Ad Hudler's Blog, page 3

Hoarding for the Incandescent Apocalypse

First, they phase out the 75-watt.
Now, they're phasing out the 65- and 40-watt.
I refuse to give up the warm, irreplaceable glow of incandescent.
With respect to Charleston Heston: "I'll give you my incandescents when you pry them from my cold, dead hands."

Monkey Business

....that's the name I've given my bathroom. I got to choose my own wallpaper.

It's become obvious over the past few years that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for it.

At any rate, I need to install a new shower valve, which means someone must cut a hole in the wall, which makes me very sad. I can't replace the wallpaper. It was on clearance. Discontinued. Imagine that.

So, a hole must be made. I'm hoping for a teeny tiny hole, please.

Dear Craigslist: Looking for someone who specializes in arthroscopic plumbing.

How to tell when you have a drinking problem ...

Working as concierge in a huge hotel in a bustling entertainment district, I've learned something wonderful about myself, something that makes me sigh with relief ... and please take note, dear wife: Evidently, I don't have a drinking problem after all!

The proof:
I do not vomit on lobby floors.
I do not try to kiss strangers in elevators.
I do not run around hotel hallways in my underwear until I pass out.
I do not lose my telephone while trawling the bars of lower Broadway.

Yes, bartender, thank you -- I will have another.

Sexy New Word

Reading Tom Wolfe's "Back to Blood" right now and came across a word I've never seen: lubricious. Say it out loud -- it even sounds sexy.

And sexy it is: Lubricious: Offensively displaying or intended to arouse sexual desire. Smooth and slippery with oil or a similar substance.

BTW:  My favorite feature of a Kindle is how you can set the cursor on a word, and a New Oxford American Dictionary definition pops up. So easy. So enlightening. So exciting.

Almost, downright ... lubricious.

Googling the Concierge

Three or four times a week a guest will come up to me and say, "You didn't tell me you were an author!"

Sometimes, they go right upstairs to their room, download an Ad Hudler book onto their Kindle, and start reading.

One phone call, late one night while I was working the desk: "Ad... this is Mrs. BLANK ... Why did you kill Ellis? He was so sweet! Why did he have to die?"

Another woman came up to me one day and asked me to compare two restaurants. I gave her the pros and cons of each one, and then she asked, "But which one would Donna pick?"

"Donna?" I asked.

"Donna Kabel. The Kroger produce girl in your book. Which restaurant do you think she'd like?"

What I found in the attic ...

We writers scribble everywhere ... fearing that the thought that has bubbled up into our conscious mind will soon be forgotten and lost forever.

Hence: Pencil and pad in the truck. On the bathroom counter. In the junk drawer of the kitchen. And on and on and on ...

I recently went up to the attic to retrieve a cocktail table for a fundraiser we were hosting for a Nashville judge...and I found stuck to the base a post-it note that said:

magnolia thunderpussy shirt ... pleather leggings ... plastic feet bud of accessories....

Yep. Your guess is as good as mine.


 

In search of ... The Biggest Waterfall

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> <br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Hey, y'all.....here's my recent AdVentures column from Nashville Lifestyles magazine:</i></span></div><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've always been drawn to those things that claim superiority: Biggest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>Fastest. Longest. Fattest.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After hearing/reading for the third time that Tennessee boasts the Highest Waterfall East of the Rockies, I felt compelled to investigate.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know what you're thinking. I thought it, too: Niagara Falls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>If Tennessee did indeed have a waterfall bigger than Niagara then we surely would know about it – right? There would be postcards. And legends. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fall Creek Falls, about two hours east of Nashville, sits atop the Cumberland Plateau, in Tennessee's largest state park. My hike began with what could be described as either …</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A: Awesome</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">B: Horrifying.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">… all depending on how comfortable you are when defying gravity. A long, homemade suspension pedestrian-bridge spans the river. It looks like it was made by a road crew in rural Latin America, cleverly constructed of rope and two-by-fours and rusty, wire, barnyard fencing. Let's just say that crossing it is a lesson in blind faith. The bridge moves more than you want it to, especially as you near the end and another person steps onto the opposite side, creating an effect not <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>unlike an undulating rug as it's being shaken on cleaning day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The trail is steep at times, and rocky, and downright ugly – worn, dusty paths strewn with litter and graffiti on the trail-guide signs, more post-hurricane Nicaragua than Tennessee. The flora is sparse and beaten up, as if a tornado or flood had swept through. Critters, both furry and feathered, seemed to have moved on to greener locales. If The Highest Waterfall East of the Rockies were not waiting at the summit I probably would have turned back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As I neared the falls I kept stopping to see if I could hear them – but I could not. I was perplexed: How could The Highest Waterfall East of the Rockies not be heard from a mere quarter-mile away?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eighty feet away. Still no roar of water. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Ahhhhhhh, mystery solved," I said when I finally saw the falls. Indeed, at 256 feet it is the Highest Waterfall East of the Rockies (Niagara Falls is 176 feet), but it certainly isn't the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">largest.</i> Niagara marks the spot where one of the world's largest inland lakes pours into another of the world's largest inland lakes. Hence, the roar.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fall Creek Falls, however, is made from one little river, almost a creek, which means the volume of water is so small that the falls is not a wall of water at all but rather a tentative-looking, misty column that resembles a long bridal veil. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Cumberland Falls is bigger that that," said one unimpressed man standing near me. "Burgess Falls, too."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Group by group, people approached the promontory, looked at the falls and uttered a flat "huh." One woman surveyed the scene for a few seconds then turned to her companion and said, "Did y'all know that Connie Marie's havin' a baby?"</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Having succumbed to gravity, an obese bulldog<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>(The World's Fattest Bulldog, perhaps?) was lying at her feet.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"How on earth did that dog make it up that steep hike?" I ask.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Oh, We drove up," she answered, motioning to the parking lot beyond the trees.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, if you do venture this way to see The Highest Waterfall East of the Rockies, I suggest you drive instead of hike. Unless you want to collect some empty aluminum cans for extra cash.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="feedflare">
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If you drink beer and no one sees you ... are you truly drunk?

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style>  <br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Here's my recent AdVentures column for Nashville Lifestyles magazine: Canoeing on the Harpeth River:</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i> </i>The sign behind the counter at Tip-A-Canoe confuses us. It says something like, <i>$187.50 alcohol penalty.</i> We assume it's a joke, like the T-shirt message on the guy standing next to me: <i>Paddle Faster! I hear banjos!</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I look at my companion, confused. "No beer on a canoe ride?" I ask. "Surely they're not serious. … $187.50? What's that about?<i>"</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I'd canoed and kayaked in Minnesota, Belize, California, Amsterdam, Colorado, Florida – most of the time with a small cooler of beer in hand. A canoe ride without beer makes no sense. It is an incomplete equation. A canoe ride without beer is like a canoe ride without water or paddles.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Still, I'm a consummate rule-follower, and I fight the urge to return my cooler to the truck.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">"No one's gonna say anything," my friend assures me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">"Like don't-ask-don't-tell in the military, right?"</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">We board the van that transports all the canoes and people to their drop-off spot. With us is a group of giggling-girl teenage missionaries and their adult female leader who have traveled from Memphis for the day. The leader eyes my cooler (hungrily?). <i>Does she know? </i>I wonder, nervously.<i> Will she tell on me? </i>As I mentally prepare to break a rule or law, I remind myself that even Jesus drank wine. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Most of the area's canoe-rental companies, located just minutes west of Nashville, are clustered on a bend in the Harpeth River. At Tip-A-Canoe, you can choose from a variety of rides, ranging from one hour to eight hours, which includes an overnight rustic camping trip. We've chosen the 2-hour, 7-mile trip, which will take us from the Kingston Springs ballpark, back to the Tip-A-Canoe headquarters where we parked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Harpeth is a Class-1 river, the lowest ranking on the scare-scale. The smooth current and occasional, minimal rapids are reminiscent of a lazy-river ride in an amusement park. Occasionally, we must steer. At times we scrape bottom and must scoot forward to dislodge the craft from the gravel. Our mandatory life preservers seem to be overkill.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The spectacular views from the water, including plant-adorned cliffs that reach upward for nearly 100 feet, almost make me forget about the contents of our cooler. Almost. I am thirsty.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">We paddle up to a sandbar and pull the canoe ashore. I'm nervous, still unsure. Is the quirky $187.50 penalty actual state law or the whim of some pious manager?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I soon realize we have no cups, so we cloak our beers in bandanas and look left, look right, and hope for the best.</span></div><div class="feedflare">
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The scary things I find ...

Seen on a visit to my favorite Nashville antique mart:



Rubber hand puppets of .... hmmm. Is that Desmond Tutu on the right? And I think that might be my high-school history teacher on the left.

Their hands are out, as if .... hmmmm....are they ready to fight? Are they describing the size of the fish they caught in Old Hickory Lake? Or have they just exclaimed, "Oh, my GOD! You did NOT just say that?"...and they throw their hands in the air.

I challenge someone to name the puppet show these two would star in. Winner gets two free Ad Hudler novels of her/his choice, signed and sent to a friend.

Gratuitous hash tags/phrases to boost website traffic:
Free books
Racial relations
Men who act like sissies
Does this gray suit make me look fat?
What color of tie should I wear to an interview?

Schizophrenic Nashville

As a novelist I'm always trying to figure out the blueprint of someone's personality, always trying to figure out what makes a particular person tick. I do the same with places, as y'all saw in my novel Southern Living, where the town of Selby became a character in its own right.

Nashville, however, is hard to pin down. Consider:

Two blocks from the national headquarters of the Southern Baptist Convention is Hustler Hollywood, a high-end, grocery-store-size emporium with trained "sexologists" who can answer just about any question you have about male or female reproductive anatomy. (I know; I've learned a few very important things from them.)

We are home to Al Jazeera's news bureau for the Southern U.S. ... yet we've got plenty of xenophobic rednecks spitting tobacco juice out the windows of their trucks.

We are home to Taylor Swift ... and Jack White.

Our airport has signs written in both English and Japanese -- and we've got a Japanese consulate here.

See what I mean?