Showing 120 - 129 of 130 posts found matching: newnan

What, exactly, does the Daily Planet report? How many times can you see the headline "Superman Saves City From Toyman" before you don't really feel the need to spend 50¢ to read it anymore? Would you subscribe to a morning paper to read about how Superman saved the city while you were at work? If crime, accidents, or even major weather events weren't an issue in your town, would you pick up a paper to read a columnist decrying local politicians or the state of your schools? No, I don't think so.

Look at the competitors: the New York Times has made a name for itself in the traditional way with slanted political bias. The Washington Post has picked up a reputation for investigative reporting. The Wall Street Journal thrives by reporting to the niche market with financial information. USA Today gets by with puff pieces and 4-color printing, becoming the "comic book" of the news world. And my small city paper, the Newnan Times-Herald, tries to appeal to the disparate interests of the local community, yesterday selling a schizophrenic edition with two headlines: "County Passes Tighter Obscenity Ordinance" side-by-side with "Micro Wrestlers: 'They're Amazingly Funny, Who Doesn't Like Midgets?'"

Seems to me that if I were Perry White, I'd have to find some new directions for news reporting. It's hard enough for newspapers to survive in the modern television/internet age in a region where there is actually news to report, much less in crime-free Metropolis. Face it, if there's not some major alien invasion or other Justice League emergency ("Brainiac Renovates City Hall - WIth BLOOD!"), the Planet may as well be an Associated Press outpost with a light sprinkling of boring local interest stories ("Super-Ventriloquism and Other Forgotten Powers of Superman") and sports columns ("Metropolis Monarchs Beat Gotham Knights in World's Finest Series"). I suspect that the solution is tabloid journalism: report on the sex life of politicians and other powerful figures in town. ("Lex Luthor Loves the Ladies; Metropolis Madam Speaks Out!") Or make outrageous claims about the foibles of of celebrities. ("Bruce Wayne in Rehab for Addiction to Domestic Violence?"). That always seems to sell well.

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A friend of mine opened a new toy store in "Historic Downtown" Newnan, GA. Of course, I was asked to design the logo for the Full Circle storefront.

Full Circle, 17 Jefferson Street,

I'm rather pleased with the way it turned out. Even if it wasn't my first choice for the design, it fit his needs and looks plenty dapper enough, if I do say so myself. (What's that you say about the London Underground roundel? You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you.)

And while the name "Full Circle" isn't quite as... um, powerful as the name used by a certain frame shop in nearby "Historic Downtown" Carrollton, GA, at least Full Circle doesn't have to put out any redundant banners to supplement it's signage. And no, I don't know why all the nearby downtown areas -- including Griffin, LaGrange, and Warm Springs -- are all "historic," it's just something I've learned to live with.

In brightest day, in blackest night, I will buy my picture frames by Green Lantern's light!

"Picture Framing" at a "frame shop"? I'm glad that they explained that, otherwise I might have embarrassed myself trying to purchase a false accusation. Will those silly Oans never learn?

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The American economy is in shambles, banks are closing, the housing market has crashed, gasoline shortages have strangled travel, and none of the Presidential candidates or their seconds appear appropriately qualified for the job. Making matters worse, actors are on the verge of the second crippling strike on entertainment in as many years, potentially destroying the one industry that traditionally performs well during economic recessions.

The good news? Newnan, Georgia is in the headlines: "Rough Economy Felt at Redneck Gourmet," reports CNN. When a place named Redneck Gourmet is suffering, you know times are tough.

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Believe it or not, I almost forgot to post a blog entry today. I know that would have made some of you very happy, and for that I apologize.

It can be hard to think up new and exciting things to post here in my blog that no one ever reads. Last week, I was thinking of quitting posting altogether. But then I read an article in my local newspaper comprised of a series of bad puns about Jimmy Carter's complaints of hemorrhoids to Walter Cronkite and Barbara Walters in 1978. I decided then and there that if "professional" columnists can run columns comprising a series of Presidential ass jokes from 1978 in a "real" newspaper that no one ever reads, I can keep posting my inconsequential blog entries. Again, my apologies.

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For the past several days, the air has been full of the sickly-sweet, headache-inducing smell of plant sex. The masthead of the local paper went from a pollen count -- representing the number of pollen particles in a cubic foot of air -- of 17 (which qualified as "Low," the bottom of the indicator scale) to 214 (nearly 100 points over the "Extremely High" mark at the top end of the scale). In fact, the pollen count indicator is a scale from 0 to 120. To indicate just how inadequate that is, today's pollen count was 1,089, nine times greater than the cut-off for the top of the pollen count scale!

Now, I ask you, what's the point of an indicator scale that can be rendered useless overnight? Why cap a scale if levels of "Extreme" exist above the scale? If the scale for hurricanes was capped at 75mph, then 2005's New Orleans-destroying Hurricane Katrina would measure the same as 1979's New Orleans-dampening Hurricane Bob which is remembered more for being the first "male" hurricane than for the destruction it's gusty drizzles didn't do.

Personally, I prefer my scales to have a little more bite. For example, the Richter Scale for earthquakes scales by a power of ten for each increase in level, allowing the highest level to represent total destruction. DEFCON 1 represents a Failsafe, On the Beach, or Red Dawn scenario. And "Two Thumbs Up" means I really ought to see the movie.

What does an "Extremely High" pollen count indicate? That I might have a headache. That kind of indicator I don't need; the headache itself will work just fine, thanks.

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I've just returned from the Newnan High School homecoming football game against Lithonia High School. We left at halftime, as the NHS Cougars were beating the LHS Bulldogs 35-0 and I simply didn't care to see any more, especially if I was going to have to sit through the halftime Homecoming Court presentation. (I'd've stayed if the LHS band was going to take the field. Their drum corps was much, much better than their football team.)

As we left the stadium, I realized that I did not have my wallet on me, and I was convinced that it had fallen out of my pocket in the stadium. My brother patiently explained that my wallet must still be on my bed. Since my slightly-paranoid neurotic nature would have alerted me to the wallet's absence during the game if it had been present and then disappeared, he explained, my realizing it only after my departure was because enough time (and football) had passed for me to forget that I hadn't brought it in the first place. Therefore, I was fretting only because I had forgotten that I had not brought it to the game.

He was, it turns out, quite right. My wallet was right where I had left it, on my bed. I dropped it there before we left the game because I was excited upon putting on a pair of pants and finding $6 in the pocket. (Yes, I am so broke that $6 is a huge find.)

So now I'm the worst of both worlds: a paranoid with a memory short enough to be suspicious of my own behavior and motivations. And finding $6 is enough to get me too excited to pay attention to anything for about an hour. Great. What's that they say that's the first thing to go, again? Cause I'm sure that's already gone.

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I live in a town that has a penchant for combining business models for maximum marketability. There is a graphic design sign shop/Taekwondo dojo, a dry cleaners/baptist church, a hot dogs and oysters restaurant, and (my personal favorite) a toy store/lawnmower repair shop. I figure it's only a matter of time before I hear someone ask "you want fries to go with that car title pawn?"

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As I mentioned, I've been relocating to new digs over the past week. What stands out about the misadventure is that less than 2 hours after being laughed at over how diligently I was tying down the tarp on the trailer hauling my furniture, the darn tarp ripped in half on the highway. (As seen below. My brother took the opportunity to chuckle at my expense.) Fortunately for me, the weather waited until after the tarp ripped to begin producing rain. Mother Nature is a woman with a sadistic sense of humor.

Thank you, Trey.

At least the move is complete and my computer is now (mostly) installed and running in its new location. After over 7 years, I am physically no longer living in Athens, GA. I don't know what I'll do, living in a town with less than 1 bar/liquor store per citizen.

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For the past few weeks, I've been working off-and-on (more "off" than "on," really) on some minor repairs to my mother's house. The goal was to complete some painting & cleaning before winter set in. Note below the new casing around her front door that I built and painted. On the surrounding brick, you can still see the paint outline of the old, rotten door casing that I removed. (Lest you think I'm a one-trick pony, I also repaired and painted the door and polished the brass door fixtures. Oh, yeah.)

Door and Casing by Walter

So you see, I'm like a super-hero: by day, I'm an average handy-man and carpenter. By night, I'm a computer web designer and artist. Of course, I generally try to keep my dual identity a secret to protect my friends and loved-ones, but try as I might, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep my two roles separate. Don't tell anyone, but I'm slightly concerned that I'm becoming Schneider from One Day At A Time.

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The bathroom is done. Whew! >Wipes brow.< Take a look.

As I was finally walking out the door with the paint drying behind me, my mother says, "What color should I change these countertops to?" I'm afraid that I left some skid marks in her driveway.

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To be continued...

 

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