long-gone grandparents, I decided to order a New York Strip Steak, medium with sautéed onions.
This must be the place: ‘You can capture every instant, live your life like it’s a stage’
It was nearing midnight last Saturday when I found myself in a circle of friends in the small, cozy sitting nook between the front door and the bar counter of The Scotsman in Waynesville.
This must be the place: 'Such a long time to be gone and short time to be there'
Hello from Section 117 at the Bank of America Stadium in Charlotte. I’m here on assignment covering the “Concert for Carolina,” a flood relief fundraiser put together by country megastars and Western North Carolina natives Eric Church and Luke Combs. Some 82,000 folks filled the outdoor venue, while around $25 million was garnered during the performance.
This must be the place: 'Don't it make you feel bad, when you're tryin' to find your way home'
(Editor’s Note: Amid the chaos of the recent floods from Hurricane Helene, this column wasn’t able to run in the Oct. 2 issue of The Smoky Mountain News due to space issues in the midst of crisis.)
Hello from Room 13 at the Seabirds Motel in Kure Beach, North Carolina. Saturday morning.
This must be the place: ‘And faintly bouncing ‘round the room, the echo of whomever spoke’
The power of water. Today was a rough one.
To preface, I’ve been entirely caught up in the chaotic whirlwind in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, whether it be with my journalist hat on interviewing flood victims or simply being a distraught resident of Western North Carolina.
